Mom has been a resident at Ageis Assisted Living for 2.5 years. In this time, her little body has taken assaults from a broken leg, broken hip, bouts with gastritis, deep depression, memory loss, and now three inoperable hernias.
When words and medicine fail to comfort, music takes over.
As a family, we always have sung: driving in the car, washing the dishes, walking along trails. We know far too many words to ‘Hit Kit” favorites from WWII, Broadway musicals, and Frank Sinatra. It’s a good thing.
To ease her confusion about where she is, I rewrote “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” We sing “Now I live right here in Aegis, all the live long day. Eileen and Bill are right beside me, not so many miles away…” She sings along. The care managers and even the executive director can sing it to her.
After 14 days in the hospital, she’s now home at Aegis with hospice. Once again, music soothes like the balm in Gilead. My brother and sister and I surround her bed at night and from our memories, coax out songs from our youth: “Blue Skies”, “Paper Moon”, “My Buddy”, and even obscure Latin hymns and May processionals from the days of Catholic grade school choirs. Mom nods her head and mouths the words. When we stop, she whispers “More music.”
More music. What music could you sing? Somehow a rap song at the end of life doesn’t seem like the music I would want. An even deeper question, who would surround my bed and sing for me.? Perhaps the test of a life well-lived is the answer to that question.
“…I only know there ain’t no love at all without a song”….
The music was written by Vincent Youmans, the lyrics by Billy Rose and Edward Eliscu. The song was published in 1929.
Eileen~ What a beautiful message. We used to walk my grandmother up and down the hall of her LTC residence and she would sing away! When dementia sets in, music gently reaches into the most primitive parts of our brain, sparking a connection that words may fail to make. One other primitive connection (you know what I’m going to say, don’t you ;) is a genuine loving smile. Look deep into her eyes and smile, even laugh–and even after words have left her she will communicate back to you with her own smile. Sending loving prayers and healing wishes for you and your entire family.
Eileen,
Having been able to do the same with many, your words ring true! One of my favorite quotes is “To love someone is to learn the song in their heart and to sing it to them when they have forgotten.” It is difficult to watch a loved one suffer. However, some of my most precious connections have come quietly as I have sat by a bedside and sung. I have even done it over the phone. I would love to sing to your mother!
PS I would be just one of the many that would surround your bedside and sing to you.