He never imagined ending his days in a retirement home: only at the twilight of life does one truly see how well one raised his children.
Louis Morel stared out of the window of his new residencea nursing home in the small Breton town of Quimperand could hardly accept that fate had led him here. Light snow fell in gentle flakes, covering the streets with a white veil while a cold emptiness settled in his heart. As a father of three, he had never pictured a lonely old age behind unfamiliar walls. Once his life was bright: a cozy downtown house, a loving wife, Élodie, three beautiful children, laughter and comfort. He had worked as an engineer in a factory, owned a car, a spacious flat, and, above all, a family he was proud of. Now all of that seemed a distant dream.
Louis and Élodie had raised a son, Théo, and two daughters, Camille and Léa. Their home overflowed with warmth, drawing neighbors, friends and colleagues. They gave their children everythingeducation, affection, faith in kindness. Yet ten years ago Élodie passed away, leaving Louis with a wound that never healed. He had hoped his children would become his support, but time proved him wrong.
As the years went by, Louis became superfluous in his children’s eyes. Théo, the eldest, moved to Spain a decade ago. There he married, started a family and became a renowned architect. Once a year he sent a letter, sometimes visited, but recent calls grew scarce. Work, Dad, you understand, he would say, and Louis nodded, hiding his sorrow.
His daughters lived not far away, also in Quimper, but their lives were swallowed by daily whirlwinds. Camille had a husband and two kids; Léa was absorbed by her career and obligations. They phoned about once a month, dropped by occasionally, always rushed: Sorry, Dad, were swamped. Louis watched pedestrians returning home with fir trees and presents on December23. Tomorrow was Christmasand his birthday, the first he would spend alone, without greetings or tender words. Im no longer anyone, he whispered, closing his eyes.
He remembered Élodie decorating the house for the holidays, the childrens giggles as they tore open gifts. The home had once thrummed with life; now silence weighed heavy, and melancholy tightened his chest. Where did I go wrong? Élodie and I gave them everything, and now Im here like a forgotten suitcase, he thought.
At dawn the nursing home stirred. Children and grandchildren arrived to visit elders, bearing sweets and laughter. Louis, seated in his room, stared at an old family photograph. Suddenly there was a knock at the door. He startled. Come in! he called, incredulous.
Merry Christmas, Dad! Happy birthday! a voice cried, bringing tears to his eyes.
Standing on the threshold was Théotall, with a touch of gray at his temples, yet still sporting the same childlike smile. He rushed to his father and embraced him. Louis could hardly believe his eyes; tears streamed and words caught in his throat.
Théo is it really you? he whispered, fearing a hallucination.
Of course, Dad! I arrived yesterday to surprise you, his son replied, holding Louiss shoulders. Why didnt you tell me your sisters placed you here? Ive been sending money every montha good amount! They never mentioned it. I had no idea.
Louis lowered his gaze, not wanting to complain or sow discord, but Théo was firm.
Dad, pack a bag. Tonight well catch a train. Im taking you with me. Well stay at my wifes parents house first, sort out the paperwork, then head to Spain together. Well live together!
Where, son? stammered Louis. Im too old Spain?
Youre not old, Dad! My wife Lucía is wonderful; she knows everything and is waiting for you. And our daughter Sofia cant wait to meet her grandfather! Théo spoke with such confidence that Louis began to believe it.
Théo I cant this is too much, the old man murmured, wiping his tears.
Enough, Dad. You dont deserve this lonely old age. Get ready, lets go home.
Other residents whispered, What a son Morel has! What a man! Théo helped his father gather his few belongings, and that very evening they departed. In Spain, Louis began a new chapter. Surrounded by loving people under a benevolent sun, he once again felt useful.
It is said that only in old age does one truly know whether one raised children well. Louis realized his son had become the man he had always hoped for, and that was the greatest gift of his life.
