Sixteen years ago, I heard some of the worst news I could ever hear.
The doctor told me I had “incurable cancer,” the kind that takes your life in a matter of weeks or months, not years. So what did I do?
I went shopping.
Each one of us has our own personality, and mine is not to stand there but to do something. I’m really not much of a shopper, but I thought, If this cancer is going to get me, what could I do to prepare for it?
So, I bought a chair. Not any chair, but a chair to put in my bedroom. If I was going to die, I wanted something comfy next to the bed for friends and family to sit, relax, and maybe even doze while they were with me.
And I found it. Almost double-wide, its rounded arms and soft cushions enfold the sitter. Brass buttons and its beige-gold color make it feel like a throne. And the velour-like fabric reminds you of an indulgent velvet. Add an upholstered footstool and a colorful pillow to it, and it is a complete ensemble.
That was 16 years ago, and it’s still in the bedroom. It’s a little more cramped now because we moved, and the new bedroom is smaller, but just as the cancer moved with me, the chair came also. It’s been used as a reading chair, my husband’s dressing chair, and a Zoom chair in the late afternoons when light pours through the window next to it.
But it’s still waiting to be used for its intended purpose.
Some would say I’m a very thoughtful person to buy a chair for loved ones to sit in, but honestly, I’m selfish. I don’t want to be alone, forgotten, while others go on with their lives. Instead, I want them to feel welcomed into my life, my suffering, not that they would feel sad, but that they could share with me the most poignant of emotions when life is wrapping up as I step into the future.
Sometimes, I wonder if it will ever be used for its intended purpose. Right now, its purpose is to remind me, as I see it daily, that the day of its intended use is not today. Today is my time to do other things that call to me as I have health and strength.
But when the time comes, the chair and I are ready.
Think about/Comment: What are things you need to do now to prepare for the future that might comfort you or others?
I love this! The chair is a wonderful reminder of what is not yet but what will someday happen. In the meantime, it’s useful–kind of like Winnie the Pooh’s useful pot. I appreciate your attitude about not being left alone, of inviting others into your life no matter what the circumstances. Thanks for this beautiful picture of preparation and peace.
Thank you, Dayle. It’s been a long journey and you’ve been a great encourager along the way!
“Not today”—may there be many more Zoom days for your chair. Thanks for writing.
Mom – I will always be there. I, my siblings and dad will make sure you are never alone. You have so many who love and admire you. We thank God for everyday you are here with us creating new memories. Your strength is so inspiring. Always thinking of others. Whatever the future I will always be there. – your daughter
I know you will be. It’s just nice to think that you will have a comfy chair.
What a beautiful example of doing what you have control of, in a situation you don’t have control over. And i love that you haven’t needed that chair yet, dear friend!! Thanks for sharing this so well, love your writing.
You are such an encouragement to me!