A Fridge Chair (of sorts)

During the holidays, some families honor the memory of their loved ones who have moved on from this realm by leaving an empty chair and place setting at their table for them.  I’ve never been quite sure how I felt about this practice of remembrance; it was never something that my family did for any of our loved ones.  At least, I didn’t think we did, until I rearranged our refrigerator recently to make room for the extra holiday food. 

As I went through the process of setting items on the kitchen counter so that I could remove an annoying shelf that limited the space for tall items (like red wine), I discovered a can of Sprite at the very back of our fridge.  The Sprite was dated 2021, the year of my mother’s death, and I remembered that the soda came with a take-out order from a local Italian restaurant that fed us as we found our way through the aftermath of Mom’s “crossing over.”  As I looked at that Sprite, I realized I’d had my own version of an empty chair all along.  You see, I don’t even drink soda, but Sprite had been my late mother’s soda of choice for a long time; and it was for that reason that I’d ordered it and kept it—I’d done that for her.

That Sprite is still sitting by my kitchen sink, where it’s been since Thanksgiving.  For some reason, I can’t quite find a way to pour it out.  I do plan to pour it out soon, and ceremoniously so, but not yet.  Grief is a funny thing, a thing that indeed sneaks up on us in unexpected ways, during the holiday season most especially.  And though remembering can be hard, it can also be healing.  I believe God wants us to remember.  From Old Testament memory stones to New Testament bread/wine, God validates our remembrances of people and experiences that have and that continue to shape our lives, with the most important example being that of the person of Jesus the Christ.

Christ, with his every breath, taught us what it means to love even when love isn’t what we feel.  He taught us what it means to make peace even when fighting is what the flesh is telling us.  He taught us what it means to hold on to God’s promises even when a sense of forsakenness is what plagues our spirit.  And as we remember our loved ones during this holiday season in whatever way/ways work for us (out-of-date sodas, empty chairs, etc.), we must also remember that God taught us, through His and our Christ, that a physical death is not the end of anyone’s story.  And I don’t think that there’s any better time of the year to remember that part of our faith than Christmas!