It has been a while since I have written to my friends. We have had a lot going on in our family for the past several months. As enjoyable and fulfilling as it is to write to my friends, something had to come off my plate. My weekly commentary was one of those things.

With the ebb and flow of life events, Thanksgiving brings a renewed energy and, with a little rearranging, I made room on my plate for my annual message on the empty chair.

This year, the empty chair is more real to me than it has been in the past. This year, I experience the empty chair directly and not merely through empathy.

Fewer than 48 hours before he would celebrate his 97th birthday, my father, Robert Cole, stepped into eternity. Until the last few weeks of his life, he was active with a sharp mind.

This photo is one of him sitting in his chair holding one of his Model T toys that he built from scratch. It is not a model out of a box.

He saw a picture and sketched out the dimensions on paper, went to his band saw with a block of wood, and cut out the body of the car. Then, using toothpicks for spokes, a piece of pvc pipe for the wheels and dowell for the axle, he brought a picture in a magazine to a toy you could hold in your hand.

We knew that he would not live forever, in his current physical body. None of us will. As much as we knew it would eventually come to a close in this lifetime, we still expected to see him sitting in that chair sketching out something else to build, reading a book, or talking back to the tv when Fox news was on.

Thanksgiving traditionally begins the Christmas season. Each year I share this article because I know that even those who have read it before may see it in a new light this year.

You may discover that this year, the message is more real than ever because for the first time, you experience that empty chair. 

Christmas is supposed to be a time of great joy and happiness. This year is different for many.  You probably know some for whom it is different. You may not realize it, or maybe it just slips past you in all the hustle and bustle of the year. It is quite possible that you are one of those for whom Christmas is different. 

There is a special chair in someone’s home that is empty this year.  It may be the straight back chair at the dinner table, the office chair at the desk in the study, the lazy boy in the den, or some other special spot. It was a favorite for him or her. 

You may have seen it on a daily basis.  It may be in a place on the other side of the country.  It may be a memory from years ago. 

Last Christmas or some past Christmas, there was someone sitting in that special chair. This year it sits empty.

It is that empty chair that consumes your mind.  Everyone else is buying presents and talking about celebrating the season with family and friends. 

All of that joy and celebration only intensifies the absence of the one who should be in that empty chair. You may feel guilty and hypocritical because you do not feel very merry at all. 

King Solomon said that for everything there is a time; “a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;” (Ecclesiastes 3:4 ESV)  

If you have an empty chair this Christmas, it is okay to take some time in the midst of the celebration to also weep and mourn. If you do not have an empty chair this Christmas, pause for a moment and think of someone who does. Your most meaningful gift this year could be to let someone know that you also notice the empty chair. 

I’m Don Cole. Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas. 

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