About those empty seats at Christmas …

Some years, families are blessed to initiate festive new Christmas traditions.

Other years, the new tradition is a solemn acquiescence to “the new normal.”

The Tyrees fall into the latter category this year.

That’s because my mother passed away exactly two months before Christmas, having shared her wit and wisdom with the world for 97-and-a-half years. (Nonagenarians and little kids get to count the half.)

Although Mom took a perverse pride in finding kindred spirits who didn’t quite “get” my sense of humor, she generally tried her best to make me feel special.

Alas, in one sense, I’m not so special: I’m just like the millions of other people facing a newly empty seat (at the dinner table, around the hearth, at the company holiday party) in this season of merriment.

Whether it’s because of death, estrangement, relocation or military service, many of us are not able to share the season with all our loved ones.

Sooner or later, all of us are represented by an empty seat. But my heartfelt wish is that you, dear reader, will not be the missing person for a long, long time.

Longevity does not come about by accident, however. Stop texting while driving. Don’t treat your body’s warning signs like the often-dismissed “check engine soon” indicator. Cooperate with the police. Treat “what could possibly go wrong?” as more than a rhetorical question.

As far as estrangement goes, if you can swallow great-aunt Gertrude’s mystery-veggie casserole, you can swallow your pride. Put the metaphorical matches on the top shelf so it’s harder to burn bridges behind you. Listen to Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World” again and realize there’s more to life than politics.

However many months, years or decades you have left, live every day in a way that will make your inevitable empty chair a trigger for saying, “I miss them” rather than “It’s about time!”

Most importantly, don’t be the sort of person who can be spoken of only in the past tense.

Well-worn family/co-worker anecdotes are priceless. But if you’re separated by distance, display the qualities that will help everyone trust that your education or career will bring you many new milestones and adventures.

Whenever you do shuffle off this mortal coil, don’t let your present and future be the elephant in the room that everyone tiptoes around.

Let your friends and loved ones be confident that you are indeed “in a better place.”

Make sure they know that there is no “No room at the inn” sign on that better place.

There is still time to embrace the Good News delivered by that baby in the manger.

Live in a way that even the most skeptical will be inspired to seek Him.

I take solace in the fact that my mother was baptized (in the creek) at age 20 and was still driving herself to church at 90 (and still getting to church an hour early when someone else took over driving).

I’m relieved that I don’t have to rationalize, “She’s not really dead as long as she lives in the hearts of those who loved her, although once her youngest grandchild kicks off…”

Seize the opportunity to learn more about God’s plan for you, or to rekindle spiritual fervor that had faded away.

The Tyrees plan a muted but merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you.

Let Earth receive her King.