A few weeks ago my wife Annie and I visited my mother, who
is progressing into the final stages of Alzheimer’s in a care facility in my
hometown. We were able to take the time to help feed her dinner that evening.
Before I was born, Mom was winning journalism awards. She
was an accomplished jazz and ragtime pianist as well as the church organist for
many years. She was a source of great inspiration and practical help for me in
writing and music. (Of course! She’s my mom!) In recent years it has been brutal
to watch her lose both her way with words and her way around the ivories.
Midway through the meal, Mom
shoved her cafeteria plate out of the way and started drumming her fingers on
the table, moving her arms to her own cadence. Annie and I turned to an
attendant who shrugged his shoulders and said, “Every once in a while, it
happens.”
We listened and watched for a few
moments. Then Annie whispered, “Steve, she’s
playing the piano.” And with that hint, it only took me about four measures
to recognize the rhythm of a pretty sophisticated ragtime standard Mom had
played at social clubs, family gatherings and at home for 60 or 70 years, I’d
guess. One of her favorites and one of mine, too.
I leaned over and spoke softly,
“You go, girl! Zez Confrey[i]
is a lot of fun, isn’t he?”
Mom nodded and kept “playing.” A
few moments later she suddenly stopped, looked at me almost in panic and
whimpered, “Where’s the music?” Mom knew something important was missing; that
there should have been different results coming from the effort she was putting
forth.
That feeling like there should be
different results from one’s efforts is all too common among the neighbors we
serve at the Mission.
Will has training and experience
as a groundskeeper. He’s a veteran. Yet he lacks education, and his drinking
has hurt him both physically and psychologically. He came to our Resource
Advocate Program (RAP) a couple of months ago to apply for food stamps and to
get a free cup of coffee. He took steps to become more self-sufficient, trying
to more fully engage the social net that the Pikes Peak Region can offer. He
kept applying for jobs with no success, and he had reasons why: “The economy’s
just too tough… I just can’t find the people who truly appreciate what I do… I’m
a hard worker, but that doesn’t matter anymore.”
Just as Mom needed a piano to
achieve her desired results a few weeks ago, Will needed something more to
achieve his desired results: sobriety. Ongoing encounters with his RAP case manager
made it clear that his problem was not the economy, but his drinking. He was
going through many of the “right” motions, but without clear progress toward
sobriety, he’d never find the results he wanted.
So he’s making the changes he can
to move toward the reality that is sobriety. Will’s attending AA. He’s voluntarily
entered a local intensive outpatient treatment and moved into a halfway house
with peers who will keep him accountable.
Will shows us the AA coins that
mark new milestones of sobriety when he drops by. The clouds have left his
eyes. There is greater clarity in his thinking. Now he takes responsibility for
his situation.
It isn’t over yet, but Will is
getting what he needs to find the music.
