Author: Lila Bennett

Date: April 27, 2025

It’s strange when you stop to really think about it. There’s a man living in the house I grew up in now. A man I barely even know. He sleeps in the bed where my dad once slept. He sits at the kitchen table where my dad once had his morning coffee. He smiles at my mum the way my dad used to, holds her hand the way he once did.

He’s filling all the spaces my dad left behind, and yet somehow, none of them actually feel filled. It’s like watching a familiar play but with all the actors replaced — the lines are the same, the sets are the same, but something vital is missing.

I’m not angry at my mum, and I’m not even angry at him. People move on; life demands it. But it’s a heavy thing to sit with, knowing that someone else now carries the title my dad once wore so naturally. He’s everything my dad used to be… but also, in a way I can’t explain, he’s nothing like him at all.

Maybe that’s just the way grief works. It makes you see the empty chairs long after someone new has taken the seat.