Love Is Stronger Than Loss

Messages in song by Daniel C. Potts, MD, FAAN

(This is a project of Cognitive Dynamics Foundation, bringing art to life for those living with dementia and care partners)

Orchestral and choral arrangements, mixing and production by Brandon Blanchard (brandonblanchardmusic.com), piano and vocals by Daniel C. Potts

From my own experience assisting my mother as a secondary care partner for my father during his journey with Alzheimer’s, and from the many patients and care partners I have come to know in the practice of neurology, I am increasingly convinced of the power of love in care partner relationships to provide comfort, healing, and security, no matter the situation. This also may be seen with professional care partners, such as those who work in care settings where persons with dementia reside.

The narrative of dementia includes tragedy and triumph, downdrafts and uplifts, pain and joy. To deny this is to try and turn reality into something it is not. It seems that those who allow love to direct the care partnership are able to keep dancing inside the music of the whole story. It is beautiful to see this kind of transformation and resilience in a care partnership.

In this vein, the following songs bear witness to love that does not die, that is brave enough to meet every circumstance, that is vulnerable enough to cry, but still come out singing, dancing, living. These songs may seem sad at first pass, but my hope is that one will see, in the words and music, a love that grows through the cracks of the sorrows that cover it, that rests like a beautiful rosebud on the hallowed ground of care partnerships, that never forgets the name of a loved one, that bears the light of comfort and familiarity into every dark night, that points, ultimately, to the Love of God that creates, sustains, and always remembers.

These songs are dedicated to the care partners, both those who are living with dementia, and those without dementia who love them.

Gratitude is expressed to Brandon Blanchard (BrandonBlanchardMusic) for his excellent recording, mixing, mastering skills, and his heart for creating beautiful projects, and to his mother, Cheryl Blanchard of Alzheimer’s Tennessee, who connected us.

(Clicking on the title of each song will take you to a Youtube link where you may listen to a recording of the song.)

Midnight Angel

An estimated one third to one half of all persons who have dementia are living alone. Due to the isolating effects of the disease, many who are not living alone may often feel lonely. This song attempts to bring light to the experience of persons living with dementia who are lost in the shadows of loneliness, but have found one who comes to comfort them when they need it most. They have learned to trust that this “midnight angel” will come in the night, just as at times of loneliness or loss in childhood. In this song, one can feel the comfort of a hope that is rooted in the past, but looks forward to a future when loneliness, and even the losses associated with dementia, itself, will all be wiped away. Perhaps this is a nostalgic return to the comforts of childhood; maybe, a re-visioning of a place we have seen before. This midnight angel may be a messenger, in the present, of that blessed ‘sometime’ of solace lying up ahead.

Midnight angel, if you hear me, wing my way. I’m alone again, like I was yesterday. When you came last time I called you, I forgot you’d flown away. Guess that’s how it is with things you want to stay.
Midnight angel, I remember long ago when I glimpsed you through my window, flying low, and you must have heard me crying when my heart was hurting so, ’cause you left a bit of Heaven here below…some Heaven here below. Midnight angel, you have come back through the years, when I couldn’t see you flying, for my tears. Now I’m old and no one knows this little boy disguised by years that still needs someone to love away his fears.
(Chorus)
Midnight angel, I’m so thankful you’re my friend. And I bless the Lord above that He would send one so loving, kind, and faithful as I near the journey’s end, and I see the lights of home around the bend.
Midnight angel, let me sing a song to you. For your kindness, it’s the least that I can do. I suspect that even angels need someone to listen to. So I’ll share a little lullaby with you… let me share this little lullaby with you.

