Tom and his fading sight / a story

An old man with white beard and sadness writ large all over the remaiining space of his face, sunken small eyes semi closed , hunched over his table, feverishly searching the papers scattered over his table and all over the room.
Many papers are letters either written by him or written to him, the swirling fan spreading further all the papers all over place as though all the pages torn from his daily life and years of his past life. Every paper has a meaning and mood and scene of his individual days. Sometimes these papers are like mirror reflecting his entire life as a painting in a single canvass. His face seems to suggest so. But still he is searching the papers as if trying to find out some thing more important than all the papers around him.
Still he is searching, sitting in his old wooden chair with handles to rest his hands, another chair next to him vacant.
'Tom ' a voice called.
Tom has not heard the voice or rather seemed not heard the voice.So concentrated he was in his papers.
' Tom ' again the voice called him.
' Tom , what happened to you ? what are you searching for?'
" Oh, nothing , nothing I am fine" Tom said.
' What are you searching ? his friend Susan asked, his only friend over decades.
" oh, sorry I am searching you , last night i lost you , so searching from last night to find you " Tom said.
" But Tom I am here in front of you . " I sat next to him in the vacant chair.
I could make out what did he mean when he said since last night he lost me. He has been suffering from progressive deterioration of his eye sight.
He knew many years before one day finally he might not be able to see.
I stood up held his hands and said ' I am here Tom"
I took his head in my bosom and held his head between my hands.
When i sat down i could see the eyes with out sight but filed with full tears.
In the tears I could see my face reflecting completely.