If the Fates Allow

Everybody took their seats at my kitchen table on Christmas Eve as I lit up the holiday candle.

I looked around at my dinner guests: my parents, my Uncle Joe and my brother Peter.

They have all died—Peter and Joe both this year, actually--but that didn’t slow down the proceedings.

Years ago, my shrink introduced me to the concept of chair work therapy as a way of processing grief.

The idea is that you imagine a deceased person “sitting” in an empty chair and speak to them as if they are alive.

The empty chair technique was popularized by Gestalt therapists, but it was first developed and demonstrated by Jacob Levy Moreno, a student of Sigmund Freud’s, in 1921.

Some possible positive effects of the method include reducing harmful thoughts toward yourself, experiencing greater insight into your own feelings and finding peace and acceptance.

“Engaging in an empty chair session can often be emotionally intense,” according to PsychCentral, an online resource for health and psychology. “Still, it can help people achieve closure, a more positive frame of mind, and heal from grief.”

I can personally attest to the “emotionally intense” portion of this technique. Several years ago, I did my first chair work session with my mother--and I must have sobbed my way through a whole box of Kleenex.

And while I can’t say I achieved closure—a word I truly dislike—I did feel much better. However, I didn’t return to the empty chair technique until last week.

Please Be Seated

I’m not sure why I let the practice slide, but my current therapist—whom I paired up with after my brother’s death in May—has encouraged me to get back to it.

Christmas Eve is important to me because my Italian grandmother used to leave food out for the souls of deceased relatives.

I’ve never done this, but a few years ago I started my own Christmas Eve tradition of lighting a candle, playing Nat King Cole’s version of “O Holy Night”—one of my favorite Christmas carols—and saying prayers for those who have gone before.

This year I decided to invite all these people I love so much and miss so terribly so I could talk with them and ask them questions.

I felt strange at first, sitting alone in the dark in front of a flickering candle, but as I looked from chair to chair, I didn’t feel alone for very long.

I pictured the four of them sitting around me and I tried to imagine what advice they would give me if they were here.

“Do you want me to stop hurting myself?” I asked. “How about I really try hard to stop tearing myself down and being so miserable?”

I know that’s what they want and I know that’s the best thing I can do to honor their memories and make myself happier in the process. And when I blew out the candle, I felt a light come on in my heart.

Like all forms of therapy, the empty chair technique may not work for everyone, and analysts warn that you may not get the emotional benefits you’re looking for.

PsychCentral said that talking with a therapist or a counselor trained and experienced in the empty chair technique is often the best starting place if you think you might benefit from it.

I know that it is helping me and I’m not going to wait for next Christmas to try it again.

Comments

Bijoux said…
I’m glad you’ve found methods to deal with your grief, Rob. I hope your 2026 is full of hope and joy.
Rob, I have heard of setting a place for a family member or friend who is longer here to celebrate the holidays. This year, we toasted our late friend, Solange, with another friend, Jack, joined us for Christmas Eve dinner. In past years, they would both be with us. We also displayed the snowman cards that Solange had given us over the past few years we knew her.
Also, hope that you have a great 2026 and celebrate being you!
Rob Lenihan said…
@thanks so much, dearest Bijoux! Wishing you and your family nothing but the best in 2026!
Rob Lenihan said…
Thank you so much, Dorothy! Have a great 2026! That's such a lovely tribute to your departed friends.

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