Story: Unusual Christmas Request/Response

First off, I want to apologize for my little hiatus lately. Suffice it to say that my wife and I have moved and are having a baby in the very near future. Now, I'm going to try to get back on track.

I had an interesting experience yesterday while doing an assessment. For those of you who aren't familiar with a music therapy assessment, this is what music therapists use to assign goals and objectives for their clients. I assess four different needs to find appropriate goals: social, spiritual, physical, and emotional needs. I usually don't know what I'm getting into right away when I start an assessment, which can be a challenge for me as an introvert. I have to meet new people, figure out how to interact with them, and decipher how I can best help them. This can turn out to be an interesting experience, as this particular story indicates.

I met the gentleman on hospice care who I was assessing and he was basically unresponsive. His wife was sitting in the corner of the room, not by the bed, and I could sense that she was understandably very anxious with the situation. She did not seem to know what to do with herself and vented her anxious energy through talking very quickly and at length with me before we started the assessment about the food that people had been bringing her in the hospital for support. At this point, I was a little worried that I wouldn't actually get to play any music for my client because she would take up too much time. However, I was able to corral her thoughts to music. I mentioned that, around the this time of year, some people like hear holiday music, but that I had other styles like country, hymns, jazz, and traditional folk music. She said, "I don't think he's going to make it to Christmas," and began to choke up. I said, "Well, we could bring him a little Christmas now, if you want to." She jokingly inquired, "You have 'Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer'? We used to laugh every time that song came on." I did have that song, but have only played it a handful of times for the clients who I know wouldn't be offended by the song. I responded, "I sure do! Want to start out with that one?"

As I started playing it, her mouth began to curl into a little smile, but with very mixed emotions. Her face clearly showed her emotions, but they were very mixed. She seemed to enjoy the song, but then grew sad at the fact that he would not be able to laugh with her when this song came on anymore. She began crying and got up to hold his hand. She sat in the chair near the bed and stroked his hand, cried, and rested her head on the side of the bed. Her grief was evident, but still restrained. At one point, the clients' eyes fluttered a bit as she was talking with him and it filled her with such joy. I told her that the sense of hearing is the last to go and that I'm sure that the client loved to hear her voice. She began talking to him between verses of songs that I would play and it became this beautiful sharing moment between this old couple, these old friends.

Processing the session afterward, I was trying to pinpoint the moment when she began to open up, express her grief, and share with the client. I realized it was during that first verse of "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer." I would never have chosen that one to kick off the assessment and realized that no other song would have granted me access to that response. No other song would have conjured up such an experience for my client's wife. No other song would have started the process of grief and sharing that I had just witnessed. As I thought of the session, I was reminded that music carries its own powers and emotions, and I am simply there to facilitate that process. I think it was a good lesson for me to learn again. I guess music can do a lot without my help and sometimes, I just need to get out of the way and let it do its work.