Communicating Love Through Music

I’m getting ready to head to Minnesota to present for the Minnesota Statewide Activity Professional conference in St. Cloud. I’ll be doing the closing keynote as well as a session on Communicating Through Music.

Speaking of communicating through music, I want to share about “Joan.” Joan is someone I grew well acquainted with a few years back when I worked full-time at her long-term care community. She was quite cantankerous and proudly declared she was not interested in group activities. Her activity of choice was hanging out with a male buddy who eventually moved away. Then I quit my full-time job and didn’t see her again until I returned for a one-day-a-week consulting job three years later. I once heard that Joan was deeply depressed.

It was apparent when I returned to her “home,” that Joan had lost her spunk, as well as, for the most part, her voice. To an outsider looking in, Joan would look much like the stereotypical nursing home “slumper,” as some might describe as being “out of it,” or “not all there.”

One day, I sat next to her at her dining room table where she sat with a blank stare looking nowhere.

“Joan,” I tested, “I still remember you as that feisty lady who always refused to come out for my group activities.”

Joan appeared unresponsive.

“I just want you to know that I remember you and that I love you,” I continued as I leaned in to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m glad you didn’t forget me,” she suddenly replied, turning her gaze toward me.

I was dumbfounded.

“Joan, I’m going to be here every week. How ’bout I bring my guitar to your room and give you a little concert each week? Would you like that?”

“Yes,” she smiled.

Since that day, several months ago, I’ve fulfilled my promise. Each week she would either respond with an occasional comment such as, “That was beautiful,” would squeeze my hand tightly, or would lean her head into my neck when I would hug her.

Last week, I wasn’t able to make it to her room during the day. But I had to return later in the evening and decided I had better fulfill my promise.

I snuck into her room and gently woke her up, asking permission to share my music with her. She never took her gaze off me, not even when I said “good-bye,” and exited her room. I blew her a kiss and waved as I left.

I trust, that even if she can no longer speak, she is taking in the music, and the love that goes with it.

Kareen King is a Registered Drama Therapist and founder of The Golden Experience, offering keynotes, concerts, and workshops to enrich lives in long-term care. For booking information, contact her at kking@thegoldenexperience.com.