In July 2008, during the course of one of the monthly birthday parties in Wilmette, a resident asked, as she always does at her birthday, that I play her husband’s favorite song. I knew him while he still lived with her in independent living. He moved to nursing care well over a year ago but we continue to celebrate his favorite music even though he can’t join us at the party.  Her request sparked conversation at the table, explaining to new residents that didn’t know him and the activity director about the impact that my music has on residents. Even though he hasn’t heard me perform Ravel’s Pavane since he moved to nursing care, his memory of it is strong and each year when his wife comes to celebrate her birthday and she asks me to play it, he remembers it again when she relates to him that I honored a request for him in his absence. I marvel at how music brings joy even through a remembered experience. There’s a specialness in sharing music in person as we do at these parties that recordings cannot duplicate. Live music impacts the listener long after the performance in a way that I cannot measure.

I’ve been performing on a monthly basis since 1999 at some independent senior living complexes, entertaining for the birthday celebrants of the month. It’s a joy to get to know the residents and celebrate with them but included in that work is watching them as their health changes. Ann and John live in one of these complexes and as Ann’s Alzheimer’s has progressed, John has hired an aide for her. She has difficulty with her memory and with simple tasks and yet she recognizes me every time we meet in the hallways. We got to know each other through music and I learned some music from her native homeland of the Netherlands. We made a point, each time she or her husband celebrated their birthday to share music of Holland and she’d sing along in Dutch. In early 2007 I learned of her diagnosis, and yet, each time she and I cross paths, even if the harp is not by my side, she recognizes me. The music placed something significant in her mind that transcends her Alzheimer’s so that when she sees me, even if the harp is not included, she remembers me and the music.

August 2007 takes Harp Instead to Westbridge Assisted Living in Wheaton to see a friend who recently entered assisted living. It's a difficult transition for her as she's had to give up a lot of freedom. My visit was met with a string of complaints, things that are obvious but she wanted to say. When we finally got to sharing music, we propped her apartment door open so neighbors could hear. Before the first song ended, my dear friend was smiling. Within 5 minutes, the neighbor across the hall opened her door and propped it open with her walker so she could listen too. Then the care givers wandered in to listen, wishing it was break time and they could stay longer. By the time the 30 min. visit was over, my friend was all smiles, a complete attitude adjustment! Other residents will slowly learn that she had a private concert and she'll be a celebrity! This visit just turned lemons into lemonade.  Try doing that by sending flowers!

A lady from church spent most of the summer in hospice care. By June 2007 she was in discomfort nearly all of the time, off food completely and often restless and exhausted. The harp visited her weekly during her last weeks and she started to plan what kind of music she'd like to hear next time. She'd close her eyes and her breathing would slow down, opening them only long enough to ask that I repeat something she particularly liked. At a time when conversation took too much energy,  Harp Instead visits gave her company that took no effort on her part, except to enjoy. It was a pleasant time spent, soothing her in a way that the IV and medications could not. An email from a church member said " I spoke with Carl* the other day and he mentioned how soothing it had been when you came to play for Anna* -- I know it meant a lot to her."

June 2007 brought a visit to a neighbor with MS who was admitted to Central Dupage Hospital for treatment. MS patients are fraught with constant medical attention and it can become tiresome. Hospital stays only emphasize the dependence on medicine this disease brings. As I brought the harp into the room, my neighbor's mother and friend were there comforting her. As I played, they commented that her color looked the best it had all week. Indeed, she perked up with the music and she was less pale. Again, the harp brought a response filled with happiness that surpassed any response she'd had to the flowers sitting on the shelf. Her roommate enjoyed the music too and we pulled the curtain back so she could watch the harp being played. Nurses and doctors stuck their heads in to listen and the music brought a moment so peace to many.

Early June sent Harp Instead to Marianjoy Rehabilitation Hospital to bring music to a lady who'd recently had hip replacement surgery. In her note of thanks she wrote, "I'm so grateful to you and so many...for all the help they have been to me during this very difficult and vulnerable time. God has been so good and he's sent you as one of His Angels to minister to me when I needed it most. That was one of the worst days I have had since my surgery and the wonderful "service" just brought His face so clearly before me and renewed my faith again so I could go on."  A friend of Bev's arranged for me to take music in and Bev benefited.
I spent several Sundays playing at Wynscape for a dear family member that had knee replacement surgery. Even with medication, this procedure brings discomfort. I knew that the rest of the family would be in church so I could visit uninterrupted at that time. The first time I visited she apologized that she wasn't up to a visit. Knowing that, I explained that I was only there to play for her. The harp brought hymns to her on Sunday when she couldn't be in church. Together, we shared music reminding us of the Lord and his goodness. With closed eyes and open ears, the music distracted from the discomfort of post surgery stress and eased the fatigue of physical therapy that filled each week day. When she got back to church, she wasn't telling everyone about the beautiful flowers I saw on the dresser. She was talking about the harp visits!

