A little Ray of Sunshine left my life today. Trite, I know. Yet oh so true. I learned from his daughter that he transitioned last night. How glad I am that I got to play harp music (via Providence Hospice) for him one more time on Monday afternoon. Here’s Ray when he was younger. 🙂
(Photo and permission to use given by daughter)
I’ve played for over 50 individual hospice patients so far this year, some several different sessions. I played for Ray seventeen times since I first started with him in February of this year. I rarely have an opportunity to become attached to my hospice harp patients because I might only see them once, or maybe several times and they’ve not been communicative.
From the very first, Ray was a delight: “What’s THIS???” as I uncovered my white harp. The first notes sounded and he would exclaim almost every time, “OH! … OH! … OH!” as if in ecstasy from the sounds penetrating his slight form. At 94, he wasn’t much for lengthy conversations, but he was sure an appreciative listener. Often, I would lull him to sleep, which for me is always such a compliment.
Once, back in March, I’d put him to sleep and was super quietly packing up. Suddenly, I was startled to hear, “WHERE’S THE MUSIC???” He almost seemed to be hollering.
I responded that I had to go. “Shall I come back next week?”
“You can come back EVERY day!” Ahhhh, now that’s a heart-melter for someone doing what I do…. so many times, my clients are asleep – perhaps never knowing I’ve been there, or dementia has consumed their conscious awareness. Ray just loved to listen and sleep.
Even last week, when I played for him for the sixteenth time, he’d been more awake more consistently than usual and when I was getting ready to go he asked if I had to leave and I told him it was time. “Shall I come back?”
“YES!!! WHEEEEN?”
“I can come back next week if you’d like.”
“YEEEES! You’ll come back???” He almost seemed to need me to promise I’d be back.
“Alright, I’ll see you next week.” I sensed he was fading, but didn’t know it was SO imminent until his daughter called me on the weekend and asked if I could come soon…
He was one of the two people dear to me whom I’ve lost this week who always called me “Sweetheart.” Both dear people meant it… that was what made the sound of their saying it so extra special.
Honestly, I worry a bit about how hard this is going to be on his doting and loving caregivers. They were absolutely amazing with him and he adored them, it was obvious to me. Ali always called him “Handsome” and he responded with all sorts of loving statements to her. Often, their humorous repartee would give me a giggle or a smile. Leo always called him “General” and he called Leo “Chief” – because Leo actually IS a Chief from his Samoan tribe and Ray was a Corporal during WWII, doing combat in North Africa for over a year. The respect these two strong men expressed to each other was touching.
How blessed I was to play for this wonderful man in this loving adult foster care home here in Southern Oregon. Now I’m going to go wipe away more tears.