It's Dance Night every Friday at the Extendicare. The tables are moved to one side. The residents are arriving to form a circle, the majority in wheelchair's or walkers. The musicians are arriving. It can be anything from a band of eight or ten to a one man show.
The music begins to play all the old tunes. Feet began to tap and hands began to wave to the rhythm of the music. The volunteers get the wheelchairs out and it becomes quite a jovial site. Hands are going, big smiles are forming on their faces as they get swept across the floor.
My husband Steve was an accomplished musician. He could raise the standard of any vocalist with his piano playing. Lewy has stolen the majority of that special gift and has carried it off to some seclusive area of the brain. He has left enough for Steve's ear to pick up tunes but has robbed him completely of rhythm.
Tonight is a little special. Without any prompting, he takes my hand and starts to sway with the rhythm of the music. It's an amazing special moment and as quickly as it came it went away. Lewy does things like that. Until you become familiar with his meddling your hopes may be kindled to expect gradual improvements. You soon learn to enjoy that sentence that came with clarity, or a compliment such as; "I like your hair."
Tomorrow is another day with limited expectations.
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