Always Say Hello!

A while ago the radio journalist Eve Mantu made a programme (in which I was involved) about why Finns sometimes find it hard to start talking to each other.  There was a lot of feedback to that programme, and I have said several times since that it is always worth saying hello to people, as you never know where a chance meeting might lead.  This evening I came across another very good example of this.

My father has now moved to live in a care home as he can no longer manage at home - and of course I am visiting as often as I can while I still have the chance. These last days together have been very valuable ones - I treasure them now already - but will treasure the memories even more in the future when he is no longer here.

We have talked about many things together.  He feels sad that I am on my own again, and this evening he said he hoped that one day I would find someone to look after both me and the children. Someone who would stick around for all of us.  In the spirit of being optimistic we wrote a list of the qualities that such a person should have. It was a very nice list, and we both agreed that if I find someone like that then he will be a special man indeed!

Anyway, it was pouring with rain outside, as it has been for the last few days here. I left my Dad to go to sleep, and just as I was about to go to the car I saw another elderly gentleman leaving the care home.  He was walking very, very slowly in the rain.  I said hello and asked if he needed a lift in my car to get home.

As it turned out, he was driving himself, so he didn't need a lift, but we stood for ten minutes in the rain and had a chat anyway. His name was Les, and he was eighty-six years old. He told me that he was just going home after visiting his wife. She has been in the care home for three and a half years, and Les has visited her every single day.

"People tell me I don't need to come every day," he said, "but I try and imagine what it would be like if I were living in there - and I know that she waits for me to visit. So I come. Every day."

Les lives alone now. He walks extremely slowly and with great difficulty.  He can't hear too well -and from what he told me, his life has been far from easy in a number of ways. But despite all of that, he is there, every day, to see his wife. Just to make her happy. Proof once again that love and dedication actually do exist. And I would never have known any of that had I not said hello to a complete stranger. Thank you Les for your story, and for once again giving hope to both me and my father that better days lie ahead!