by Michael B. Wright
Christmas decorations have been filling store shelves for more than two months now, which is an early sign that the two-edged time of the year is fast approaching; a time filled with both eagerness and dread simultaneously. An alleged spiritual holiday on the one hand, yet on the other hand, the epitome of commerciality, fomenting rudeness, pushing and shoving at shopping malls, all incited by bargains, special sales, and guilt. The inevitable maxing-out of credit cards followed by the eleven-month attempt at restoration and re-establishment of an available balance. And so begins a new cycle at IKEA.
Sadly, for some families, it’s a time of dread, because of loved ones who died on or near December 25. Whether from illness, fatal accidents, murder, or old age (so-called “natural causes”), the lives of surviving family members and friends will never be the same.
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Finally, there are those who are spoken of in hushed tones. A group of individuals who help keep the F.B.I. and the Missing Persons Bureau busy. These are the hundreds of thousands of beloved family members who unwittingly became members of “The Lost Tribe,” the ones who entered IKEA and never came out. There are those who claim that these individuals may have been processed into Swedish meatballs and thus may have become TV stars if they were featured on Andrew Zimmern’s show “Bizarre Foods.”
(In actuality, the IKEA building designs are not of Swedish origin, but were created by Dutch artist M.C. Escher.)
Soon, as families throughout America indulge in their annual Christmas feast, a good number of them will be preparing empty place settings as a tribute to those who once sat there. The air will be filled with stories and memories shared over the years. There will be laughter, there will be tears, and there will be embarrassment as secrets are revealed and conversations will be punctuated with “remember when?” and “did I ever tell you?”
And after the last cups of coffee, glasses of mulled wine, eggnog, and forksful of figgy pudding have been served, the assembled family members will often break up into car groups and make one of their periodic visits to gravesites, marked by tombstones with “some assembly required” stamped on them. And so it goes.
If you have lost a family member to IKEA, you are not alone, Mike feels your pain. Feel free to share your grief with him at micwrighthamo@gmail.com.