My Champion Tree

This song speaks from the experience of a care partner whose spouse with dementia is nearing the end of her earthly life, perhaps, under palliative care at home, or in a hospice facility. The care partner recalls a time in his own life when he was lost, and experiencing a dark night of the soul. In the depth of his despair, his spouse came with a grace that reminded him of who he was, and always would be, by the power of love. She knew his song, and sang it to him when he’d forgotten it. She showed him back to himself. Because she loved him unconditionally, and had mercy, empathy and compassion, her eyes spoke to him the message that he could not speak to himself. Thus, her gracious gift planted a tree of love, vibrant and green, in the soil of his heart. And, as the tree grew, he came to rest in its sheltering shade. Years later, as her time for departure draws near, he promises to be strong for her, to give her something stable to hold onto in her own dark night. He then realizes that the sapling of love that she planted deep within him in his weakness has become his champion tree, standing tall and true in the forest of fear that can surround care partners when doubt and death cast their shadows. And her love, the love that had found him when he was lost, gives him the strength to be there for her when she “comes to that river.” Of course, this song is also a metaphor for the love of God, which often finds us in the depths of our despair through the lives of those who truly love us.

One day, long ago when the stars in my soul had faded into a thousand black holes,
and all that remained of the life I had known had fallen right through some wax paper throne,
you walked down the road to the spot where I lay and said with your eyes what my mouth couldn’t say.
And all I could see was a halo of light when the inside of me was as black as the night.
You lifted me up with your sweet, gentle grace. You wrote out my name on the lines of your face,
and planted your tree in the soil of my heart. From its sheltering shade I will never depart.
Now your heavenly flight comes like soft, summer rain, leaving pools in my heart that have nowhere to drain.
But I promise to be something strong you can hold as your green leaves in me turn to russet and gold.
And the vision I see in the gray of the year is your champion tree in my forest of fear.
(Chorus) So, you won’t be afraid when you come to that river. I’ll be standing right by, but I’ll let you fly into the arms of the Giver.
So, I won’t be afraid ‘cause Love keeps us together. What’s true never dies, it just takes to the skies for that deep blue forever… for the deep blue forever.

Come On, Join the Choir

This is a song of hope, invitation, inclusion, and belonging. Persons living with dementia, like all of us, at times, may feel as if no one knows them, as if they don’t belong in the place where they find themselves. Perhaps they, we, hear singing, but feel like the only ones who don’t know the words or recognize the tune, left out and forgotten. But there are others who care about us, who will show us back to a familiar place, who have saved us a choir robe, and who want to harmonize with us. A place where everyone knows our names, the sound of our true voices, and where others want us to be with them. They need us, and we can feel that. There seems to be a celebration, and we are the honored guests. As it turns out, we knew the song all along, because it’s ours. And we have been brought home by the love of those who care about us. More broadly, this is a song about all of us, about finding out that home resides in each one of us, and that it takes all of our voices to make the choir complete.

Sunrise on another Sunday morning.
Somewhere there’s been music all along.
Someone’s got a robe for your adorning.
Come on, join the choir. I think you know the song.
Surely now you’ve had your taste of trouble.
Maybe you’ve grown tired of feeling wrong.
Hungry for a portion, you’ll get double.
Come on, join the choir. I think you know the song.
Loneliness has been your habitation.
Even shadows die when light is gone.
At sunrise, there’ll be a celebration.
Come on, join the choir. I think you know the song.
(Chorus)
Someone wants to see you. Someone knows your name.
Someone wants to sing away the sorrow and the shame.
Listen for the voices. The sound is pure and true.
Someone wants to harmonize with you.
Sunrise on another Sunday morning.
Somewhere looks an awful lot like home.
Angels join your anthem of adorning.
Come on, join the choir. Listen for the choir.
Oh, come on, join the choir…
And you can lead the song.

