My Dad’s Chair
Dream from Howard Johnson’s in Pennsylvania on the way to my father’s funeral: I dreamt that I was staying in a big house next to my mother’s house, but I didn’t go over to see her. Eventually, she came to visit me. She seemed frail sitting at the kitchen table. I don’t know if I thought it or said it out loud, but I realized the reason I hadn’t gone to see her was because I couldn’t face seeing my father’s things, especially his chair that sat in front of the TV with the footstool next to it where the TV remote control sat. Next to the remote were all the other things my dad used to “operate” (a magnifying glass, eyeglasses, scissors and etc.) that no one else was allowed to touch.
The day before I dreamt this, while riding 81 north towards Boston, my husband reminded me that my dad would be buried at the gravesite with my brothers, Jim and Dan. “Oh! I hadn’t thought of that,” I answered and then pondered the image it conjured. “All I can think about is his chair with him not sitting in it. For me, his chair will be his place-keeper shrine and the place I will go to, to hopefully feel his spirit”
December 1st, 2005 2:52 pm
Very sorry to hear about your father. You are in my thoughts and prayers.
December 1st, 2005 3:56 pm
And worse than his chair (for me anyway) was his bedroom. Tuesday moring I walked in the house, which was also difficult, and went straight to his bedroom. On the walls and shelves were all the pictures of his young life, his brothers and sisters, his service life, his family. I threw myself on his bed a wailed…afterwards I felt a little better. Today we did the collages; turned out to be rewarding, even through tears. What a tribute to our dad! Also: Thanks to everyone for your support.
December 1st, 2005 4:53 pm
So sorry.
How well I know those feelings. I ran accross my father’s reading glasses a year after he died and bawled like a baby.
~K!
December 1st, 2005 8:44 pm
Oh Colleen..I’m so sorry. Something told me to come visit today. Now, unfortunately I know why. I wish you peace and strength. Take care.
December 1st, 2005 8:44 pm
Oh Colleen..I’m so sorry. Something told me to come visit today. Now, unfortunately I know why. I wish you peace and strength. Take care.
December 1st, 2005 9:41 pm
the chair, the scissors, the magnifying glass…I understand…
December 2nd, 2005 12:45 am
I can understand that remaining spirit. For some weeks after my father died I let his flannel shirt remain on “his” chair because it was like a presence for me. My thoughts and prayers are with you and yours.
December 2nd, 2005 1:28 am
Colleen. I am sorry for your loss. I hope that you are able to have a wonderful celebration of his life. I get the chair thing. That is what hit me the most returning to my grandparent’s home after my grandfather died. It is amazing how a physical possession can evoke such an emotional response. Take care of yourself. I’m sure things are incredibly difficult for you right now.
December 2nd, 2005 7:40 am
My thoughts and prayers are with all of you this weekend. My heart is aching for you. I am happy for Uncle Robert though…I’m sure he’s with your brothers, his brothers and sisters (including my Nana). Somehow I imagine there is a family reunion going on.:)
December 2nd, 2005 10:12 am
Colleen,
I am sorry to read about your loss. My Grandmother just passed away at the age of 89 and I know that death is always difficult.
You have handled your grief so admirably by writing it out in the past and I think that your creativity will continue to help you.
December 2nd, 2005 11:08 am
My deepest condolences on the loss of your father. It’s never easy, whether you’re prepared or not.
December 2nd, 2005 12:16 pm
My dad also had “his chair”. It still resides where it always did..in front of my mom’s TV. It took awhile.. but now I love to sit in it. It is one of the places I feel the closest to my dad.
December 2nd, 2005 5:56 pm
Colleen …
God, do I fully understand “the chair.”
I’ll have to send you and email after things settle down. I have a story but it’s way too long to write in comments.
I am so pleased to see that you’re writing; I’m not surprised, just really really pleased.
Stay strong – and if you can’t – it just means you’re pretty darned normal.
Don’t forget to take care of you.
December 2nd, 2005 6:21 pm
My first visit to your blog and I sit here crying for the loss of your father who you so obviously loved dearly. My prayers are with you.
December 2nd, 2005 11:16 pm
After my dad died, when I went back to his house in preparation for cleaning it out and back again when it was to sell, I sat in “his” chair and felt his essence around me. It was one of my favorite places, and eventually I brought that chair home with me. I was finally able to let it go, but it was a place of comfort for a good, long time. Hope his chair will be that for you too, Colleen. Take care.
December 2nd, 2005 11:17 pm
Colleen, when my dad died, sitting in “his” recliner gave me immense comfort. I hope your dad’s chair will help you too.
December 3rd, 2005 2:58 am
Colleen, my dear…You have been on my mind ever since coming by your blog and reading about your father’s death….I sure understand the “chair”. There are these things that become even dearer to you after someone dies…they are like Touchstones in a way, aren’t they…comforting and heart breaking, too….My father’s widow sent me a short very colorful terry robe of his a few months after he died and she had put a few things in the pockets; these were soooo very dear to me, I cannot tell you….a bow tie, a handkercheif with his initials on it and his little tiny bottle of nitroglycerine, which he carried all the time. I hope that you will have those touchstones of your father that will be of great comfort to you even if they sting the eyes with tears, too…
My father died 24 years ago, and I still have that robe hanging on the back of my dressing room door along with some other things…I still find it very very comforting.
December 3rd, 2005 7:24 pm
I am so sorry to hear about your father. ( ( ( HUGS ) ) )
December 4th, 2005 3:39 pm
Colleen, I am so sorry for your loss, and such an unexpected on with him seemingly on the mend. Huge hugs to you and your mom, and your siblings.
xoxoxo
Leanne
December 4th, 2005 6:45 pm
Came back to check on you. **hugs**
December 4th, 2005 6:45 pm
Came back to check on you. **hugs**
December 5th, 2005 4:34 pm
I remember being very annoyed when my mother reupholstered my daddy’s chair. Potpourri appeared in the ashtray, covering the “old fishermen never die” saying. An art book hides the coffee rings on the end table behind it.
I’m sorry for your loss. He sounds like he was quite a character.