The Vacant Chair: 2016-09-11

That Once Occupied Space

The vacant chair at the table is not empty, nor is the vacant space around the Christmas Tree, the omission in family pictures, the date on the calendar that was always marked as a birthday. Those spaces are filled with memories, longing, and perhaps even regret. Most of all, however, they are filled with love. There is comfort because the space will always be there, with love, delightful memories, and great appreciation for the short life that was once in those spaces.

The title of this blog is the name of an old song that was written at the beginning of the Civil War. The Vacant Chair, written by George F. Root in 1861 can be found on the website "Civil War Talk."

We shall meet but we shall miss him. — There will be one vacant chair. — We shall linger to caress him —While we breathe our ev'ning prayer.

When one year ago we gathered, — Joy was in his mild blue eye. — Now the golden cord is severed, — And our hopes in ruin lie.

CHORUS:

We shall meet, but we shall miss him. — There will be one vacant chair. — We shall linger to caress him — While we breathe our ev'ning prayer.

Verses two and three are also included on the site listed above, and they refer to the death of a young man on the battle field. You can search YouTube to find recordings of the song with its common melody. The most clearly and beautifully simple version is this Tennessee Ernie Ford rendition.

Tuesday, September 13, 2016

Dreaming

I awoke this morning after having vivid Jed dream. Today is exactly 18 months since he died. It seems like no time at all and it seems like an eternity. Perhaps that is what eternity is - a total mixup of how we measure time on earth and time during our lives.
I am aware of dreams with Jed in them almost every night. Information about dreams indicates that I probably have dreams with him in them several times a night. Usually he is dressed in a white t-shirt, which is odd because I do not remember him wearing white t-shirts during his adult years. In the dreams, he is watching me and the things involving me until he eventually comes forward and gives his own accurate recommendations and advice.
As usual, I don't remember what I was doing in the dream, nor any other details. I only remember Jed in the background, and then his coming forward to talk to me (or maybe to us). I love the dreams. I love the fact that he is alive to me again, even though it is virtual.
I don't remember when the dreams with Jay D active in them ended. Of course it has been 23, 11 months, and 14 days since he died. It also seems like no time at all and it seems like an eternity. I simply cannot imagine him as older than 17, and yet, both my husband and I have talked about how we were always unable to envision his future when he was living.
Jay D is often in my dreams, but only as a child in the background that never comes forward and that doesn't interact, except on very rare occasions. In my dreams, he is always wearing a camouflage print. I would love to have dreams in which Jay D is alive to me again. I did have them for a long time, and I regret not realizing they had stopped.
Dreams are merely representations of reality. Dreams are virtual. Memories are real, except that the time frame is virtual. I would rather have the memories than the dreams.
I remember Jay D always being able to reduce feelings and experiences into one wise and simple observation, and I think he was truly gifted in those kinds of perceptions. I remember his dry humor and his moments of enjoyment. He was truly creative. Jed was also very creative but was also a person who strove to learn as many things as he could. His comments and advice was usually right on the mark of being helpful.
I remember Jay D. as clearly as I remember Jed. I remember the feelings they each evoked and still do. I am so grateful that I am aware of each of them every day.

Our Story

One Tuesday morning as our middle child, a senior in high school, was leaving for school, he asked me if I would “please” iron his shirts. I agreed, and he started teasing me that I would "forget all about him, the 'middle kid'. I signed a pass for him to leave school early for his pictures, and agreed to request an hour earlier for the time so he could get some props for the picture from his friend’s house in the country.
He gave me his goofy smile, and said, "Bye, Mom."

I worked across the street from the photography studio, but had gone home at noon to iron his shirts. When 3:00 came and he wasn’t across the street, I drove home to see if he had retrieved his clothes – he had not.

At about 3:30 my husband, the sheriff, and a nurse came into the store and told me our son had been on his way to a friend’s house and his car and a truck collided on a blind intersection. He was killed instantly.That day changed our lives, and each of us in the family will remember it always.

One Tuesday afternoon years later, our daughter called us to tell us her brother (our oldest) had been in an accident. A man had suffered a catastrophic medical problem on a high-traffic highway, crossed a wide grassy median, and hit our son's car head-on. Our son was 43 yrs. old, married with two little boys. He was life-flighted to a trauma center where he and the medical team fought for his life, but he died after 3 days.

Our son had been planning for his future and eventual retirement. He was loved by his students, his friends, and most of all by his family and sons.

I cannot comprehend how I deserved these two wonderful lives in mine. They will be with me forever.