The Empty Chair

December 24, 2011 was one of the most bitter-sweet holidays I've ever experienced. Christmas (and in particular Christmas Eve) was always our favorite holiday, and we loved the joy and camaraderie that came along with it. In the months and weeks leading up to Christmas, Mike would always say that he wanted to be the bartender at Nana and Grandpa's cocktail hour. I remember he said it as recently as last summer -- "Tell Grandpa I want to be bartender this year."
Mike did not get to be the bartender. He didn't get to enjoy the laughter. He didn't get to give and receive gifts. His absence was keenly felt, yet we tried to push through, believing he was there with us, somehow. Uncle Bob led us in a wonderful, tear-filled toast, acknowledging Mike's absence, noting a void that can never be filled, and a soul that will never be forgotten.
Cheers, Mikey.


























Cousin Christine and her son, Gabe, drove up from Texas and spent a few days visiting with us. We enjoyed "A Christmas Story"-style dinner at a Chinese restaurant (minus the decapitated duck).