First Mom, Now Dad

I have a little extra time tonight and, although there are other things I could be doing, I felt like writing a bit tonight. It is rare for me to do a mi-week post, so I hope you enjoy it.

Today I did an assessment with a gentleman who has quite a remarkable story. He's actually the husband of a client I had last summer, but only saw once. Apparently, the client told her daughter about me and the daughter was there today. She was excited to meet me, share in this session, and tell me about her father. The client is a member of a small Christian congregation that is very conservative ["They make Baptists look liberal"], small ["They meet in each other homes, like Amish"], and pacifist. Despite all this, the client is fiercely patriotic and served as front line medic and dentist in WWII. He refused to carry a gun, but still wanted to serve his country. He did this all on an 8th-grade education. At one point, the battalion he was with overtook a Japanese village. As they were basically making POW camp, he met and talked with a young man of the village that caught his attention as a bright boy. He convinced his CO to let him take this 16-year old under his wing and tutor him. He taught the boy to be a medic, and now he's a doctor in Japan. He still keeps in touch with my client, calling almost everyday to check on him once he heard of his hospice admission. Now, it was my turn to take care of this man who saved this young man's life.

He was very anxious and agitated. I played some traditional folk for him while his daughter held his hands, waved them around like dancing, and clapped them together. This engaged him in the music, which I'm not sure he would have done without his daughters' instincts. I gradually slowed the music down and he began to calm down, eventually falling asleep. As his daughter, son, and I talked, he began to rouse, in much high spirits than before his very short nap. Then I used the music to give him a little energy. I started playing more uptempo tunes, always trying to keep him engaged and redirect him whenever he began to become anxious. By the end, was calm but not too lethargic, which was great to see.

There was a moment that I loved seeing during the session. The daughter, admitting that she is a "crier", was wiping tears away at one point and the client inquired, "What's wrong?" She stated, "I'm just a little sad." "Why?" "Because you're sick." "Don't worry about that. Don't you have a job to do?" "I do, Dad. It's taking care of you." "Well, thank you."

I don't think I need to say much more about the session. I think that last little conversation sums up the session quite well. It's so special to be able to see those memories take place and makes the work worth doing.