BAD HABITS

BAD HABITS

(and other things that make my day)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While I understand that there are probably millions of people who don’t like music, I must confess, I haven’t met any – yet.

I guess you could say that in a way, music has always been a part of my life. As far back as I can remember, my mother always had her radio turned on. Her choices of music varied: forties (that was her era, after all), country, and classical.

Thinking back, it made sense to her choices of music. Her little tabletop RCA only had three stations that came in clearly, but to mom, it didn’t matter. She enjoyed each one, depending on her mood. Mom would either hum or sing along with each piece of music. Whether she ironed our clothes, cleaned the house, cooked our meals, whatever her chore, she made everything seem easy as she vocalized with her favorite tunes.

The small apartment that housed my parents, my brother and me was never quiet. There was always music. Well, that is until my father came home from work. It wasn’t because he didn’t like music, but mom felt after working all day, he should be entitled to some quiet and the privilege of turning on the television if that’s what he wanted to do. Often, he’d ask my mom to turn on the radio, always to the forties music that he could enjoy while we ate dinner. He preferred that station since he and my mom would go dancing whenever he was home on leave from the Navy.

My brother and I grew up to the sounds of brass, strings, and percussion while trying to visualize our feet moving rhythmically on the floor. Our dancing would come later as we progressed towards our teenage years.

Maybe mom hadn’t thought about it too much, but knowing mom, maybe she had. While we enjoyed listening to the music from mom’s little radio, my brother and I also seemed to have inherited mom’s love for music.

As my brother found his vocal cords and could masterfully sing to whatever he played on his guitar, I found that I had no voice for singing. Yet, we both learned musical instruments and shared the same sense of rhythm. To us, music wasn’t just a part of our home learning experiences, it was fun, something we thoroughly enjoyed.

Fast forwarding to this day and age, my old bones might creak, moan and groan a bit in protest now (yes, I’ve reached the middle of my seventh decade) but I still love to dance and do so as often as possible. I’ve joined a group of women who, like me, love to dance. We call ourselves the Dynamic Dancers. My friend and I decided to join the YMCA and make use of their Zumba groups. Because of these groups, I am able to have my weekly exercise programs, while having fun at each. Even at my age, music is still a major part of my life.

That’s part of the reason I had decided to incorporate some of the songs from my dance and Zumba classes into my job.

I’m a home healthcare aid and my patient has Alzheimer's Disease. She’s non-verbal and has lost approximately ninety-five percent of her comprehension. She also isn’t very fond of walking but, once I get her off her chair, I can get her to dance, even if it’s only for five or ten minutes. I’ll clarify her “dancing”.

To make his life easier, her husband (who is also my employer) installed in his home the Amazon Echo device. (It also makes my life a bit easier). Once I’m able to pull Eleanor out of her seat, I’ll say, “Echo, play Shivers by Ed Sheeran!.” She seems to love Ed Sheeran. Eleanor now smiles widely, grabs my hands, and swings them wildly back and forth. She rarely moves her feet as I try to get her dance, but she will begin walking in a circle.

Except - just yesterday. Once again, I was able to get her to stand and I said, “Echo, play Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran!” Again, Eleanor smiled, grabbed my hands, but this time, as she swayed back and forth, she began moving her feet. Okay, so her movements didn’t exactly coincide with the rhythm, but she was moving them from side to side as if she were trying to dance.

I was totally astonished and also completely pleased that the music is working so well for her.

It’s true that she won’t “dance” for very long. Her exercising might last only a few minutes, and then, we pace up and down her hallway until I see her begin to stumble. Then, I know it’s time for her to return to her rocking chair. Once she’s done “dancing,” she’s done for a few hours. She’ll sit and almost immediately, fall asleep. But for the fifteen to twenty minutes I have her up and moving, it’s enough to have her blood circulating through her butt and legs. Yes, I admit that I try to do this every so often during each day but there are times, that like Eleanor, even that part of her daily routine needs a break.

Because of this habit that I’ve instituted into her daily routine (I felt it necessary to start her on some kind of exercise program), it appears to me that as soon as I say the word “dance,” Eleanor smiles – as though she knows what we’re about to do. I certainly hope so.

In the meantime, between reading to her, telling her stories about my days from long ago when I first recognized my own appreciation for music, I’ll keep encouraging her dance to Shivers, Bad Habits, and any other songs that might get her moving. This week, maybe in addition to Shivers and Bad Habits, I’ll introduce her to The Shape of You by Ed Sheeran. His music seems to be her favorite, so I’ll just keep on asking Echo to play them.

I guess in a way:

Bad Habits has turned into something positive.