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Late November to late December is my favorite time of the year. A season in which the problems of today and the uncertainties of the future seem to temporarily fade. Frank Sinatra's classic holiday song “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” includes the line, “From now on our troubles will be far away.” I've always loved this line and somehow my own naivety makes me cling to this unrealistic hope during the holidays even though I know it's impossible, at least on this side of life. I notice myself.
This year, the first Thanksgiving with empty chairs at the holiday table, reminded us of this truth.
The first time I noticed something wrong with my father was six years ago when I took my parents out to dinner. In the car, we all decided to go get burgers, but when we got to the restaurant, my dad insisted we were at a BBQ place. After that, he gave the wrong order multiple times.
Soon such incidents became more frequent as my father's memory evaporated due to severe dementia or Alzheimer's disease. It was not uncommon for him to experience hallucinations, be uncharacteristically grumpy, and exhibit strange behavior such as sneaking out of the house in his pajamas without shoes in the middle of a Texas summer.
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My father eventually came to a place where there was no quality of life at all, and I secretly prayed for God to take him. He was just someone who ate, slept, sat in a chair and stared off into space. He was physically unstable and my youngest son and I were regularly called by his mother to pick him up from the floor after he fell and bring him home.
Dad's memory is like “home”, a place like no other. A place I always come back to.
Three days before he went into hospice, I did something I hadn't done since I was a child. I went to his house after lunch and lay next to his bed for nearly two hours. As I reminded him of the past, I constantly asked him if he remembered any particular memories that stood out to me. I brought up both happy memories, like hunting and fishing trips, and painful ones, like when my house was destroyed in a tornado. He could not remember recent events, but there were definitely some events in the distant past that he could recall.
Jay Lowder and his father
At that moment, I had no idea that this would be the last conversation I would have with my father on this earth. My father lived for another 10 days, but never spoke to me again.
Well, Thanksgiving has arrived. We will be gathering without my father for the first time on this holiday. We lose a loved one and feel a great sense of loss.
Perhaps you too are facing a similar scenario this year, with empty chairs at your holiday table. It's the perfect time to remember, cherish, and honor the legacy of your loved one through feasting, fellowship, and perhaps even tears. It's a time to focus on your precious memories, look at past photos, and reminisce about the good times.
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My father's presence was the essence of Thanksgiving because he lived his life in a spirit of gratitude, never complained, and was always optimistic. Never in all our years of celebrating would I have imagined that one day he would not be sitting at the head of the Thanksgiving table. The thought of our linchpin being absent during the holidays and leaving his seat vacant was unthinkable.
Jay Lowder and his father
Although my father will be missing this year, I am grateful that his influence on my life will never go away. My father was always a rock. When the inevitable hurricane came into his life, he was the eye of the storm where everything remained calm. I always believed my father was invincible. Even in his 70s, my father was able to outwork most men half his age. There was no impact that would cause him to come off the center line. Loyal to Mama…check it out. Dedication to family…check. Unwavering belief…please reaffirm. I am firm in my faith in Christ…please reaffirm.
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My father's memory is like “home”, a place like no other. A place I always come back to.
My father's chair will be empty this Thanksgiving, but I take comfort in knowing he is not gone. My father just changed his address and we'll meet again there someday. Yes, the chair will be empty, but the hope will not be. That's why I celebrate this Thanksgiving.
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