The greatest generation among us

Mr. N. was a character. From the moment the referral nurses talked about him, they weren't really sure if he'd even make it to the Hotel. He was old. He was sick. He was unconscious. He was deaf as a post without his hearing aids. He was as we say, "day to day."

He lived and for a while, Mr. N. inhabited a bright sunny room, where he had a good view of the construction going on nearby. Once he got his hearing aids, he talked. He was very opinionated, having worked for one utility, he had a pretty good idea what was going on outside his window.

In a way, Mr. N. reminded me of my father. He had the same ethnic look and the same blue eyes. He also had a gravelly voice of a man who smoked a few Chesterfields in his day. We talked about a number of things once we connected. I could always ask if it was really true what the guys said about his battle (the "no purple hearts" part).

Mr. N. even introduced me to his children. I got to meet all of them, including the bossy daughter ("she runs everything" he said). They were nice. They were amazed that their dad did as well as he did.

One day, Mr. N. came to see me, looking for change to get a soda. I didn't have any so I checked his chart.I realized he was not diabetic, so I offered him the soda Bubba made me take to work, in case I got snowed in.

His eyes brightened when he saw it. "Ooh!" he said. "The good stuff. Sierra Mist." He thanked me and rolled away down the hall for a cup of ice.

Mr. N. came by to see me when it was time to discharge. He said, "I hope to see you again. Thanks for everything." and winked. He left the next day to go to the nursing home.

We were told the other day that Mr. N's "bossy" daughter called. He had passed away in his sleep that day. His weak heart finally gave out. This week, with more than 500 others each day, he joined history. 

And I am thankful I have one more story about World War II to cherish, told by a man who made history in the Battle of the Bulge.