The view was spectacular, the autumn sun spilling out over the rolling hills. “This is the home we always dreamed of,” sighed Mrs. Johnson, taking her ailing husband’s hand. “We’ve had almost twenty years to enjoy it. We’ve been blessed.” It was our first music therapy visit, and our new hospice patient, Mr. Johnson, sat in his recliner, smiling, but asked us to forgive him for not getting up. He just didn’t have it in him today.
He liked Faith Hill; she liked Tony Bennett- they recalled traveling across the country in their young married life in their VW van, curtains flapping in the breeze.
They spoke of happy times spent dancing, entertaining, and camping with their children.
I played the guitar as we sang together. Mr. Johnson sometimes moved his feet to the beat, sometimes sang, and sometimes listened quietly. He was a little confused at times, and had difficulty moving from one topic of conversation to the next. At the end the hour together, Mrs. Johnson told us that next week when we came we would meet their daughter and two granddaughters who were coming to visit. She didn’t say it, but we all knew- they were coming to say goodbye.
The next week, we were greeted in the driveway by two little girls who giggled and ran inside as our car came to a stop.
Inside, Mr. Johnson was sleeping soundly, a dose of morphine easing his pain and bringing him much needed rest. We asked the girls if they would help us write a song and make a video for their grandpa to see when he woke up. For the next several minutes, the girls told us everything they could remember of their 3 and 6 years. How grandpa and grandma held them by the hands and swung them when they visited the zoo. How grandpa put them up on his shoulders and they felt very tall. The girls’ mother recalled a silly nickname that her dad used to call her when she was very small. Mrs. Johnson and her daughter laughed as they heard stories about Mr. Johnson from the viewpoint of the little ones.
We wove their words into a song – creating a response for the girls to sing after each line: “That’s why we love grandpa!”
They were proud that their words had been used. They were even prouder when after that one rehearsal, they were able to sing their song and star in the video on their grandma’s iPad.
Mr. Johnson’s wife smiled through her tears as they sang. She knew the time was not long, and feared that her husband would not wake long enough to watch the video.
But the take away was together, we created a video of the girls recalling their grandpa. Set to music were their treasured memories. A gift for Mrs. Johnson and her daughter, not just in the final product, but in the moments shared together at his bedside recalling what a wonderful man he was, and hearing how much he meant to his granddaughters; a shared experience in celebration of a life well-lived.
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