I had been visiting the hospital with my therapy dog, Riley, for some time, spreading joy to patients. One day, we entered a quiet room to find Mr. Callahan, an elderly man who hadn’t uttered a word in months.
I gently encouraged Riley to hop onto his bed, and after a long pause, Mr. Callahan muttered, “Good boy.” Then, almost as if recalling a distant memory, he whispered, “Marigold.” He went on to explain that marigolds were his late wife Eleanor’s favorite flowers—she used to bring them to him regularly.
As Mr. Callahan slowly opened up, he shared that Eleanor had passed away two years ago, and since then, he had lost his will to connect with anything or anyone. But something about Riley’s presence seemed to breathe life back into him. He even asked to go outside, where marigolds had been planted in the garden.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he touched the flowers, their vibrant color reigniting the love he had for Eleanor. That moment wasn’t just about him speaking again; it was about healing, rediscovery, and the power of love that even death couldn’t erase. Riley’s visit helped him unlock memories he thought he had lost forever.