Story: In the Hole

I wanted to share a quick story that means a lot to me. It isn't very long or detailed, but was a very uplifting point in my week. It was really a nice way to start the week out for me.

I went to go see a couple this week that have some pretty incredible attributes. The husband is 98 years old and the wife is 102 years old. Some quick math shows that there are 200 years of experience in that one room of their nursing home. Although the wife is unable to communicate, they husband loves to talk and tell stories. Many of those stories, I have heard already from previous visits, but when a person that old is telling you something, you'd better listen! Haha.

I have been providing music therapy sessions for the wife for longer than the husband, as he was not appropriate for hospice services for a while. He would be up and talking and enjoying the session, which mainly consisted of me just playing music to provide positive sensory stimulation and a compassionate presence. There was one session, however, where I found the husband lying in bed and looking about as bad as his wife. Due to the community nature of music, when I provided music therapy for his wife, he received it as well. I sang the old hymns for her that I was told she enjoyed and left.

Flash forward to this week and you'll see the continuation of the story. When I arrived this time, he was very happy to see me. He remembered where I was from and what I was there to do, which, at 98 years old, is quite a feat. He kept telling me about how he remembered me coming to play for him when he was "in the hole." He continued to talk about the time he was "in the hole" between songs for the rest of the session. As I was starting to pack up to leave, he shook my hand and started talking more about that experience when he was "in the hole" and I played music for he and his wife. As he spoke, his eyes lightened and he said, "Your music brought me a little closer to Heaven that day. I thank you for it." It was really a touching moment, especially for an old farmer to admit something like that.

Obviously, that was a great way to start the week. It made me realize [again] that when I'm sharing music, whether in session, in passing, or in concert, that I'm not just sharing it with one person, but anyone who can hear me. The emotions and comfort that a musician puts forth is not meant to be isolated and guarded, but shared with everyone in the room. You may direct your attention to one person, but simply sharing space with someone changes their life a little bit.