Golden light and laughter filled the enormous ballroom. Every table had white roses and gentle music. With champagne glasses in hand, guests smiled to match the occasion.
Today was Matthew’s wedding.
He was in the middle of it all in a deep maroon suit with a twisted golden tie and excited eyes. Everything was painstakingly planned—this was his happiest day.
One guest Matthew didn’t expect or want.
An elderly man gently entered from the entryway, tapping his white cane. Long gray beard, elbow-worn jacket. He couldn’t see the magnificent décor or the shocked individuals around him through his foggy eyes.
It was his father, James.
Clinching his jaw, Matthew
“What are you doing here?” he thundered across the room.
Curious guests turned. Others became quiet.
James halted, sensing his son. “Matthew,” he began softly, “I’m sorry I came without an invitation. Just wishing you well. My gift to you…
A little velvet box was held out with quivering hands.
It was rejected by Matthew. His voice increased.
I told you not to come! You would shame me in public! See you—this isn’t your place. You’re not welcome!”
The room froze.
James stood frozen, his smile dimming. “I understand,” he whispered. I just wanted my son to be happy. I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”
Matthew raged and pointed to the door. “Leave.”
James bowed. I’m sorry.” Slowly tapping his cane, he turned toward the exit.
No one attempted to stop him.
Matthew grew up impoverished.
James, blind from a working accident, reared him alone when his mother died when he was eight. They survived in a small, creaking house on government assistance and James’s part-time radio repair work.
Though blind, James never left Matthew hungry. He cooked by touch and smell, escorted him to school by memory, and told him stories by candlelight. To get Matthew new school shoes, he wore the same coat for five winters. After Matthew received a college scholarship, James sold his final equipment to help him move into the dorm.
“I’m fine,” James said. “My biggest reward is knowing you’ll live better.”
Matthew did.
He studied well, obtained a corporate position, and advanced. He became a manager, acquired a car, and moved into a high-rise apartment, separating himself from his impoverished upbringing.
While meeting Claire, the daughter of an affluent family, he told his parents had died.
He regretted the truth.
His last visit to James was about two years ago. He occasionally gave money but never called or wrote. He excluded James from his wedding planning.
Matthew couldn’t sleep in his honeymoon suite after the wedding. Claire was in bed with her hair in a bun and makeup off.
“You okay?” she questioned.
He nodded. “Just tired.”
But he wasn’t.
The way his father handled the silk box kept coming to mind. How he quietly left without protest.
Chest constricted.
He up, went to the table, and took the box from his coat pocket. He forgot he had it. He opened it slowly.
An ancient gold watch was within.
Nothing special. An old, scratched watch.
A note.
To Matthew, my son. I can’t give you much. This watch was your grandfather’s. I stayed strong after losing my sight. I wish you strength, time, and love.”
Matthew sat in a chair, crying.
He sent Claire a note and drove three hours to his hometown the next morning.
As he remembered, the streets were quiet, cracked, and lined with little cottages. He stopped at the familiar cottage. Still standing despite flaking paint and roof sagging.
He knocked.
No reply.
He tested the handle. Cracked open.
Inside, everything was tidy. The table had the same radio. The bed was made, kettle heated. James was absent.
Panic ensued.
He phoned neighbors. Mrs. Collins, an elderly woman, stated James went for the graveyard that morning.
Matthew drove immediately.
Found him.
James sat on a bench by his wife’s gravesite. He faced his unattainable flowers.
Matthew approached slowly.
“Dad…”
James turned
“I—I’m so sorry,” Matthew choked. “I was ashamed. I wanted to fit in where you didn’t belong. I was mistaken. I forgot who I was after you gave me everything.”
Jim was quiet.
So he opened his arms.
Matthew kneeled and hugged his dad.
“I should never have turned you away,” he muttered.
James smiled through tears. “Son, it’s never too late.”
James married his son a year later.
In a garden with friends, family, and neighbors, not a ballroom. Claire stood by Matthew, heartened by his transformation. The gold watch ticked quietly in James’ pocket as he wore his new jacket from Matthew.
Love, once remembered, heals all.