For all my years when I'd come home there'd always be a chair
And through the windows you could see my father sitting there
It's where he took his phone calls and watched his favorite shows
It's even where he ate and slept when he felt the need to doze
The chair became an icon, familiar to our eyes
To see him there at any time was never a surprise
Then one day when I came home I found he wasn't there
Never again would I come back to find him in his chair
They said that he'd gone quietly, his face was smooth with peace
But even words of comfort couldn't put my heart at ease.
When they carried him away I thought my heart would break
Nothing I could say or do would dull the painful ache.
I went to sit down in his chair, I reclined and closed my eyes
I could still smell the scent of him, it only made me cry.
People came to pay respects and share their memories
They came with food and flowers, it was like it never ceased.
The funeral was lovely, I said my final words
And from wherever he had gone I hoped that he had heard.
Heard how much we loved him, heard how much we cared
And how our lives would never be the same without him there.
We went through his belongings and separated out his stuff
Some went to the mission and the rest belonged to us
I took the things I wanted and put them in a box
From college papers that he'd written to his favorite pair of socks.
Anything to remember him was tucked safely away
As I stood in the empty closet there was nothing left to say
But then there was! I later found my mother standing there
Tears were streaming down her face as she looked at the chair
"This was his recliner, It brings back many memories,
I don't think that I could bear to keep it here with me.
Maybe you should take it, I don't know what else to do.
This chair may bring some comfort, less for me than you."
And so I took his chair and put it in his pickup truck
I drove the distance to my house and got it all set up.
I put it in the same room where I kept his burned remains
Thinking he'd enjoy it when we watched the football games.
He visits when I'm sleeping, in my dreams I see him there
No matter what you'll find him always sitting in that chair.
I'm very glad to have it and the comfort that I find,
When I lay back in his chair, gives me peace of mind.
Though his ashes have been stored in their final resting place
In my heart and mind are where i'll always see his face.
Now and then I'll feel his presence like he's standing there
It lets me know he's keeping watch over us with care.
So even when the road is long and filled with dark despair
There's always comfort to be found in my fathers chair.