The holidays have a way of magnifying both joy and sorrow. For many of us who have lost a partner, this season can stir emotions in a way that defies explanation. There is beauty in the lights, warmth in family gatherings, and comfort in traditions, but there is also the quiet ache of absence. It is often during the holidays that we miss our loved ones the most.
When we began our marriages, we dreamed of the years ahead. We imagined sitting side by side, surrounded by children and grandchildren, sharing laughter around the table. Both of us, enjoying and sharing family traditions and passing them on to the next generation together. We never imagined that one of those chairs would sit empty, and we would be the only one to pass on the traditions.
During the holidays, that empty chair feels especially present. It may be at the dinner table, in a favorite recliner, at kids’ recitals, or in the church pew where you once sat together. It becomes a silent reminder of the love that once filled that space, and sometimes the weight of that memory feels almost too heavy to carry.
For Jeni, one of the hardest reminders has always been the empty pew at church, the chair at the dinner table, and the recliner in the living room that still seems to hold his presence. Even his favorite seat on the deck can stop her for a moment as memories flood back. That space mirrors the one in her heart that still feels unfillable.
For Teresa, it’s the quiet, empty side of the bed, the side of the couch, the missing truck in the driveway, and the empty place at the dinner table. Each reminder, though painful, also carries gratitude for the love that shaped who we are and the life we were blessed to share.
The Work That Continues
Some years ago, Jeni attended a baby shower at the same church where we once presented our seminar titled “The Empty Chair.” During that visit, she found herself sitting beside a widow who had attended that presentation. After the event, that woman introduced her to another widow who was just beginning her own journey.
The three of them spent time sharing stories, tears, and the kind of understanding that only comes from lived experience. Moments like that remind us how important connection is during the holidays, when memories feel sharper, and the empty spaces stand out a little more.
This season can be difficult, but it can also bring opportunities to sit with others who understand. Healing grows through these conversations, heart to heart and widow to widow. Whether we are offering support or receiving it, something sacred happens when we walk beside one another. There is comfort in shared silence, healing in shared laughter, and hope in knowing that we are never truly alone.
Making Space for Both Grief and Gratitude
The holidays invite us to hold both grief and gratitude at the same time. You may find yourself smiling one minute and crying the next. That is completely normal. Grief does not cancel joy, and joy does not erase grief. They can coexist.
If the empty chair feels too heavy this year, give yourself permission to adapt your traditions. Spend time with the people who bring you peace. Say your loved one’s name out loud. Light a candle in their memory. Share a story that makes you laugh.
It is also okay to create new traditions that honor the life you are living now. Maybe you gather with friends instead of hosting a large family dinner. Maybe you spend the day volunteering, traveling, or simply resting. Whatever you choose, let it fit your heart in this season.
Over time, both of our journeys have led us to new places and new relationships that have helped us rediscover joy. There are people in those chairs now, and there is laughter again. It is not the same, but it is still good. The holidays continue to bring reminders of the life we once had, but they also bring gratitude for the love that remains and the connections that continue to grow.
Our Holiday Wish for You
As you move through the holidays, may you find comfort in the memories that warm your heart and peace in the moments that are still unfolding.
May the empty chair remind you not only of loss but also of enduring love.
May laughter find its way back into your home.
May light touch the places that still feel dark.
May you find rest when you need solitude and the right people when you need support.
May your widow waves be manageable.
May you hold on to the advice that helps and release what does not.
May you take this journey at your own pace, not the pace others expect of you.
And may you enter the new year knowing that healing, though never complete, is always possible.
Psalm 34:18 says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”
This verse reminds us that God draws near in our deepest pain and offers comfort when our hearts feel heavy.
This season, may that closeness bring you peace, comfort, and light.
With love and gentle hope,
Jeni and Teresa
Resources to Support You
Preparing for the Holidays – support and tips
The First Days: Coping with Life After Loss – for those in early grief
My Journey as a Widow: A Widow’s First Journal – for reflection and healing
10 Ways to Move Forward After Loss – free download
Join the Conversation
If you are facing an empty chair this holiday season, we would love to hear from you. Share your memories, traditions, or reflections with us in the comments or on our Torn in Half Facebook page. Your story may bring comfort to someone who needs to know they are not alone.
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