My dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a number of years ago. He has out-lasted many of the predictions of the doctors and has battled the disease with a wonderful temperament. I saw him last week because the nurse at his assisted living said he is in the last stages. Although I'm far away, he is never far from my thoughts and prayers.
My dad loves music. He played in the band for Notre Dame High School in Chicago, loved the marching band at Purdue University, where he became an Engineer. He sang at piano bars with my mom while they dated and joined a Barbershop Chorus while he was a young father and went to night school at the University of Chicago for his MBA. Mom and dad's best friends were his quartet and their wives and our families took vacations together. His quartet came to sing at my reception when I got married and they were one of the day's highlights.
When my mom passed away in her early 50's to cancer, music was dad's solace. He joined a new Barbershop Chorus and quartet, since some of his friends had moved away. He traveled the world singing and finally his Chorus won the Internationals.
When dad needed assistance and moved into his assisted living home, he sang to the residents. He and another woman who played the piano, would entertain their fellow residents. He even coached my sister's 4 boys to sing in 4 part harmony and they came to entertain there too. When my dad's body and mind started to shut down, he would sometimes stand up in the dining room and sing spontaneously, even though he rarely spoke.
Last week, when I visited, we brought in an I Phone and went to You Tube and found his old Chorus was celebrating 60 years and had recorded their concert. It went back to the 50's playing music from when my dad dated my mom...the sixties when we all watched hits on the TV for the first time, the 70's when he was part of the Chorus going to Nationals and taking 5th place. I got to go on a family vacation because of that concert and I recognized the music, just like he did. It has been weeks since he's gotten more than a word or 2 out, but he started humming and even sang with his lips, although his voice was missing.
He loved the music. He moved his hands and smiled and for a few moments recognized me. He tapped an almost empty cup that he held with a fierce grip. Soon, we took him down to lunch and I fed him. He ate almost everything and the cup would tap, and I knew the music was still playing in his head. He lifted the cup absently to his lips and drank by himself, which he hasn't done in a very long time.
Music is magical in our family. It is a part of our childhood; a part of who we are and how we raise our kids. We all love it, in a variety of forms, just like our dad, but last Saturday, the magic was that much more real. Watching how my dad's mind came alive again, watching him smile with his eyes and drink from a cup because of the music; it was a blessing.
They say the music is a universal language, as infinite as numbers are and as close to our Creator and the realms of heaven as we can get here on earth. I have to say, after watching my dad over the years, music is more than magical, it is miraculous. I don't know how much longer my dad will be with us, but I know music made his life, and mine, richer, fuller, better. I've raised my kids with music and see it live in their hearts and minds as well. I know music will be with me long after my dad moves on to celestial concerts, long after my kids watch me sing my own swan song. I also know that music will get them through life as happier, healthier people. I've seen what it has done for my dad and know what is continues to do for me. Music is a healing gift from God. Sing Alleluia!
