Music

I remember an awful day years ago, we put dad into a nursing home, for one night. We all tried so hard to sugar coat it for his sake, but he was terrified. He had cancer. The hospital had discharged him. This particular nursing home was the only one that would take him. We got him to his room, tried to make him comfortable. We brought him a TV from home. We had reservations, but kept trying to reassure Dad, telling him it would be all right. We finally left for the night. I am sure dad was scared and felt abandoned. That feeling was justified when dad called early the next morning in an urgent voice saying "get me out of here"! We spent the day finding another place that would help him feel better determined that he wouldn't spend another night where he was.

Years later I was in the hospital, feeling sick. After a long, sleepless night I wandered down the hall, because I heard some guy playing a guitar and singing. He was so good! He sat there for about an hour playing, just the kind of music dad loved, bluesy, folk music. I was so tired. That hospital stay I hadn't been able to sleep well, so I sat in that room, closed my eyes and felt the music in every part of my body. Muscles relaxed as the music washed over me like gentle waves. As I sat there and listened I thought of dad and his love of music. I could picture him when he was listening to music that he loved, his eyes closed halfway, his foot tapping to the beat, maybe humming or a little harmoninzing along with the song. If only dad had had live music that night in the rest home. This music took me back to another hospital stay when I couldn't breath. I was so sick and scared. For about a week I battled to get my oxygen levels up to 90 and they just wouldn't go there. They were giving me mega doses of prenisone. Everytime they put the oxygen meter on my finger I would try and will myself to have it be at least 90. It never was. I could hardly walk to the bathroom, and had to sit to brush my teeth. I thought if I didn't die from not breathing I would die from going crazy. A sweet nurse that had been working with me brought a CD player into my room. We picked out a random CD of quiet music, put it in and I layed back and listened. It was beautiful piano music.

As I lay there and listened I felt as if my sweet dear friend and neighbor who is a most talented pianist was sitting next to me, playing the piano, just for me. I started to feel peaceful and calm. My friend was there with me, even when she physically was not. I could feel her presence through the music. I was overwhelmed , and tears of gratitude rolled from my eyes. As I reflect on those two experiences with music and how they helped me at critical times of my life, I can only say thank you to Heavenly Father for the love of music that was put in my very soul and nurtured by my dad. For an appreciation of those that have that great talent and then go out and share it with others, to bring them happiness, joy and peace. Oh - and did I mention that my dear sweet neighbor's name is Pat? Guess what that guy in the hospital's name was?