We transferred my father from Albany Medical Center to a local hospital where he could take dialysis and be closer to us for daily visits. This is where my ritual of playing and singing for him began.
Sometimes patients pushing walkers or sitting in wheelchairs accumulated outside his room and stayed there as long as there was music. Other patients and visitors poked their heads in his room as my music escaped into the halls of the hospital.
"Can you stop in next door?" a visitor said. "My mother could really use some music."
"I wish all our patients could hear this," the nurses often said.
I began to think there was really something more. I was not just a daughter singing her father's favorite songs.
Can you still hear a particular family member singing a favorite song?
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