I remember telling my father through tear filled eyes, “I can’t do it… Daddy, I just can’t sit in Mom’s chair. It still seems like a hallowed and sacred spot.” Mom had been gone for several months, but I simply could not cross that emotional barrier yet. Daddy purchased that chair for her comfort because it was so difficult for her to move. It was an oversized recliner made of soft brown leather. They had it mounted so it could turn a complete 360 degrees. This way she could reach the bookcase to her right which also held the TV remote. And she could also reach the left where she kept her crochet hooks, yarn and her hand games. The chair was draped with Mom’s favorite blankets so she was never cold. She even slept in the chair when the pain was so bad that getting to her bed was not possible or practical. Because Daddy saw to her every need, she only had to get up to go to the bathroom (and I am sure they would have made that possible too if there was a way!)
While Mom was alive and in her hospital bed, we all sat in the chair. It seemed just fine then. In fact, we were sitting there when Mom looked at Nick and Kimberly and said, “There’s a baby over there!” None of us knew yet of their pregnancy because they had not made the announcement. But SHE KNEW!!!! Our visits to St. George came and went and I sat in the chair briefly, but never for too long; it just didn’t seem comfortable or proper to me at the time.
You can imagine my joy when I got this wonderful picture of our new granddaughter, Tamsin Joyce (named after my mother) in Mom’s chair. She was smiling from ear to ear. Something changed inside me when I saw that picture. Mom has been gone a year and I finally feel that the emotional barrier is gone. The next time I visit Daddy, I am going to snuggle in that chair with my favorite fuzzy blanket and good book because I know now that is right where my mom would want me to be!
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