My father met Ashley as a 74-year-old recovering CABG patient. My mother and I were with him daily in the CVICU, and Ashley was our nurse as often as we could have her. While we anticipated a lengthy and difficult recovery, Dad's recovery was unique from the start. Dad had trouble standing to walk, then trouble sitting in the hospital room's recliner, then trouble even sitting up in his hospital bed. His lungs were more inflamed than anticipated. There was one particularly dark weekend when the doctors told us that they were concerned about Dad's lungs, and that his recovery might look different from what they had hoped. We braced ourselves for his life at home on oxygen, a schedule that revolved around pulmonary specialist appointments, and less time than we thought the surgery might give him.

Throughout, Ashley offered my father a clear and happy presence in this room where terrible things were happening. She offered my mother and me a nurse's perspective of what was happening to our most loved one. She helped us interpret the onslaught of information that the doctors were telling us daily. Ashley helped us learn a whole new language that we never wanted to learn. o2 SAT. Ground glass opacities. Pneumonia. NIV. Amiodarone toxicity. BMS. Interstitial lung disease. Palliative care. Most importantly, Ashley spotted Dad's anxiety when no one else did, including us.

Anxiety medications made my father's weeks in the hospital bearable. Dad briefly went home but returned to CVICU. Dad's lung scans were worse. Despite the discouraging data, he clinically improved enough for discharge to seem likely just before Christmas. But suddenly needed more oxygen... then suddenly the oxygen wasn't working... then suddenly, it was time to say goodbye. Ashley messaged me every single day. Ashley visited Dad and Mom whenever she could, even though he had moved to the MICU.

When I entered the hospital for the last time on New Year's Eve, knowing that Dad's Heavenly life would begin that night, Ashley was the first person that I saw. She was leaving my Dad's room in the MICU after taking his heartbeat for our heartbeat bear. She returned to his room again to take his fingerprint and have him write "I love you" for us one last time.

Since Dad's passing, Ashley continues to message me daily. After Dad's surgery, when we thought recovery was likely, we had already joked that she was my sister, another daughter, and officially part of the family. I had no idea that Ashley would help me grieve the loss of my father. Like a sister. This award is meant for nurses who show clinical excellence and outstanding compassionate care. Ashley's clinical excellence saved my father from being anxious and afraid as his life was ending. Ashley's outstanding compassion continues to impact my family today as she continues to help us grieve his loss. I am sadly aware that our family is not unique in our loss; this makes Ashley more incredible to me. She does this for every family, every patient in her care. I cannot imagine the magic that her heart is made of, and the brilliance of her brain, to make that possible.