The last customer in my father’s shop asked if he could sit in his chair

Dear Delyara, We closed my father’s electrical shop today after forty-four years. Dad died in May, and none of us can keep it running. Most customers had already heard. Near closing time, an old man came in holding a broken table lamp. I explained there were no repairs anymore. He said he knew. He had not come for the lamp. He asked whether he could sit in Dad’s chair for five minutes. I recognized him eventually. He and Dad used to argue about football every Thursday. The chair is a cheap metal one with a cracked vinyl seat. I offered him coffee. He refused. He just sat there, lamp in his lap, looking at the counter. Then he said, “Your father fixed this lamp for my wife when we got married. She died last year. I thought maybe he could fix it again.” I did not know what to say. Both people he wanted were gone, and somehow the broken lamp had become the only one still available for conversation. He left it with me even though I told him I cannot repair anything. Tonight, the lamp is in my apartment. I watched three repair videos online before realizing I was trying to learn my father’s entire trade in one evening for a stranger who simply wanted one more object to continue working after too many people had stopped.