Mama

Persons who are living with dementia sometimes speak of spending time with loved ones who are deceased. This may be interpreted as a hallucination or a delusion—a fixed, false belief that someone may be still alive in the present. But there is another interpretation. The person with dementia may have a deep need, at that moment, to be in the presence of a cherished loved one. Perhaps they are in the throes of loneliness or confusion, everything is unfamiliar, and they feel forgotten. Maybe there are even times when they forget themselves, when their identity fades into the fog-bound background of advancing cognitive impairment. It is possible that there are unresolved issues in the relationship that, as one ages, need to be revisited and repaired. Often, a parent or other loved one has been their refuge from life’s storms, a comforting presence of unconditional love upon which they have depended time and again, and that experience of trust fulfilled can be revisited when there is a deep need for that kind of security. “I need my mother. I need her to be here with me, right now. I’m so lost and afraid. Mama, please, can you hear me? Come to me. Help me.” This song attempts to touch and give voice to that experience from the standpoint of a person who is living with dementia.

Mama, please, can you hear me calling you tonight?
I’m here alone, nobody else in sight.
Yes, my dear, I have heard you. I’m here. Turn out the light.
I’ll sing you a lullaby. Everything’s all right.
Mama, do you remember rocking me to sleep,
and asking the Lord, in safety, my soul to keep?
Yes, my dear, I remember those visions dark and deep.
I’ll hold them forever, safe, in my heart, to keep.
Mama, sometimes I seem to simply fade away.
Nothing’s familiar. Nobody looks my way.
Darling, I’ll come to hold you when others walk away.
I’ll whisper your name; together, we’ll be OK.
(Chorus)
Mama, I want to thank you from my heart, today.
You always come to carry my fear away.
Darling, I’ll always love you. And love drives fear away.
Whenever you feel afraid, think of me, then pray.

When You’re Lost

This song attempts to speak comfort to persons living with dementia from the standpoint of God, the Higher Power, the Holy Spirit, Jesus, or another name for the Being in whom they have trusted, or perhaps, have never trusted before, but who comes in their deepest need with the words of Love. When they are lost and searching for the touch of something familiar, as if for the features they could recognize as being the dearest, most comforting face in the world, there is assurance that they will find themselves surrounded by Love. That Love will never be one of the losses that has seemed to define them in their journey through dementia. This One who always will know their name, and who will read back to them from the stories of their lives, has come to remind them that they are claimed for all eternity, forever found in Love’s embrace. I believe that there are deep comforts in the hearts of those who are going through dementia. Too deep to be seen by others, perhaps, but only felt in the silent spaces within. Comforts of assurance that they will never be forgotten, and that home is always inside them, where Love has made its dwelling, forever. Again and again, dementia is no match for Love. (For this song, I have borrowed a melody from Paul Stookey, and arranged a piano part for the lyric).

When you’re lost inside the shadows of an unfamiliar place and you feel the dark around you for the features of a face, there’s a light that warms and hallows every ‘God-forsaken’ space, so the darkness won’t confound you as you rest in the embrace of My Love…of My Love. There’s no fog bank of confusion, no wilderness of fear that can hide you from the Spirit’s eye and make you disappear. For fear is an illusion that Love has come to clear; when your mind is in collusion with those voices that you hear, I’ll speak Love… I’ll speak Love.
(Chorus)
In the twilight of your memories I will light a living flame, and I’ll read to you the chapters of the book that bears your name. For the person I have named you is the one you’ll always be. And My boundless grace has claimed you for a bright eternity in my Love… in my Love.

Here

Written from the perspective of a spousal care partner, this song has two stanzas. The first speaks of a time after the diagnosis of dementia has first been realized, and the future of the couple’s life with dementia, considered. The care partner here is trying to describe their love for each other by using illustrative metaphors, attesting to its beauty, depth, breadth and resiliency. One can imagine dementia being no match for a love like this, seeking the light in every moment though realizing there may be some when the darkness is utterly pervasive. Stanza one gives assurance to the person living with dementia, and perhaps, to the care partner himself or herself, that they can hold onto this very special love, whatever lies in store. Stanza two is written later, after the journey through dementia has completed itself, a time which, in its own kind of way, can be very tough for care partners. Here, the care partner acknowledges the undying desire to be with the loved again in the flesh, to sense the presence of the soulmate in the present moments of life that must go on. The finality of the gravestone opens into the presence of the loved one drawn like a silvery thread of moonlight, the dancing in the movements of fireflies on a summer eve, singing at the heart of every melody that will ever be heard. Again and again, love always finds the ones who’ve flown away.

