The nursing home had a piano. An instrument last tuned sometime during the Cold War.
Staffers wheeled residents into a semi-circle. Nurses faced the piano toward an audience of chairs, roller walkers, and oxygen canisters.
A middle-aged guy sat at the piano. The middle-aged guy plays by ear. He can’t read music because as a kid he was too obsessed with girls to practice “Hot Cross Buns” under the weight of Mrs. Downing’s glaringly sinister eyes.
“Any requests?” he said.
The elderly people did not move. Nobody spoke. They stared into abysmal nothingness.
“HELP!” shouted one elderly woman, for no reason at all.
One of the nurses said, “They really like the hymns.”
Piano Guy has been playing in church since boyhood. He knows hymns. When the first melodic phrase of “Old Rugged Cross” began, the room erupted to life.
Surprisingly, the voices were not old. Neither were they dry and crackly. They were young. And strong. They knew every word.
The next tune was “Victory in Jesus.” The room sounded like it was going to come apart at the joists. They knew every stanza.
A few of the ladies were even clapping in rhythm.
“Those ladies are Pentecostals,” explained one elderly woman, using the same tone you might use to describe someone as an “Amway salesperson.”
The next hymns were “Because He Lives,” “Will the Circle Be Unbroken?” “Leaning On The Everlasting Arms,” and “How Great Thou Art.”
When they sang “I’ll Fly Away,” the entire room sounded like it might just do that.
One man sat slumped in his chair. But his voice was so robust, so pure, the pianist could feel his dental fillings vibrating.
“That man was a Church of Christ songleader,” explained an elderly woman. “We call him ‘The Singer.’ Whenever you walk past his room, you hear him singing.”
The concert ended at 4:30 p.m., because it was suppertime. Chairs wheeled away. Residents tottered to the dining room.
A little elderly woman shuffled toward a nurse and said, “You remind me of my daughter. Do you know where she is? Are you my daughter?”
“No, ma’am,” the nurse replied.
“My daughter is supposed to visit me, but I think she keeps forgetting.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am.”
“She gets so busy. She’s got a very busy life. Are you sure you aren’t my daughter?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
Then, the old woman hugged the nurse. Without warning. Her bony arms looked so frail. She closed her eyes and cried.
“Oh, I love you, Charlotte,” said the woman. “God, I love you so much, sweetie.”
And even though the nurse’s name is not Charlotte, the young woman hugged the old woman tightly and said, “I love you, too, Mama.”