The old man heard a noise that woke him up from a deep sleep.

It had taken him hours to finally fall asleep. He had gone to bed as usual the night before and as so often happened he tossed and turned for hours until he finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning. No one had told him that old people actually get less sleep than they had earlier in life. That was only one of the many crap pieces of information he had learned in the last few years. What else had no one told him? What else was he going to be subjected to as he neared the end he wondered.

He slowly rolled to his side, sat up in bed and heard the sound again. What the hell is that sound he thought. He stepped into his slippers that were tucked neatly next to his bed. He stood up and reached for his robe which lay neatly over the arm of the bedside chair.

It was still nearly dark outside as he made his way down the hall. For the love of GOD who would be making such noise at this hour. He walked carefully as he was alone in the house. After his last fall he was very cautious.

The sound happened again as he passed the kitchen. He grumbled again, angry that he had only been allowed a few hours of rest.

As he neared the sliding glass door to the backyard he saw the sun barely cresting the mountains in the distance. He could see it just over the back wall and as he slid the door open the sound seemed to become louder and more clear.

His mouth relaxed into an involuntary gasp and tears welled in his eyes. He was overwhelmed with the beauty of the sound and the gentle light of the sun slowly sweeping across the mountains. He stepped outside into the cool morning air and sat down on a patio chair as he realized the sound was a voice coming from the distance. An incredibly beautiful voice that touched his very soul.

He sat there watching the rays of the sun stretch across his garden moving slowly towards his feet. He listened as tears streamed down his face. It felt like pure beauty was touching him. He sat there for so long that his legs felt the warmth of the morning sun and light eventually warmed his face. He didn’t know how long ago the voice had stopped but he could still feel the sound throughout his limbs, he felt it in his heart. As the sun moved higher he stood up and slowly walked towards the sliding door. He had forgotten to close it.

All day thoughts of the beautiful voice were on his mind. He wondered if he would hear the sound again the next morning.

He did. Each morning he would wake up to the beautiful voice and go sit on the patio and immerse in the sound, until one day the voice did not greet him.

He woke up on his own and cautiously made his way to the back patio. There was no voice but only the chirping of the early morning birds in the distance. The sun still rose but it didn’t seem to have the same luster as before. He was disappointed and his spirits were low as he waited each morning for the sound to return.

What had at first seemed such an annoyance had become part of his daily routine, a beautiful gift of sound that he cherished and looked forward to. He would fall asleep each night with a smile knowing he would be greeted with the sound the next morning.

Weeks past and his health began to fail. Eventually he became so weak that he was reliant on a wheelchair and spent most of his time in bed. A caregiver was with him full time. His sleep was troubled as he worried whether he would ever hear the voice again.

One morning the sound of the gentle singing woke him up. He called to his caregiver to come help him move to the patio.

As he watched the sunrise and listened to the song he felt calm and peace wash over him but when he looked back at his caregiver she had already returned inside the house. He realized that she could not hear the voice. That was ok. He was content. A gentle tear rolled down his check. Pure happiness. All his pain and worry melted away.

Each morning the caregiver would take him out to the patio to see the sunrise, sometimes she would pause and watch as he smiled and wept.

Weeks later his daughter and grandson came to stay with him, they gave the caregiver a needed break and were happy to spend time with him. They knew his death was imminent. Each morning they took him out to the patio to see the sunrise. They would watch as he gazed at the distant mountains with such a peaceful smile on his face.

The man was comforted. When he commented about the voice, their puzzled looks revealed that, like the caregiver, they couldn’t hear it. When he mentioned the voice of an angel they looked concerned so he decided not to mention the beautiful sound to them again. It was ok. It was just for him. He was grateful for whatever beauty he was gifted. He didn’t need to know the details.

One afternoon his grandson asked if he was scared about what would happen after he died. The man took a moment to consider then responded that he wasn’t afraid, he knew that he would be able to hear his angel singing for him always.  He assured the boy that he knew he would be ok.

A few days later the man died. As he took his last breath his face relaxed and a smile graced his face. A gentle tear slid down his cheek.

The next morning the boy woke up to a strange sound just before sunrise. He climbed out of bed and went to the back sliding door. As he opened it a beautiful clear voice like he had never heard before washed over him.

He could see the sun rising over the gentle hills in the distance.

He was curious so he walked over to the gate at the far corner of the yard. Through the iron fence he could see the open grass area next to house. He could see a woman standing there. She was singing a sound that sounded like “Shanti Shanti Shanti” as she watched the sunrise.
The syllables seemed to flow out of her open mouth from the depths of her heart. It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. She repeated the sound 3 different times and each time on the third word there would be a gentle lilt to the sound that seemed to vibrate something inside of his heart.

He was mesmerized. He would never forget that beautiful sound. As she finished she turned to him and smiled with a tear gently flowing down her check.

He went slowly inside to his mother’s room and climbed in bed to snuggle her. He told her that he had seen Grandpa’s angel and heard her singing.

His mom went to the window and looked out to see a lady walking down the street. She realized that it was a neighbor that lived down the street.

She realized that hers was the voice that had comforted her father.

The writer realized while she was writing this story that she is the angel.

 Are you familiar with Ram Dass?