Empty chairs at the holiday table.

I lost my best friend recently to leukemia. 

We were friends for sixty years. Our entire lives. 

See here a picture of us on our first day of kindergarden together. I'm the little guy on the left. His mother took the picture of us together. We were already friends before that day. Grew up a block away from each other. Six decades of memories. Eisenhower was in the White House when we were already telling each other stories and making each other laugh. Best man at each other's weddings. Godfather to my daughter. Watched his three kids grow up. Helped me carry my father's casket etc etc etc.

When we were kids we would venture out onto the railroad trestle that crosses the wide river of our hometown. We would go to the middle and climb down between the railroad ties and down the iron crossbeams. At the bottom were large, flat, square cement footings and we would sit there, stretch out and own that river like Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. Unbothered.

I saw him just three days before he was gone. We watched the Jets game like we had a hundred times before (he used to say that he was going to write a book, -"Drinking Whiskey in the Dark, -my life as a Jets fan"). Then on the following Wednesday his sister called to tell me he was gone. I thought I'd have him for at least a couple more months and get to ask all the important questions. I never got to say goodbye.

At his memorial service I declared that I considered myself a fortunate man -to have had a person of such character as such a friend for such time. 

Years ago when I had gone to Kenya I brought back two lion claws and gave him one. He carried that freakin' thing in his wallet. Now they both hang on my Christmas tree. 

Such rich memories, and such a gaping vacuum in the middle of your celebrations. May you find comfort in the company of loved family and friends. 

Thanks for sharing steel. Such a big ouch. I have a couple of empty chairs at my table too. My little sister Terry and my big brother Charlie. I miss them like crazy.

you will carry him in your heart

well that part is true. So many rich and wonderful memories.   

I'm sorry you've had to deal with this pain and loss.  It's hard not to feel like there are things you should have done, questions you should have asked, things you should have told.  But that deep friendship, for that long time, goes way far beyond what you did or didn't say.  You know that and he would too.  And there's nothing stopping you from still talking to him.

Love the photo, steel. So innocent, with only the present moment in mind, ready for a new adventure.

Steel, thanks for sharing your beautiful sentiments about your dear friend.  It really touched me.  A friend like that is one of life's greatest gifts.  

My deepest condolences.  Please know that your friend of sixty years will never leave you.  You have become too much a part of each other for that to ever happen. He will be there at that holiday table this holiday and in holidays to come.

my condolences too, but you're also such a lucky, lucky man to have had such a friendship.

Steel, I am so very sorry for your loss.  I understand in a small way how you feel.  I too lost a dear friend this October, suddenly and unexpectedly.   I have been a realtor for 20 years and worked closely with my friend for 18 of those.  We each had our own business but we were partners in every sense.  I always had her back and she always had mine.  She was one of the best friends I have had in my life,  a sister-mother-friend-confidant-partner-buddy.   I feel her loss every day and miss her more than I can say.  At times it is very hard.  Having experienced loss before all I can say is that it takes time but it gets easier.  I take comfort in the knowledge that I was always a great friend to her and was always the best friend and partner I knew how to be.  I am a better person for having known her.  We both learned so much from each other and grew as a result.  In that small way I hope her legacy lives on.

I am so sorry for your loss. The holidays drive home the vacuums in our lives. I am having a much tougher time this year dealing with my Mom's death than I did last year, for some reason. She passed in October of 2013. 

So many memories, particularly at this time of year, which Mom loved, although she came to dread the uproar of preparation.

For me, I suppose the evolution of grief is that this year the numbness of last Christmas has been replaced by pain that is laced through with bittersweet memories. I put up Mom's Christmas ornaments and decorations (the living room looks a bit like Christmas threw up in there, if I'm honest) cheek-by-jowl with mine, and each is loaded with recollections. 

We honor and cherish our missing loved ones as best we can. They never quite leave, do they?

Sorry to hear.   Sounds like you have some great memories.

So very sorry, steel. Wonderful memories. May they help you through the rough times...

My condolences to all who have that empty place at the table.   It's been nine years, but we still miss my brother-in-law dearly at this time of year.  There are songs I can't listen to without tearing up - Have yourself a merry little Christmas, for instance.   But, we were blessed beyond measure to have had him in our lives.

Such a beautiful tribute to your friend.  

Sounds like you guys are brothers, and always will be. 

Your sentiments are beautiful, and my day is better for having read them. In that you are a living part of who he was- a man most of us never knew touches those willing to listen even in physical death.

OOTG, that's a rough one. You're a decent woman- that comes through in your posts- which I don't always agree with! But your decency is apparent to all. You know a lot about families when you encounter one of their members. You represent your "team" well, though they are not able to represent themselves any longer. 

Sarah, so many of us watch the comings and goings of colleagues with a shrug- of course we care, but we're just so damn BUSY. It sucks that you are hurting for your friend, but it's also the greatest of things- the only thing, really- that we offer one another- and it gets harder to offer the further you move from the "inner circle" we all have. 

It sounds like you love easily and consequently hurt more often- and that's a burden for you but a blessing to the world.

Peggy, I'm sorry about your Mom- you are lucky to have that sort of love in your life, and your Mom was blessed to have a daughter whose devotion and love is so complete that even little bits of glass, plastic and wood brings her back to life.

what a sad but beautiful thread. Steel, I am sure your friend knew how much he meant to you.

I will take an extra special moment with the people filling the chairs around my table this year because you never know when their chair will become empty.  

So many wonderful responses here. Well done MOL.

Normally I try not to be a buzzkill but felt compelled to post that picture and story somewhere. These things need be given their due.

On the bright side. -In an hour I'm going to the train station to pick-up my daughter and her hubby. They've been living abroad for almost four years (Uganda, London, Singapore) and have now moved back to the States down in DC. -So it will be a great homecoming to the little town of Maplewood that she grew up in with her many great friends that I suspect she will know all her life.

And so it goes...

This year marks the second Christmas without our son. He always loved Christmas and wrote very long notes to Santa! As an adult, that spirit of Christmas never left him and he was just a kid again, peaking under the Christmas tree to see if any of the gifts had John written on them. He had an irrepressible joy for life and left everyone who loved him with fondest memories of him. He just had 49 years of life but he will never be forgotten. God bless you, John.

mtierney, I am so very sorry about your son.

hugs to all of us grieving this Christmas.  Steel, thank you for sharing your story. What a beautiful tribute to your friend and friendship and how lucky you were to have had each other.  

You reminded me to call my BFF.  We have been friends since we were 5.  We haven't lived in the same state for years and years and yet when together, it's like we were never apart.  She drove from Indiana to upstate NY to be with me at my mom's funeral in April even though we hadn't spoken for months.  

I will call her now and drink a toast to you and your friend for the reminder. 

Carolanne   

I was listening to a public radio story on the Irving Berlin song, "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas."  As we know, it kind of a downer of a song. A song about longing for what is not going to happen and for what was that cannot be brought back.

The background is that Berlin's 3 month old son died on Christmas day a few years before he wrote the song. The day must have been a bitch for Berlin. I lost my father on Christmas day and I know its still a bitch.

Steel, the Jets game yesterday made me hope your friend was with you in spirit, watching those passes connect.  No Jets fans at our house, but we were happy for our Jets fan friends.

I'm so sorry for your loss.   <3

I'm sorry for your loss,  but thank you for sharing.   It is beautiful tribute.  

TK