In January 2023, my father was admitted to St Mary’s Hospital Nasseff Tower Cardiac Unit. My Dad had a very complicated medical course during the nine days that he was a patient. In those days, there were so many highs and lows, multiple tests, and many new faces coming to see and manage his care. For the past 2 years, I have been my Dad’s caregiver, banker, and other things that an adult child can do for her Dad. My Dad was very confused at times due to illness. He was a mechanic by trade and was reminiscing through many decades of his lifetime with his many cars, projects, and the various car motors, and endless tales of his 78 years of life. Each and every one of his care team was so kind to listen to him without judgment and just let him tell his tales from his younger years. My Dad was an excellent historian, even in his sickest days, he could remember details. Those 9 days were very frightening for me. It was in the middle of a very cold winter, I spent long hours at his bedside observing kindness, compassion and dignity. Not one time did I witness anything but exemplary care from EVERY single person who entered his room. From the housekeeping staff to the PCAs who were assigned to be “one-on-one” care for him, to his nurses and Physician assistants, to his top-rated cardiothoracic surgeon, I was very impressed with his team. I was scared, exhausted, hungry, cold at times, and there were moments that I had to find a quiet corner to weep. The staff not only took care of my Dad, but they also took care of me as well. At my request, they protected my Dad from the “scary stuff.” They were honest, upfront, and straightforward with my father’s prognosis 100% across the board. They even had a beautiful, sweet social worker (whose name was Angel) call me on my commute home one evening to check on me. In my opinion, this was above and beyond. This was human kindness and it was overflowing towards a daughter who tried her very best to protect a man that she loved and adored since her birth. My Dad’s life ended after a very risky, complicated cardiac surgery. That day also happened to be my 54th birthday. Late that evening, I kissed my Dad’s cheek and held his big, strong (very swollen) hand as life support was stopped and his heart stopped beating. There are really no words to thank the hands that touched my Dad. They made a difference during the hardest days of my life. Nasseff Tower is a well-oiled machine that deserves to be recognized for the soft place they provided.