Sympathy for Henry

Henry (not his real name) was in the branch today. Not surprising since Henry is in pretty much every day. For those of you who don't know, I work at a bank. I can't tell you which bank, cause they could fire me if I did. So I won't. But it DOESN'T rhyme with "Mith Word" or "Puntington". That's all you get.  

So far, I have worked at 4 different branches spanning a little over 4 years.  That's about a branch a year for you non-mathmatical types. I'm a banker, so of course I am a pro at such things. 

Every branch has a few "Henry's". These are people who frequent the branch more than any human ever should, unless of course you work there. Or, you are desperately bored or lonely. I would be willing to wager that over 75% of the "Henry's" out there are elderly. Henry fits the bill. 

He is an older gentleman who can barely walk. He walks so     very        slowly. 

Actually, walking isn't the best term for what Henry does, in reality, he shuffles. If Henry had to try and outrun a glacier, he would be in real trouble. 

I was warned about Henry the first week I was in my current branch. I was told that he would be more than willing to take up all the time I was willing to give him, and more if I would let him. That's probably why I was a bit curt with him the first few times I had to sit down with him. I made it clear when our coversation came to an end, as politely as I could. For instance "Henry, please leave. If you talk to me any longer I may become suicidal, and I have kids to support. In fact, as long as you have ben talking to me, I fear I may have missed their graduation and entire school years."

You know, sensitive stuff. Tactful. As I always am.

Henry learned that he wouldn't be stealing any of my time. You have to set expectations early with his type.

Until today.

I must admit that I do have a soft spot for elderly people.

Henry came shuffling in today and my mind went to where it normally does when I see him. "Dude! What is he doing here again!? We aren't even feeding him anymore!"

Uh, ok- so Henry kinda eluded that aforementioned soft spot.

As Henry was walking in the branch, er shuffling, I prayed that the phone would ring, or another customer whould come in ahead of him, or a glacier would catch him and freeze him in place. "Sorry Henry, I would love to help you, but you know, natural selection and all..."

So, I went to the bathroom, took my hour lunch, made a few phone calls and came back to my desk. By this time Henry was halfway across the lobby. Actually he was moving pretty quickly today. Alas, no glaciers appeared while I was gone. Damn you global warming!!

I noticed the other bankers were busy and realized I would have to take one for the team. Henry finished his arduous journey over to my cubicle.

"Are you busy Dave?"

Nope. C'mon in Henry. I can already feel my will to live slipping away...

"No, what do you need?"

I don't remember now what Henry wanted. Nothing of any real consequence I am sure. It is no secret that he comes to the bank because he just needs something to do. We weren't very busy, so I didn't really mind sitting with Henry today. We got to chatting a little bit, like I do with all my customers. In the course of our conversation I happened to mention something about his wife. 

"Oh, Arleen passed away" 

I'm sorry to hear that. When was that? 

"April 28, 2007"

It was the quickness of his reply that caught my attention. 

Suddenly this wasn't just a chatty old man sitting in front of me. It was a person. A person who had suffered a terrible, life-changing, heart rending loss. 

This was a date that he will never forget. The loss of his love. His wife. His companion. 

So many things flashed through my mind and emotions in that moment. The look on his face, the tone of his voice, the way his eyes were slightly downcast, not quite willing or able to meet mine in that moment. As he had a brief flashback to that defining memory. Another twinge of pain to a wound that hasn't come close to healing, a private moment that I was not welcome to enter. 

Does he keep the pain alive because it is his way of remembering her?

Is it more real to him now than the memory of her?

Did she tease him about how much he loved to talk? 

The loss he was feeling was palpable to me. It was so brief, such a short moment really...but it woke me up like cold water in the face. 

Henry left shortly afterwards. I don't know how long he stayed. It didn't matter. I saw Henry in a brand new light. When he mentioned the date, compassion flooded me. 

What must it be like to lose someone like that? 

Imagine living with and loving somebody for decades. 

Imagine watching them weaken and start to slip. 

Hear the words "I'm sorry sir, your wife only has a short time left."

Was he next to her when she passed? Was he holding her hand? Did he see the light in her eyes fade? The sparkle that initally made him fall for her, that first caught his eye?

What must it be like to wake up, reach for the person that has always been there, and have your hand touch the empty space?

Dear God, what must the gravity of that loss feel like? Someone who was an extension of who you are...

Gone. 

All those quirky, sometimes annoying traits that you would now give anything to hear or see. 

To come home to an empty house. To not hear that voice that you knew oh, so well. 

All it took was him saying the date. A little too quickly. Still so fresh in his mind. Never to be forgotten. 

Don't worry Henry, if the glacier comes, I'll help you run.