This year, the table stretches wide,
New friends joining add extra seats, yet
Your place is set softly at the side.
Plates clatter, voices lift and laugh—
But your absence echoes through the hall.
The chair sits quietly, still, aware
Of every story, only you can share.
The gravy flows, the pies abound,
Yet in the space, your memory’s found.
The bread is passed, the gravy poured,
We each feel the shadow of your hand.
We speak your name in gentle sighs,
And taste your absence in our eyes.
The warmth of family, candles’ glow,
Cannot fill what only you bestow.
A silent toast, a whispered prayer,
Love surrounds the empty chair.
Time will teach us to laugh again,
To carve the turkey, count the friends,
But grief lives softly, always near—
First Thanksgiving with the empty chair.
Grief invades a holiday – Gratitude helps heal the pain.
—Karen Taylor
