The waves slowly inched ever closer to the empty canvas chair. The guitar leaned seemingly forgotten against the chair’s arm, almost as an afterthought. You could almost see him walking down the beach coming to sit for a while and play his songs. We would sit with him through the night listening until the morning sunrise painted the sea with a collage of colors, then he would walk away into the morning mist.
Today his chair sits empty and the guitar silent. The songs he sang may live on for generations and always remind us of the sea and the sand. For a while we all came to sit by the shore with his empty chair, singing his songs, and hoping he would come back. We longed for his laughter and the stories he would tell us about his songs.
There will come a time when we would gather no more by the sea, and we will fade away one by one. We can no longer bear the empty chair, and no one will play his guitar. It is not so much the songs we will miss but the joy he gave us, the music, and the words that brought us both tears and laughter.
Perhaps one day someone will play a sad song to say goodbye, a single last chord that will fade to silence, yet light the night sky with stars that twinkle a bit brighter.