January 2007 brought Harp Instead visits to a lady at Wynscape Nursing Center as she was recovering from a fall. The table in her room was full of greeting cards and flowers, yet the harp was the gift that brought the most cheer. Her complaining about being laid up ended and bragging about her personal concert became the principle topic of conversation.

August of 2006 brought an opportunity to bring harp to one of the founders of Healing Harps. As an advocate of the power of music to transform lives, this man was in a position to benefit personally from his own research and advice. I followed his advice and took music to someone that needed soothing. I found him recovering from a hip replacement at Marianjoy Rehabilitation Hospital and the music brightened his day. He'd been watching that afternoon's chapel service via in house TV but my harp wasn't amplified well for the TV reception and he'd been regretting that he couldn't hear it well. The surprise of having the harp show up in his room for a private concert later was received joyfully.

One summer Private Harp Instead regularly visited Brown Wing of Marianjoy to see a friend who was recovering from a traumatic brain injury. I soon learned patients who are physically and mentally paralyzed in hospitals, rehabilitation facilities and nursing homes all miss their everyday life. Visiting friends will often carry long, sad faces and look upon patients with sympathy when all the patient really wants is to feel part of some sort of balanced interaction. The harp empowers the conversation, something normal in this particular friend's life as he is a musician too. We shared music as usual and talked about the familiar things of life, taking the focus away for the moment from the unique therapies and discomfort that his accident brought unexpectedly into his life. 

Private Harp Instead visits and more public Concerts of Comfort offer exceptional activities that modern medicine often neglects to provide.
Winter of 2001/2002 brought weekly visits to a man at the Dupage County Convalescent Center.  His condition had taken away his ability to speak so visits with friends and family were limited to one way conversations.  The music shared weekly was personalized to his tastes, classical music and favorite hymns. His wordless responses let his wife and me know that he appreciated deeply what the music brought to his life. Without speaking a word, this dear soul thanked me every time we were together.  Favorite music brought pleasant memories of a long happy marriage and faith that did not waiver.

Winter of 2000 brought several visits to a patient suffering from a rare form of blood cancer. The only treatment for pain was a blood transfusion, which extended life and suffering. Keeping Lorraine comfortable proved difficult so her daughter brought music to soothe. At the first visit her home care nurses were skeptical and cautioned that Lorraine was tired and probably couldn't tolerate much music. She enjoyed the whole visit. The next week, visits were greeted with the same nurses' caution. Each time as I arrived, I announced to Lorraine that I'd brought the harp back. Each time all the tension left her face at that announcement. Just the thought that the music would fill the air soon brought her comfort. Each week, the same story repeated itself, with Lorraine asking me to repeat her favorite music. Eventually the nurses admitted that as Lorraine would remember the music between visits she'd relax.  The music brought the only relief from pain she had in those last days.

The mid-1990s I took the harp into the dementia unit of the Dupage County Convalescent Center. What an interesting place to take music. When the concert began the residents were pacing, sitting alone, not interacting with any one at all and within 10 or 15 min. not only did they settle down to listen, many started to talk with each other.  There was always recorded music in the wing. The response of residents to the live harp music was vastly different.

In the early 1990's my grandfather was suffering from Alzheimer's. He hardly spoke more than one or two syllables. One summer while visiting him in another state I took my harp along to play for him. I chose to play traditional hymns from the Lutheran Church that he'd have stored in his long term memory. It wasn't long before he was having quite a conversation between hymns. Then the real surprise: this man who disliked exercise stood up and declared "Wait right there, I'm going to get your mother." Amazing. My mother lived just down the street, too far under normal conditions for him to walk but the music moved him out of the haze of Alzheirmer's to motivate him to want to share the music with someone he loved.  We started taking harp to the restaurant down the street. If I'd play while everyone read the menu and got settled, Grandfather could read the menu too, decide what he'd like and communicate to us in a way that was locked up without the music. His response to the music was predicatble in this manner for several years.  Music brought us a way to unlock communication for a while longer. It was wonderful to get more than a few words from him.

* Real names have been withheld.