Peace of Mind

Chuck reluctantly started the drive to see his father, Owen.  He didn’t really want to go but knew he had to.  It wasn’t the long drive that bothered him.  He was not looking forward to the conversation as it was always difficult, awkward.  There was no barrier between them, but no bond either.  They were not what anyone would call close.  The divorce occurred when Chuck was quite young, and for many years he didn’t see his dad.  They never had a lot of time together.  Now, Owen was sick, gravely ill. 

Chuck and I were both new employees.  His desk was close to mine, and we worked on similar systems.  From day one I felt Chuck had an edge to him.  Not a particularly warm person, but we got along well.  Occasionally would have a drink after work.  Chuck liked to talk about current news or music, but nothing particularly personal. 

Owen was a stern old geezer.  A tough guy who scratched out life in a rugged country.  He was as harsh and unforgiving as the barren land he survived on.  Owen lived much of his life alone.  With little education and woefully inadequate income for all those years, he persevered by brute force.   Now various medical issues were threatening his very existence.  He was just worn out, and he knew it.  His nurse, wise in these matters, suggested he call Chuck and ask him to visit.  She knew it was something Owen wanted, perhaps even needed.

Chuck’s visit was short.  A couple of hours with his dad in a small antiseptic room.  It was a room void of décor.  It had plain walls, plain windows, and pictures of indeterminate landscapes. Unpretentious and as plain as Owen.  They talked briefly about little-known relatives and exchanged guesses about who lived where.   Mostly Owen asked about Chuck’s new job.  That was of particular interest to Owen.  How was it going?  Was he paid well?  Did he think he would stay there for a while?  Things were going well for Chuck, so he was able to give positive feedback to all of Owen’s questions.  Owen was clearly pleased.  It was obvious it provided definite peace of mind to know that things were going well for his son. 

The following Monday, when I saw Chuck, I asked about the trip to see his dad.  He said it was good.  He told me Owen died the day after the visit.  Chuck in an uncharacteristically soft shaky voice said, “I think he just wanted to know I was OK.  That’s all he needed”.