Nurse Who Cared for Terminally Ill Child Soothes with ‘Salmon Sunset’

In the chaos of life, it’s important to find places where you can just be. Crescent Cove in Brooklyn Center offers that with respite and end-of-life care for children with shortened life expectancies.

Andrew Wilson and Britta Torkelson learned of Crescent Cove shortly after their infant son, Cassian, was diagnosed with Krabbe disease, a rare genetic condition with no cure.

Cassian seemed healthy until his four-month appointment, when he was rushed to the emergency room. After months of testing, his parents learned he had Krabbe, which causes severe neurological issues and usually leads to death before age 5

“We made the decision to move to palliative care,” Torkelson recalled. “It’s a type of medicine where it’s about making the patient comfortable in their final days.”

When Cassian was about seven months old, he was accompanied by his parents and his older brother, Soren, to Crescent Cove for end-of-life care. There, Wilson and Torkelson didn’t have to act as nurses. They just got to be his parents.

“We didn’t do anything. They just took care of us and it was life-saving — it was awesome,” Wilson said.

“To be able to go somewhere and have other people do that for you so you can just hold him was…” Torkelson paused. “There are no words for that.”

When Cassian’s family got settled, they were asked to select his favorite color and animal, a custom for kids who stay at Crescent Cove. 

“Obviously, as a seven-and-a-half month old, he doesn’t exactly have either of those. So we looked at each other and we looked down at Cassian in our arms, and he was wearing this little t-shirt,” Torkelson said. “This was one of the only things that I had bought when I was pregnant for him.”

The shirt, a salmon-colored number with a jellyfish cartoon, held the answers. Cassian’s color would be salmon and his favorite animal a jellyfish. As their stay went on, the choices began to feel less random.

A family photo in the Torkelson-Wilson office. Soren, Andrew Wilson, Britta Torkelson and Cassian are pictured.

The Final Moments

Nurse Erika Wells, who has worked at Crescent Cove for more than six years, is also a musician. She sings at church and uses music to process and understand her life and the world around her.

Wells was one of the first people Cassian’s family met upon check-in. She and Cassian’s parents bonded quickly over music and their little boy. The family was there for about two weeks, and Wells was there most of the days.

“As you would imagine, I got pretty close to his parents and family members that would come in and visit,” Wells said.

Wells would even stop by on her days off to visit, not wanting to miss Cassian’s final time on earth.

One night, as was routine, Wells took Cassian into the sensory room as his parents ate dinner. She would look out onto the lake. But that particular night, she was standing with him in silence.

“Really fulfilling moments can happen in those one-on-one spaces,” Wells said. “I was just existing with him, and it was very peaceful.”

It turned out that she was holding Cassian in his final moments.

“I just had this picture in my mind of him sailing off in a canoe, or in a boat out unto the lake,” Wells said. “It was almost poetic in the sense that as I’m picturing that — he takes one big breath in and then doesn’t take another out.”

Wells went to tell his parents. When Andrew came in the room, they opened the blinds.

That’s when they had noticed it.

“The sky just lit up with the most brilliant orange, pink, salmony colors. And it was the whole sky. One side to the other,” Wilson remembered.

A photo of the salmon sunset taken by Erika Wells.

A Song for a “Salmon Sunset”

Wells saw meaning in it, too. 

“It felt like I had this really profound experience, and no way to get it out of my mind and out of my heart in the way that I wanted to,” Wells said.

So she put it into song. Wells said it was the first time she was processing from her own experiences.

The song, called “Salmon Sunset,” opens:

Hey Bubba, I’m so glad we met today. It only took about a minute for you to steal my heart away.

As the story builds, she offers comforting words, and gives him permission to move on. Soon– they’re overlooking the lake together. Wells said this is one of her favorite parts of the song:

We’ve walked this road together hand-in-hand, you’ve been so brave and fought the best you can.

I’ve held you close, but it might be time, so take a deep breath when you feel it’s right.

And off into the salmon sunset, you’ll set sail and finally be free.

The song closes with a reflection. 

Hey Bubba, you’ve been gone for a little while. When I see a salmon sunset, I can’t help but give a smile. 

Hey Bubba, you’re in the magic all around. I feel you in the morning breeze and when the sun goes down.

A friend of Wells’ helped her record and mix the song in a studio.

“To me, it really beautifully depicts the beauty and the tension of end-of-life care,” Wells said.

Wells performs a short part of her song, “Salmon Sunset,” on keyboard at Crescent Cove.

Musical Memory

Cassian passed away in March 2024. Wells recorded the song a few months later, but didn’t release it until March 2026. The album art is a photo of that very salmon sunset.

She said Cassian’s parents were involved along the way. Wilson and Torkelson love music, too, which you can see that from the moment you walk into their house: a collection of records and the keyboard that sits in their living room. Both of them, as musicians, were grateful for the song and the care Wells took.

“I think it’s an amazing way to honor his memory,” Wilson said.

On the anniversary of Cassian’s passing, Wells visited his memorial bench. There, she saw another salmon sunset beyond the tree line.

“I don’t know how I can fully express the gratitude that I have for [Cassian’s parents],” Wells said. “They truly are the best.”

And today, Wilson and Torkelson’s house is decorated with sprinkles of Cassian, including a photo of the very salmon sunset the song inspired. Even a stuffed jellyfish is on display. Their son, Soren, has his own jellyfish to match.

Torkelson is pregnant now. Their third child, a girl, is due this summer.

You can listen to Salmon Sunset on Spotify.

Brooklyn Center