Dark and smokey cocktail lounge,
circa ‘39. Stirred her then, stirs her now.
Glassy-eyed, yet there is something.
She nails the invocation: last-chance love, slows the tempo, flawless bliss. Dayspring Memory Care becomes a love song, a melody with orchestra to boot, at quarter-past-two in the morning.
Hair moon-white, soft as fine kid gloves, she seeks the music. She floats on the bed. Tender tones lift her, reminiscence soars.
Then he joins her.
Her father, grandfather too, and cradled in their arms, she dances.
Copyright © Kelly Huntson and findingwhatssweet.com
Dedicated to all who suffer from Alzheimer’s disease and dementia, including those in my own family.
Never stop the music.💜
Fascinating article on vintage gloves if you’re interested: