Short Story: Wisconsin Union Grove Veteran's Home

Between four bare, achromatic walls of Wisconsin Union Grove Veteran’s Home, a middle-aged choir conductor gazed nostalgically out the window of an unfamiliar bedroom. He reached for the ringing telephone, only to find that the entire right side of his body was paralyzed. His nimble organist fingers had twisted themselves into unnatural positions, and his musically inclined tongue failed to produce coherent words. Bottles of pills littered the counter, and an intravenous drip system towered over his pale figure. An unintelligible cry escaped his lips when a nurse entered the room and informed him of the ischemic stroke that had stolen his voice and mobility. Emotions flooded his pores, but the sensation of utter sadness was overpowering. As
Besides the necessary “yes” and “no”, the animated “hey” and the names of his five adult children, the only phase that he could successfully enunciate was “I love you.” Jesse loved those three precious words. They were reserved for the attractive woman who regularly brought him dinner, the speech therapist who praised him through the struggle of pronouncing r’s and n’s, and for the phone calls with his oldest son, who he had not seen for eleven years. Every attempt to string together a mere sentence usually ended up in this comforting phrase. Perhaps the repetition of the words “I love you” was borne from a lifelong desire to hear them back. While typical adults reflect on the _______ something something perfect moments of their childhoods, Jesse’s past only conjured memories of his abusive father and incriminating mother who attributed the fatal drowning of her infant son solely to the four-year old Jesse who had been in the bathtub with him. From the tender age of four, this man grew up believing that he alone took his brother’s life. Despite his troubled past, Jesse strived to cultivate a healthy marriage and successfully raise his four rambunctious sons and daughter. When the erratic nature of his father unexpectedly emerged through his own impulsive actions, Jesse found himself on a plane to Texas, with an intimidating pile of divorce papers.
As they opened the last bedroom door on the first floor, tears pooled in the eyes of a man who had decades of living ______ on his face. Though a fresh, white stubble was emerging on his chin and rosacea had settled on his cheeks and nose, Jesse youthfully shouted the three words that (something something something like maybe lost their meaning idk, changed path of his life, never failed to soothe him, some shit, come back make this sound good. ) The former choir conductor clumsily forced a Christmas CD into his boombox, brought the sound to the highest volume, and energetically gestured his left hand to direct the chorale of grandchildren around his bed. Despite his inability to vocalize each word, Jesse belted out each note in sheer delight. When “Jingle Bells” had ended, each child received a dollar bill and a handful of hard caramels. His sprightly eyes illuminated with excitement as he eagerly awaited a reaction for his gifts. One by one, Jesse’s four grandchildren bent over and awkwardly gave the left side of his body a hug. As they pulled away, visible tear droplets were streaming down his face. His emotional personality only intensified when his eleven-year old granddaughter sang the first verse of “Bless the Broken Road” by Rascal Flatts. MAYBE SOMETHING ABOUT THE LYRICS IDK Happiness twinged with melancholia filled his lungs, as