I
Deep as an ocean cavern, through and through, Strong as the tide that draws me out for you, Free as a sea bird soaring through the blue, Ours is a love that paints upon the sky.
Taut as an anchor steeled against the gale, True as a ship that homeward sets a-sail, Comfortable as salt water to a whale, Ours is a love that deepens bye and bye.
Still as a mountain-cradled alpine lake, Full as a mother’s heart about to break, Meek as a prisoner for mercy’s sake, Ours is a love that’s brave enough to cry.
Turning to face the storms that head our way, Pledging to hold each other, come what may, Knowing we may not find the light of day, Ours is a love that promises to try.
II
Here, in the silent spaces of the night, searching the sky for traces of your light, praying your face will consecrate my sight, I am forever yours, and you are mine.
Spirit of twilight, wing me to the sea; that’s where you promised you would wait for me, lifting the curtain to eternity, holding me in the sunset of your eyes.
If you can find a moment, will you sing something about a rosebud in the spring
lying upon the gravestone of a king? I’ll sing along, and promise not to cry…
You are the silver thread in every moon, You are the dancing fireflies in June, You are the lyrics paired with every tune… Love always finds the ones who’ve flown away.

My True Love

Love is about two becoming one. Bonds between care partners are always touching to me—child to parent, friend to friend, etc. But when I consider the spousal relationship that must turn to a care partnership when dementia enters the scene, this one moves me more than any. I have seen it many times; in the case of my own parents, first, and often in care partners I have encountered in my neurology practice. I cannot begin to imagine what they must be going through—the person living with dementia, who, at times, may not even recognize the one she loves and trusts most in the world, and perhaps can’t understand why this person who is with her cannot seem to make her feel better or improve the situation in which she finds herself. Then, the care partner spouse, perhaps unrecognized, perhaps maligned or accused of being unfaithful, unable to get a moment’s escape to care for his own needs, yet knowing with every fiber of his being that love for his spouse will hold, and will sustain them through all they will encounter. In this song, I am imagining such a care partnership in the few quiet hours before dawn. Perhaps the evening before had been very difficult, with sun downing, wandering, accusations, agitation, perhaps even aggression. Then, the pre-dawn miracle, the sweet gift of sleep. And in the short time before waking, the care partner looks tenderly at his spouse, hoping for peace and rest, affirming that they are secure in their love for each other, that love will hold them, gently, kindly. Promises made—to be faithful in sickness and health, to cleave to each other come what may—these will bear the onslaught of dementia. Then, the acknowledgement that failure is a part of every care partnership, and the unspoken need to hold oneself in a compassionate, forgiving embrace. And, to pray for the strength to keep on trying. What care partner has not caught herself envisioning a time when her loved one will be free of this pain, when losses will be restored, when everything will be familiar, when home will be found? Truth is, love was there at the beginning, is there through all the pain, and will be there at the end. No act of love is ever wasted. Love never forgets. Love cannot die.

Sleep, my dear; silence your mind.
Peace, my dear, let our hearts find.
Love will be our security,
gentle and kind,
gentle and kind.
Trust, my dear, promises made.
I am here, don’t be afraid.
In the night hope will be shining bright,
never to fade,
never to fade.
Morning light brushes the sky,
Dark of night rushes to die.
I will pray, though I may fail today,
ever to try,
ever to try.
Then, one day, you will be free;
fly away, Heaven to see.
My true love follows you up above
eternally,
eternally.

Here is a YouTube playlist of all 7 songs:

Love Is Stronger Than Loss