From a grief‑psychology perspective, Mr. Dalen’s request for those specific plastic chairs with holes is a perfect example of a “continuing bond” — a concept in bereavement theory where people maintain an ongoing connection with a loved one through memories, rituals, or objects. The holes in the chairs weren’t just functional; they allowed rain to pass through, recreating a sensory experience that echoed his time with his late wife. That rain-through-chair ritual became a kind of living memorial.

Psychologically, objects like those chairs can serve as memory anchors — tangible reminders that hold emotional weight and help people reconnect with the past. For Mr. Dalen, the right chair triggered not just a memory, but a deeply felt moment: listening to rain with Nadine. The simple gesture of rain hitting the chair carried the intimacy of their shared ritual.

There’s also a long-standing human tradition of keeping seemingly mundane objects to remember someone who’s gone, even across cultures and history. Even in Iron Age societies, people retained everyday items not for their utility, but because they emotionally tied them to those who had died. In grief work, these “linking objects” can be powerful. Psychoanalytic theorist Vamık Volkan described linking objects as things that keep us tethered to someone after they’re gone.

In material‑culture studies, items left behind by a deceased person are not just possessions — they are containers of meaning. Research shows that these objects help people share, remember, and hold on to the essence of relationships. Even when those objects are ordinary, they can become deeply symbolic and emotionally charged.

For Mr. Dalen’s neighbor, the narrator’s effort to find the exact chair became more than a kind deed — it was an act of empathy and connection. By fulfilling the request, they helped restore a bridge to Mr. Dalen’s past and allowed him to feel his grief and love in a physical, living way.