Fly Me to the Moon

Coloring

It’s late afternoon, and I’m sitting at the dining room table with my mom, coloring in our adult coloring books. 

“We’re really losing it,” my mom teases me, when we start in on this activity, formerly reserved for young children at restaurants, not women over 60.  “Nah, ma, it’s supposed to be good for our brains,” I tell her.

Eager to see if the act of coloring could promote mindfulness and induce a meditative state, I scored us some coloring books and sets of beautiful crayon pencils. This year in the U.S., people purchased 12 million adult coloring books with themes ranging from stress relieving geometric patterns to animal designs to expansive doodles of landscapes, forests, and gardens.  It’s a full blown “thing.”

Coloring involves both logic (by picking up a color for a specific shape or pattern we activate the brain’s analytic part) and creativity (by choosing, mixing, and matching colors we exercise our creative side).  It stimulates areas of the cerebral cortex that control our vision, coordination, and fine motor skills. It helps us “de-concentrate,” reduces anxiety, and quiets the chatter of our noisy minds.

As my mom selects shades of green and blue and purple to color a picture of a fish swimming in a coral reef, and I use orange, red, fuchsia, and yellow crayons to fill in a complex mandala, we listen to the Pandora playlist of Frank Sinatra tunes on the iPad.

“You make me feel so young

You make me feel so spring has sprung

And every time I see you grin

I'm such a happy individual.”

She sings out that last line, “I’m such a happy in-di-vid-ual” right along with Frank, and it occurs to me that in the moment, she is happy, and that she, miraculously, is remembering all the lyrics to the songs we hear.

Her memory is failing fast, with her ability to communicate in such decline that often I have no clue what she is trying to tell me; yet here she sits, across from me, bypassing her medial temporal lobe and activating the left side of her brain to come up with every single word.  Musical processing requires no cognitive function.

“Unforgettable 

In every way, 

And forever more 

That's how you'll stay. 

That's why, darling, it's incredible 

That someone so unforgettable 

Thinks that I am 

Unforgettable, too”

“Way, stay.” “Incredible, unforgettable.” Rhythm, rhyme, and melody provide structure and order, forming reinforceable patterns that transcend ordinary speech. Music facilitates the return of lost brain functions and revives timing mechanisms, word-finding ability, recognition memory, and even some short-term memory. 

“Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me”

She repeats the lyrics, so pleased with herself. She knows the words.  She knows she knows the words. Yes!

I am frequently at a loss for what to do with my mom, as she is with herself.  I get calls at 7:00 a.m. from her, asking me “what am I supposed to do?” “Just do your day, Mom,” I reassure her, “Get dressed, you’ll go down for breakfast, then go to exercise class, and then have lunch.” 

Spaced-out, vacant, there and not there, these are ways I would describe the woman I previously knew as intelligent, intense, and judgmental.  My mom had difficulty being present for me in my life; and now, towards the end of hers, in her almost childlike way, she demands my presence.

Psychologists talk about the ambiguous loss one experiences when a family member suffers from dementia. Physical presence and psychological absence.  My ninja therapist tells me that I should add another “a” word – ambivalent.  I am experiencing ambivalent, ambiguous loss.   Some days in my unresolved grief, I think, just get me the hell outta here, please just fly me to the moon.

But despair lifts, as we sit together today, coloring and listening to the music. Coloring connects us to our inner child and does seem to help break negative thinking patterns. It lets us tap into unconditional love.  As the neurologist Oliver Sachs noted, “Music evokes emotion, and emotion can bring with it memory…it brings back the feeling of life when nothing else can.” 

“Love is all that I can give to you

Love is more than just a game for two

Two in love can make it

Take my heart and please don't break it

Love was made for me and you.”