There had been a gap of three years since the last time Walter had spoken with his daughter, Lydia.

It had been three long years, and each day had stretched out like an infinite length of rope, stretching tight under the weight of something that had not been acknowledged. The quiet that existed between them was not just the lack of words; rather, it was a persistent aching in his chest, the type of pain that never completely subsided.

That disagreement occurred three years ago. The last time they said farewell was three years ago, and at the time, it didn’t even seem like they were saying goodbye.

Walter was not much of a city dweller in his younger years. He had lived his whole childhood in little towns, the sort of communities that only had one grocery store, where neighbors waved from their porches and gossip flew quicker than the wind. Helen, his late wife, had been the people-person in the family. The rural peace and quiet that they had created out together in their tiny home, with its walls covered in ivy and a garden that smelt like lavender in the summer, was something that she found really appealing.

With Helen’s passing, everything underwent a transformation.

It was a chilly morning in the winter when she passed away, the sickness finally taking possession of the body that he had seen deteriorating over the course of many months. Walter had remained by her side until the very last moment, holding her hand and assuring her, in a voice that was barely holding together, that he would always look after their daughter. He had been there until the very end.

When Walter first met Lydia, she was only six years old. She was little and fragile, with eyes that were too large for her face, but she had a spark that told him she would develop into an outstanding person. Despite the fact that the death of Helen had left a void in both of their lives, Walter had devoted his whole soul to the role of family provider.

It was for school that he learnt how to braid her hair. At each and every school play, he was seated in the first row. As she struggled to sleep due to nightmares, he remained up all night to bandage her bruised knees and stayed up throughout the night. He would never be able to protect her from all the pain that life has to offer, but he would be damned if she ever had to face it on her own.

Lydia developed into all he had hoped she would be over the course of the years: intelligent, caring, and passionately devoted. Even when she began making decisions that distanced her from the small-town life that they had experienced together, Walter continued to be proud of her.

Next, when she was twenty-two years old, she took Jason back to her house.

Initially, Walter had the impression that Jason was a kind human being. Courteous. Respectful. Having lofty goals. Walter placed a higher priority on the fact that he treated Lydia with kindness than he did anything else. Still, a question that persisted in the recesses of his mind was a source of unease: would his daughter still want his assistance now that she was in a relationship with someone else?

He discovered that the answer was yes… at least for a period of time.

After Lydia and Jason announced their engagement, they extended an invitation to Walter to move in with them in the nation’s capital. Although Walter had no desire to leave his cottage, the prospect of being in closer proximity to his daughter was sufficient to convince him to give it some thought. There is a possibility that he may be a part of the new chapter that she was beginning.

Everything went swimmingly at first. However, as the months went by, Jason’s once-perfect manners started to become less polished. It was not uncommon for him to make scathing comments about Walter’s “outdated” behaviors. He would bemoan the fact that Walter could not comprehend the culture of the city. Lydia did not speak much since she always made an effort to maintain the peace, but Walter was able to see the change. In their home, he no longer had the sense of belonging to a family. In his mind, he was a visitor.

The proposal from Jason then arrived.

It’s not a marriage proposal; it’s just a notion.

While we were having supper together one evening, Jason suggested that we sell your home. Use the money to purchase a larger apartment in the city where you now reside. Together, we would have more room and greater comfort if we lived together. It’s a win-win situation.”

Initially, it seemed to be a sensible proposition. The mortgage on Walter’s home had been paid off, and it was now worth a respectable amount. It would be more convenient for him, he would have better access to Lydia, and he could even have a few advantages in the metropolis. One condition, however, was imposed by Walter before he would comply.

He said in a straightforward manner, “The apartment would have to be in my name.”

Against his plate, Jason’s fork made a clinking sound.

Why is that? Do you not have faith in us?

When Walter shook his head, he maintained a calm yet forceful tone in his voice.

