I worked on the hospice unit today at work. I've worked there several times before and have gotten to know some of the patients. One of my favorite patients ever (I know that's not supposed to ever come out of a nurse's mouth, but I'm just being honest here) is a sweet old man with parkinsons disease. The first time I met him was when he needed some help putting on his sweatshirt. While I carefully lifted his frail arms into the arm holes he talked about his love of music. He spoke in a way that made me really understand how much he loved it. I mean, this guy loves his music. He told me about how he used to be a handsome young singer in a band and wanted to show me pictures but I didn't have the time to look.

He was disappointed but understood. I went back during my lunch break and he lit up, showed me countless pictures of the younger him.

He was handsome.

As we flipped through I learned about him, his lovely wife, and their cute babies. After my lunch break was over and I had to get back to work he went out and serenaded some of the other patients in the dining area.

That sweet man.

Today when I got my assignment I was so excited to see him. After taking report I went and knocked on his door.

All I could hear was music coming from the small radio propped up by his bed.

I walked in slowly and saw him staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Hey, stranger!" I said.

He looked and me and tried to speak but nothing came out. He moved his lips and strained his neck.

Nothing.

My heart broke.

Just 3 weeks ago this man was singing loudly in the dining room and now he cant speak.

I tried to ask him yes or no questions, but I think he was too confused to understand.

I saw one of the pictures he had shown me just weeks before. I picked it up and said "look at that handsome man and his pretty lady!"

He stared at it and closed his eyes.

I turned his music up a little, patted him on the shoulder and left the room

hoping he was dreaming of better days.