The Web


Ruth stared at the web, twiddling her fingers and humming.  Over and over the same gestures and the same melody.  Her voice was cracked, her hand so arthritic that her fingers barely moved.

“What is she thinking?” whispered Ellen, Ruth’s daughter.

“Hard to say,”responded the nurse.  We don’t  know, at this advanced stage, if there is any cognition.”

Ellen’s son, who was eight, walked up to his grandmother.

“Hi, Grammy. Can I sing with you?”

No response.

So Brady started singing, using his hands to do the motions.

“The itsy bitsys spider went up the water spout. . . ”

Ruth smiled.





88 thoughts on “The Web

  1. I remember well, when working with people suffering from dementia in a psychiatric unit, how often music triggered memories in my clients when nothing else could do so. It would often lift their mood, too, although sometimes it brought tears to their eyes, but not necessarily sad tears, as they were often smiling while crying.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is such a touching way to approach a very devastating illness that affects everyone who has ever known the person but; especially, family. I know someone with dementia and it is a theif in the night disease. I pray they discover ways of curing this. A superb story, Linda.
    Isadora 😎

    Liked by 1 person

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