Bringing Sunshine

I paused at the door to this darkened room, and the patient inside seemed to be unresponsive.  The patient’s daughter was sitting at his bedside, and she smiled at me as I played in the doorway.  She watched her father carefully, and whispered a quiet, “Thank you,” to me.  I played through “You Are My Sunshine” several times, and the patient’s daughter quietly cried as she listened.  She reached under the sheets and took her father’s hand, and she held his hand as I played several other familiar tunes.  After a bit, she got up and came to the door.  She explained to me that her father had been diagnosed with an end stage disease in December, and that she was afraid that this was the end for him.  She told me she was very grateful for the song and for my presence.  She told me that her parents had been married for seventy years, and that “You Are My Sunshine” had been her father’s favorite song.  She had many wonderful memories of watching her father sing to her mother, and she was very grateful I had given her one more memory of those years.

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