An End and Beginning

When you didn't realize the end was the end

I’m on a road trip to see some friends in neighboring states, and I passed the exit of this former client of mine. Before I even got to the exit Beach Boys music started strolling through my head. That was the music she liked. That was the music I learned for the session. That was the music that accompanied me on my drive every time I saw this woman. I visited her as she was the caregiver of a man with Parkinson’s and dementia. She was responsible for her family and was weary of anyone else walking through her door.

They had a sweet little house on the countryside with their last name on a sign at the edge of their driveway. I’ll always remember their last name because of that.

Music therapy was new to this woman; she had no idea what to expect. I gave her options and showed her some different activities we could do together, but all she kept returning to was relaxation. Her life was far from peaceful. With all of her responsibilities, for not only herself but the rest of her family too, it was not restful nor calm.

All she wanted was relaxation.

For years her doctors pleaded with her to care for herself instead of everybody else. She had worn herself out! As she lay down, I sat on a rickety chair at the foot of the bed trying not to be in the way of the door in case anyone needed to come in. I encouraged her to take some deep breaths, close her eyes, and ready herself for a state of relaxation. Taking her through a progressive muscle relaxation, I simply fingerpicked on the guitar and spoke softly and predictably as she drifted off into a new world of relaxation and peace.

Her stress started out at a 12 and 11 out of 10, which I’m not sure is possible. As we moved through the guided muscle relaxation I observed her body become more still and sunken in bed. A presence of calm was entering the room. We continued this work for all of five sessions (wish we had more!). At the end of our sessions, I checked back in and asked about her stress. I remember days when it only went down to nine or eight and she raved about the great improvement. To my joy and her relief, this client’s stress got to an all-time low with a rating of 6. For someone always in a state of fight or flight, with stress levels over capacity, this was a really really big win!

Beside the music, our sessions left space for conversation. During one of our very first sessions my client started opening up about all of the stress in life, caring for her loved ones, taking care of the house, and all the other responsibilities that come with older age. As she spoke, after stepping into a state of relaxation, she started to cry. Crying was foreign to her. It was not something you did, let alone in front of another person. Her tears seemed like weight dripping off of her body; her mind releasing emotional heaviness. Because of the music we shared, she felt safe. She was comfortable to open up to a complete stranger because we bonded over music. I brought an experience she had never felt before, a state of relaxation and a moment where no one needed her.

I had no idea at the time, but I would not see this woman again after our last session. Even though I have worked in elder care, intensive care units, and hospice for 10 years, I still feel the loss. When your loved one dies, your healthcare providers grieve with you. For me, my patients, clients, and families that I work with are forever held in my mind and heart through the music we share together.

As I continue this drive with tears in my eyes, I remember this sweet woman who took a chance on a stranger and music therapy. She received rest she so desperately needed, even for just a moment.

I am grateful for every person I get to work with, and the music that connects us is an everlasting language of love. The music I use with one person will be transferred to the next client, and on and on the legacy of music goes. As I think of Beach Boys songs today, I smile at a profound and ironic line, “God only knows what I’d be without you.“ And I wonder what I’d be without of the beautiful people I work with. I didn’t know it was the end for this woman, but for the music that we shared, it was only the beginning.