Lonely Is a Velvet Chair
Years later after she passed away, the chair ended up in my grandparent's garage once again draped with a sheet. I came across it searching for old photos of my family. I had spent many nights there at my grandparent's and other friend's houses throughout that difficult time.
Looking back now, I realize it was simply my Dad's way of protecting me from the emptiness that so filled our home. I suppose he did not understand that loneliness is not merely solidarity, for I learned then, that it is also magnified by being kept apart from where you are meant to be.