Daniel’s Chair
Chapter 09 - Daniel’s Chair
Daniel’s chair at the kitchen table became the enemy.
It sat where it always had, back to the window, one leg slightly uneven because Daniel kept promising to fix it and then tightening the wrong screw. On normal mornings, Anna would have moved around it without thought. The morning after the notification, she stood in front of it for ten minutes holding a bowl of cereal.
Noah came in rubbing his eyes.
“Why are you looking at Daddy’s chair?”
Anna placed the bowl down too hard. Milk splashed over the rim.
“I don’t know.”
Noah climbed into his own chair. Then looked at Daniel’s.
“Can the flag sit there?”
Anna almost said no.
Then stopped.
Maybe grief needed somewhere to sit. Maybe children knew more about symbols than adults who tried to manage them.
She brought the folded flag from the dining room and placed it gently on Daniel’s chair.
Noah nodded as if that made sense.
Breakfast continued badly but honestly.
Cereal went soggy. Anna forgot coffee until it burned. Noah asked if soldiers ate pancakes in heaven. Anna said she hoped so. Noah asked if Daddy could see them. Anna said she did not know, then added, “But if love can look, he is looking.”
Noah accepted that.
After breakfast, Anna called Major Miller.
She did not know why.
He answered immediately.
“Mrs. Whitmore?”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t know who else to ask. What do I do with the flag?”
Miller was quiet for a moment.
“There is no wrong way to honor him in your own home.”
That sentence gave Anna the first full breath since the door opened.
The flag remained in Daniel’s chair until evening.
Not replacing him.
May you like
Not enough.
But present.
