I've been looking after an elderly gentleman, who is suffering with short term memory loss, which he is finding very frustrating. We talk about it most days, to be honest we usually have a few of the same conversations each day. Because he rarely remembers having them. This evening, when I went to see him, I asked him how he was. "I really don't know", was his response, as he looked lost and bewildered. My heart went out to him.
" How do you feel in this moment", I asked him.
"Good" was his response.
Well that's what matters the most, I said. To which he smiled.
It's hard to see someone look so lost. We have such great conversations though. He's very aware of his circumstances. He talks openly about his depression and how it can lead to loneliness, which is when he can hit rock bottom. He loves to tell me, how music is one of the best medicines for depression and I agree wholeheartedly. Music, singing, dance, sport. As long as you have something that you are passionate about. As long as you are doing something that makes you feel alive.
Something, that also helps you connect with others. Because human connection is so important.
Everyday I come, he has music on. Billie Holiday, Doris Day, Amy Winehouse, the greats. Other times, it's a compilation of other Jazz Artists or Rock. Songs that I am familiar with and usually sing along to. He goes to choir once a week, which he loves.
"People often ask me what I do", he likes to tell me.
"I sing", is his response to them.
Everyday he tells me about his Irish Grandmother, who hails from Cork. Which leads to stories about his time spend there and his love for Irish songs. With him always breaking into song. That one about Galway Bay.
He's travelled a lot in the past, because of his work. He's got so many stories, from his time in different countries. Stories that I'm not sure if they are true or not , but he certainly believes them and loves to share them. And I love to listen to him as he comes alive.
"I have problems, remembering what happened yesterday, but I can remember everything from years ago". He tells me, at least twice a day, as well as the following.
" I grew up when the country (U.K) was in war, because of that I don't like the dark".
A life well lived.
Yet one that shows me our fragility. How our minds are so fragile, when we can feel so connected and alive one moment, and yet the next, feel totally lost.
The photos in this post, were taken on my way to his home.
