Over the years at the tables I have laugh, sighed, been reflective crazy mad and at times sadness would fill my soul. But tonight, such grief and anguish caught me by a quiet surprise as such a special family came to my tables of life tonight. It was late here when I got home. But like a hundred other stories of life at the tables this story needed to be told of this family and their loss. “See you again” by Charlie Puth plays softly in the background as I sit down and do what I do best.
Lee you have a party of eleven sitting in a few moments the hostess called out handing me the menus. It was a slow night so the larger party would be a welcome break from standing around and complaining with everyone else about how slow it was. Heck we complain when it is busy.
The party had made it’s way from the bar where they had waited for the table to set for their party. Four generations of this family had made the journey to my tables on this night. The youngest was about to earn the nickname corn dog from his uncle who sat close to the youngest at one end of the tables representing the fourth generation. I was to learn during the meal that the get together was one of remembrance and love.
“Grief is not a disorder, a disease, or a sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical, and spiritual necessity; the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.”
Slowly as the meal was served I was to learn that a man had left this family two-years ago. Not just any man but a husband, father, grandfather, uncle, son, and a child of the oldest couple who sat so quiet at one end of the table touching each other for the support of the moment.
How do I breathe without you? Feeling so cold, so old. I am all alone without you. “Lee” a beautiful lady whispered to me handing me her card to pay the bill when the time came. Tears in her eyes pain filled her voice. “Two years my husband of seventeen years been gone.” It was more of a whisper not to me but to the painful time of two years gone by.
What I needed was for someone to tell me that it hurt because he so mattered.
Placing the card in my pocket I moved on down to see how the newly named corn dog was doing eating between his uncle and father. Brothers, sons of this man who had left this family way to soon.
The Pain won't last, But the memories will.
The son spoke quietly not to me but to himself to the man who was now gone. Spoke of a man that taught him so much in life. “Dad how will I live to be a great dad without your advice?” Such a real question.
“No father should have to bury his son. No father should have to do what I've done.”
“How doing tonight sir?” The man and his wife continued to lean into each other for strength. It was as if they would simply stop being if the connection wasn’t there. Quietly
he spoke to me of his loss and such pain.
I do understand that words cannot fill the void or pain you are feeling. I understand the daze of not knowing if you're in a dream. I don’t believe time will heal the pain of your loss of your son. As a dad if I lost my son Paul I would go to the beach and just sit down and cease to be. For without my son there is no me. I weep with you for your loss as a dad. I feel the pain you and your wife must feel every day.
Even as I’m shedding tears for your loss, I’m honored that this family allowed me the memories of such a special Husband, Dad, Uncle, Son, and so much more and the special sadness that comes when you lose a child. Thank you for coming to one of my tables of life tonight ~ D.L. Tracey {Lee}
"There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief." ~ Aeschylus