Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory –
Percy Bysshe Shelley, English Romantic Poet (1792 – 1822)
People say, watching someone transition
from all knowing, to sporadic dementia,
to full blown Alzheimer’s,
is like watching someone disappear.
It seems to me,
there could be another perspective . . .
She saw our bodies, our faces.
But in her eyes, we were shadows.
In the beginning of the end
the mist would eventually lift.
She’d remember our names,
laugh with us as we reminisced.
But the veil fell and we lost her,
and she lost us.
We no longer existed in her world.
But the music . . . sweet notes, harmony,
songs she loved.
These she kept in her heart.
Some days, we’d find her singing.
Her voice clear and strong.
Her face animated.
We dared not interrupt
lest she stop
and simply stare confused.
She’s gone now, gone from this earth.
In her last days of lying still,
eyes closed, lights dimmed,
unaware of nurses nearby
or family by her side,
occasionally she’d smile.
I have no doubt
angels were hovering nearby,
humming a lullaby only she could hear.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today is Tuesday Poetics and Merril asks us to write a poem about a transition in time we may have experienced or that we’ve thought about. She provides the poetry lines from Percy Bysshe Shelley at the top of my poem, as a bit of inspiration. They made me think about the lasting power of music for those who, for example, suffer from dementia and Alzheimer’s disease.
I was reminded of Tony Bennett’s last concert with Lady Gaga, when he was suffering from Alzheimer’s. He had trouble remembering many things but as soon as he heard the music of the standby songs he sang and loved for so many years, and was in front of the audience, all the music came back to him. The YouTube video is of him singing at that last concert.
On a more personal note, I learned several days ago that an old college friend of mine recently died. We were sorority sisters and she sang in our college choir and for all these years, in her church choir. Like Tony Bennett, I know from last year’s Christmas letter from her husband, that although her memory problems were increasing, she was still singing in her church choir. At her funeral, which I was able to watch in a recording, the pastor said her life was a song….and he had no doubt, God was singing a lullaby to her in her final days.
** the scene within the poem is fictional

I have no doubt that music may be the last thing that leaves us… I do remember that music could bring my mother back for a short while too
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Music has that special attribute of healing, being engaging, immersing us in a rhythm and sound.
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oh goodness Lillian you picked a perfect exemplar for the prompt and these lines touched me deeply
“But the veil fell and we lost her,
and she lost us.
We no longer existed in her world.”
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Thank you, Laura. It is unfathomable to me that my dear friend suffered from this horrific disease. I can’t imagine the pain in that time of transition….before one “tips” over into another world where one sees but does not see.
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Ah Lill, your poem resonates with me, reminds me of my late mother, and brought tears to my eyes. I watched her disappear and it was hard to come to terms with. Although Mum tried to hide it in the early stages, she lost all connections to reality within just a couple of years. She was a music lover, of all kinds of music, and she sang, but when I bought a CD player and some of her favourites, she couldn’t bear any kind of sound. That was heart-breaking.
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I’m so sorry you had to experience this with your mother, Kim.
I think for the person who has Alzheimers, there must be unbearable pain at the time of diagnosis….and grief and anger and pain as things begin to slowly disappear….and then at that “tipping point” when they truly enter the shadows, it seems they are content because they are unaware? But who really knows?
For the family, the unbearable pain increases as we watch their memory and cognition slip away…and it continues as we see them, their bodies, their faces. But we cannot have the conversations anymore, the knowing glances, the laughter from shared stories.
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Beautiful post Lillian. It is so sad to see someone we love rapidly deteriorate very fast to dying. It reminds me of relatives who have gone on so this post hits home. I would like to believe angels were nearby too.
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Thank you, Grace.
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Oh. . .Lillian! All the feelings here. I’ve heard so many examples of people with dementia who could still remember and sing.
My mom did not have Alzheimer’s or full dementia (except possibly at the end), but sometimes she was in a dreamworld where she saw people who were not there.
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Entering a “dreamworld” – we can hope this brings them comfort. I can not imagine the pain and grief and anger one must feel at the time of diagnosis, when one is “just forgetting” things….and then it seems, at the “tipping” point when they enter as you say, the dreamworld, there is a vacant contentment for some. While for the family and loved ones, the pain increases.
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Yes, it is so hard on everyone. As I said, my mom was mostly lucid, and we were not allowed to be with her when she was most sick from Covid and dying. But, I so hope she thought my dad was with her. That brings me some comfort.
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This is deeply moving, Lillian! I resonate with; “But the veil fell and we lost her, and she lost us. We no longer existed in her world. But the music . . . sweet notes, harmony, songs she loved. These she kept in her heart.” Sigh .. 💖💖
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Thank you, Sanaa.
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“I have no doubt
angels were hovering nearby,
humming a lullaby only she could hear.”
That’s the piece that holds us together.
❤️
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Amen.
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Oh this is bittersweet.
Much💖love
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Thank you, Gillena.
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I really like the set-up as a differing perspective on the specific transition. Nicely done.
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Thank you!
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You have captured the prompt of transition so well. Alzheimer’s is such a difficult disease to see play out in those we love. I too wrote about this as we watched it take place in the life of Ruth’s father several years ago!
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I can not imagine watching this happening to someone. It is just such a terrible “life robbing” disease in so many ways. Would that cure can be found.
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Yes, I agree!
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Something to be said about music rising from deepest in the brain, a memory without words. How bittersweet your friend’s passing. My wife’s father died of Alzheimer’s last year after a long fade (the last 3 in memory care). Something remained of him when all was gone.
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God bless the wonderful people who work in memory care units. They are the angels on earth.
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Wow, this hits home. My dad has Alzheimer’s. I was with him today, to give him a shave and a haircut. Its so sad to remember how he used to be. It is easier to just be happy to see that he is happy and having a good day. It was really nice when he first saw me and was so happy. He doesn’t always remember me per se but he does remember that I am his daughter. It is very hard watching the decline though
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I am so sorry you are going through this with your dad. It is truly a horrible disease that is life robbing….in so many ways.
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It definitely makes it easier now that he is living closer and seems so happy.
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this made me tear up. I have lost two uncles to different types of dementia and we lost my wife’s grandmother to Alzheimer’s earlier this year. music was always in their hearts
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Am so sorry you’ve had to watch this horrible disease happen in your family. It is truly “life robbing” in so many ways.
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thank you
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