That Extra Chair at the Christmas Dinner Table

It is so hard to lose a child, and a lot of parents, are going through that right now. Losing a child happens to all people, regardless of who they are, what religion they are, or what condition their precious girl or boy had. Yes, it is 2011 and we are blessed to have modern medicine, and devices that do help prevent such a tragedy, but much like the sun rises in the east, and sets in the west, a child is going to die everyday. Make that many, and to those whom have recently gone through such profound sadness, my heart goes out to you. As the father of a child lost, I know that we handle our grief in different ways, but the result is the same. There's something missing, and no matter what, none of us will ever get over the loss of our children. Yet we shall get through it, and this time of year is particularly difficult.

That Christmas Tree is missing the presents of your little one. There is an empty chair at the table, where you used to watch the eyes, light up when you brought out that Ham or Turkey, or perhaps mashed potatoes or squash. It can be a crushing feeling, yet when you look at that empty chair, think of all of the empty chairs that are out there with you. True, you might not be able to see them, but they are there. If you could have wings or x-ray vision, you would see this is very much the case. It is my sincerest belief that all children go to Heaven immediately, that there is no waiting period, unlike the rest of us that might have an encylopedia set thrown at us. They are no longer suffering, it is us, and as parents that is our solemn responsibility. It goes against the grain for a child to die before a parent, that adage is so true. Yet, at the same time, our children are not in pain, not weeping, not going through the motions of "what if," and "why didn't I?" And that is alright, when you think about it. I am comfortable that my son is not the one in pain. Do I suffer every moment of every single day? Nope. There are tears, that cannot be denied. Yet there are also smiles.

The first Christmas was very difficult without Tommy. I do not know what this one will be like. There will be some tears, there have already been, but there will also be smiles. That empty chair will be there. Yet look at it, and think about your little girl or boy, and the happy memories that accompany the holidays. Be grateful for those moments of bliss, and while it is necessary as part of the grieving process to cry as necessary, also be thankful at the same time. To those who have recently lost a child, this is going to sound ridiculous. In fact, it might make you a bit mad, sad, a whole combination of emotions, but those who have been down this path for awhile, understand these concepts very much so. It takes time, each day does get better, and while there are setbacks and upward trajectories, the main thing is to hold the love of your child, and not turn it into defeat. Instead, carry your life with the painful lessons that you have learned, and turn them into acts of kindness to others that are going through hard times. You might be surprised, because while the pain never totally goes away, these acts help you and your human spirit carry on, until that day when called home.