An Empty Chair

By Vincent 

She sat in her spot for a little more than three years… not in the center of the room, but strategically placed where she could take in everything that went on and see every person who walked into the space…

There she read her daily newspaper… antiquated by today’s standards, with technology having become the main source of news for so many… She faithfully completed the crossword puzzle hidden in the latter pages, read about the world’s happenings, critiqued the articles about her beloved Yankees, and always offered her undeniable opinion of how horrible,,, or how great,,,they were playing… Over the years, the Yankees went from Greats to Bums! A quintessential tough New York fan who probably could have been the manager… and yes, even the managers could not escape her critique!!! Frank was right,,, if you can make it there you can make it anywhere!!!

In that spot she sat, well into her late nineties keeping herself occupied until someone stopped to talk with her or complimented her artwork… That simple gesture would spark a conversation…

Everyone knew her… the care staff, visitors, housekeeping, maintenance, food service, and fellow residents… She was loved by many because she spent so much of those three years in that very same spot… her mind most likely wandering at times… perhaps wondering, “How did I get here?” Or maybe drifting back to another place and another time…

She had special friends who looked out for her… She had special friends who watched Yankee games with her… One gentleman walked those hallways day after day, and almost every time he passed, he would gently touch her shoulder or simply look at her and laugh and smile… she returned the favor… He rarely said much, but you could see he loved her… There was a physical therapist who connect with her,,, he even brought his children to see her and often told us, “She’s like a grandmother to me.”

She had a way of drawing people to her…

She probably could have run for mayor…

Whenever she spotted family or close friends turn that corner and walk over to visit, her face would almost always light up with joy… relieved to be taken somewhere different for a while, where conversations could be shared over M&M’s, a ginger ale, a cup of coffee, italian cookies or a chicken parm wedge… Those times in the central gathering area were moments when she laughed, when she cried, and when she got angry… She sometimes said things she probably didn’t mean… but beneath it all, she loved deeply…

She celebrated three birthdays there… the last one her 100th… surrounded by family, children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren…

Just over two months after that remarkable milestone, she quietly and peacefully left us… a gentle departure that stood in stark contrast to her years of surviving cancer and navigating Parkinson’s disease…

Determined not to let those situations define her, she continued creating beautiful coloring pages… They were so remarkable that the organization framed several of them and proudly displayed them on the walls for everyone to enjoy… until the Parkinson’s robbed her of the last bit of muscle energy…

She truly was an amazing and strong woman…

Mary… that was her name…

Oddly enough, a small God Bless America heart remains taped to the wall above the place where she sat…

Where MARY once sat…

And now sits an empty chair…