The issue is not one of trust. The issue is one of safety. If anything occurs, whether it be a move between the two of you or a change in life, I need to know that I won’t be left without a place to call home.

There was a leak in Jason’s courteous mask. His tone became more acerbic.

“Walter, you are a greedy person. Lacking in trust. If this is how you want to repay us after all that we have done for you, then.

Walter made an effort to convey that the issue was not about making payback; rather, it was about avoiding putting all he had achieved at danger. However, Jason became enraged already.

Lydia, on the other hand, said nothing. Although her eyes flew back and forth between them, she never once defended him verbally.

The talk came to a disastrous finish. Lydia and Jason packed their belongings and were on their way to the metropolis within a week. Even though they promised Walter that they would “figure it out later,” he was aware of what that phrase signified.

A cloud of lonely days hung over the subsequent months. Walter would sometimes peek at the phone, anxiously awaiting a call from her. He sent a handful of SMS and left a few notes for me to read. Neither of them returned. A persistent, heavy, and stifling noise was created by the quiet, which became its own form of cacophony.

Next, he celebrated his sixty-first birthday.

Walter had never been one to celebrate in a large way, but this year he experienced something that he hadn’t felt in a long time for the first time: a glimmer of optimism. Perhaps Lydia will take advantage of the opportunity to make contact. This may be a surprise for him.

On that particular morning, he prepared her favorite meals, which included garlic mashed potatoes, roast chicken with thyme, and the chocolate cake that they used to make together on Sundays. He sat down at the table, gave the home a thorough cleaning, and then put on his nicest clothing.

With each sound that came from the outside, he sat up taller, believing that this was the end.

But the day continued to drag on. The meal became ice cold. As the sun descended below the horizon, the only noises that could be heard were the quiet hum of the refrigerator and the creak of the house as it descended gradually.

After he had finally put away the food and changed out of his shirt, the stillness seemed to be more audible than it had ever been before. In the evening, when he was laying in bed, tears began to roll down his cheeks. Although he had shed tears for Lydia in the past, he had never done so in this manner — never with the full weight of understanding how far apart they had become.

After a period of three weeks, the phone rang.

Walter was hesitant before providing a response.

“Hi there?”

A brief pause was followed by a voice that was hesitant and hushed.

Hello, Dad… Oh, it’s me!”

He was unable to breathe. It had been such a long time since he had heard her voice that it nearly didn’t seem genuine.

After that, Lydia added, “I… I wanted to call.” It’s been much too much time. In recent times, I have been giving you a lot of thought. “I long for you.”

At the same time that he swallowed the knot in his throat, Walter closed his eyes.

Just like you, love, I miss you. Since you left, I have been waiting for you to return. Watching for you to get in touch with me.”

The only sound that could be heard on the line was the sound of her breathing. There was complete quiet. After then, her voice became trembling.

I am very sorry, Dad. It seemed like I was acting in the appropriate manner, yet… For some reason, I was unaware of how deeply that wounded you. I really apologize for anything.

After a moment, he exhaled slowly. “Simply put, I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t forgotten.”

The answer is no. You have never been. Dear Dad, I adore you. Is it possible for us to… begin again?

And that is exactly what they did.

It was not a simple task. After it has been shattered, trust is not something that can be rebuilt immediately. On the other hand, they were able to find their way back by making phone calls one after the other.

The cottage that Walter had wasn’t ever sold. He preserved his little garden, the squeaky front porch, and the walls that were stuffed with all of his memories. The fact that Lydia was once again a part of his life was the only thing that really mattered, not the flat in the city.

It was not without flaws. Not at any point in time. But that was plenty. Additionally, there are occasions when all that is required is enough.

When Walter was sitting in the garden with a cup of tea one evening, he looked out over the hills and thought of Helen. The sun was turning gold over the hills. He saw her taking a seat next to him, smiling with that kind, knowing grin that she had perpetually had.

In addition, Walter experienced something that he hadn’t been able to feel in a very long time for the first time in years.

Harmony.