The Empty Chair

If life were fair, I thought to myself as I looked through the camera lens, this chair would not be empty. There would be a very tall man, with straight blonde hair and a mustache, sitting and relaxing with a glass of wine in his hand, smiling at his daughter on this the night of her college graduation celebration. He would be too proud to be contained and would be loud and vocal and possibly get a little tipsy. And he would be entitled.

Friends and family were gathered on this warm May night to give gifts and praise and share in the beautiful young woman's accomplishments - summa cum laude, to no one's surprise - and her first real steps into the world after college. The house was alive with bright conversations, hugs as people came and went, congratulations and laughter. Old stories were repeated and old jokes retold, glasses of wine were poured and the table was piled with food and flowers. Her sisters and mother looked on, proud and easily willing to concede her center stage. Just before the gifts were opened, I found myself alone on the back deck, looking through the lens of my camera at an empty chair amid a colorful array of plants and flowers silhouetted against the night sky. Though the night was a happy one, I found myself thinking back to a time when the girls were just children, a time when their lives were unchanged by loss, a time when their daddy was alive and well, vital and strong, a force to be reckoned with if ever there was one. I thought of how much of him was in each of them, especially the youngest with her fiery, quick temper and independent streak. She had been a strong willed child, defiant at times and stubborn, loyal to a fault,
and bright as a new penny. She looks the least like him with her dark hair but her smile reminds me of him, her dry humor could be his, and his determination and curiosity are clearly in her genes. She is already a force to be reckoned with.

The image of the empty chair stayed with me, I felt a familiar ache in my heart, then I let it go and rejoined the party inside. There are nights for sadness and nights for celebration and this night was for a daughter making her way in the world. Her daddy might not have been at her side, but I could feel his presence all around me and I knew he was watching.