The Dolphin Drum

“Where’s my drum?” Miss Yvonne asked as I walked into the memory care residence pulling a crate full of percussion instruments behind me. I had worked as a therapeutic musician at this facility for seven years and considered each resident a friend.

Miss Yvonne, who was in the late stages of Alzheimer’s, loved the drum with the blue dolphins painted on it and even refused all other instruments. She would trace the dolphin images with her fingers, sometimes sharing a memory about the ocean. It made her happy.

“Your drum’s right here, Miss Yvonne,” I said, digging through the crate. It was then I realized I’d forgotten the drum in my rush to be on time!

“Well, where is it?” she asked, growing agitated.

God, I prayed, what should I say? Would she be able to understand my oversight? Or would it cause her more distress and anxiety?

“Miss Yvonne,” I finally said with a sigh, “I’m so sorry. I was running late today and forgot your drum. Can you forgive me?”

Her face fell, but then she reached out and patted my arm. “It’s okay,” she said. “We all make mistakes.”

This was a remarkable, cognizant response from someone in the later stages of Alzheimer’s! Truly a grace-filled moment. And it was a reminder to me that God uses not only our gifts, but also our weaknesses, to heal and to help those we care for.