"Ave Maria"

A few days ago, just before Christmas, I was in the car on my way to finish up some shopping.  The car radio was on a station that plays all Christmas music from Thanksgiving to Christmas.  I was struck by the hauntingly beautiful but almost mournful tone in which a female soloist was singing "Ave Maria." 

As I listened to these strains, I rounded a corner onto a street where there is a small private nursing home.  At the curb, an elderly gentleman was getting out of his car...slowly and with obvious discomfort.  He had a newspaper under his arm.  As I drove by, I watched him teeter around the car and head towards the nursing home entrance.

Although that was my last actual glimpse of him, a video clip began to play in my mind, accompanied by the mournfully rendered "Ave Maria."  He slowly ascended the stairs into the building and painfully walked down a corridor.  In my mind, the corridor was much longer than could have been contained in the actual building.  It was dimly lit, and I watched his silhouette become smaller as he got further away.  Then I saw him, the image of loneliness, enter a room.  In the bed was an elderly woman...his wife....who no longer recognized him.  He kissed her brow, and then sat heavily in the chair and opened the newspaper.  He would spend his day there, although his wife wouldn't appreciate it.  He had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do.

The last sad note of the "Ave" was sung and my private little mental video faded to black.
It has replayed in my mind numerous times since.