I was planning to send you all a simple Christmas message, but the following words begged to be included.
They were written by Candy Scott, the beautiful friend I spoke of in my last post, (the one who whispered compassionate words of love and support when I was keenly missing my son).
That heartfelt encounter has sent loving ripples out into the world. I went home feeling held and loved in my validated grief. She continued with her day, reverberating with a realization her own words — the ones she thought she was speaking for me — had brought her. My hesitant finger pressed the ‘publish’ button on the entry I wasn’t sure I should post. She crafted a beautiful message that she sent out to her facebook tribe. In both cases, our words struck a poignant chord with others. We shared a phone conversation about connections and ripples and vulnerability, about purpose and mentors and angels, and now I want to share with you, Candy’s beautiful message, followed by my wish for you — today, tomorrow, and rippling ahead of you far into the new year.
An Empty Chair At The Table
There is an irrevocable truth about Christmas and the holidays: an empty chair at the table where once a loved one sat begets moments of sadness and longing in the midst of a joyful celebration of peace, love and goodwill towards all.
A dear friend of mine reluctantly shared her sorrow, knowing her son will not be home for Christmas this year. Why reluctantly? She felt guilty that he is away by choice traveling the world, and my son has died. She felt it unfair to me, that she should share her tears and unhappiness as though my sadness was in some way greater than hers.
May I tell you all a truth that I have come to know? No matter the reason for the empty chair at the table and there are hundreds, death, divorce, illness, life changes and choices, fights and feuds or being away working to support your family. There is no, “more important” sorrow than another.
If your heart is heavy and tears flow because someone you love cannot be with you, who better than me or anyone who knows the feeling and pain of an empty chair at the table: to offer you a hug and a shoulder to lean on. My heart feels yours.
If you are lonely, if you are sad, if you are missing a loved one, please reach out. There is somebody who cares and who will listen. Thank you for letting me be that somebody for you dear friend.
There are empty chairs at every table and as we move thru this season, cry as you need, laugh if you can, share the memories, because this kind of missing and longing comes only from having loved deeply.
And that is something wondrous we all can share.
Merry Christmas Everyone. Joy To The World.