Girl Power, Bad Breakups, and Memory Loss: The Music Therapy no one recommends (But Should)
Girl Power, Bad Breakups, and Memory Loss: The Music Therapy No One Recommends (But Should)
Music Therapy in Memory Care: When the Playlist Blows Up Your Life (Until It Doesn’t)
In memory care, everyone has an opinion.
Try this. Never do that. How dare you not try this? Why would you ever try that?
You end up exhausted, caffeinated, and quietly wondering if any of these people giving advice have actually lived with a human in cognitive decline—or if they just read about it in a workbook.
One of the big, shiny suggestions? Music therapy.
“Music reaches the parts of the brain that words can’t.”
Sometimes that’s wonderful. Other times, it means we’re about to drag old, unresolved pain into the living room with a Bluetooth speaker and a smile. #buckleup
When Music Therapy Went Spectacularly Wrong
Three years ago, music therapy was a hard no for us.
A professional picked the playlist. You can probably guess the problem. It was all about “music from her era,” as if the year on your birth certificate is the only thing that defines your soul.
Instead of soft nostalgia and sweet memories, the songs pulled up:
Old wounds
Hard feelings
Buried stories no one asked to relive
The result?
Chaos. Destructive patterns. Behaviors that made people around us uneasy and left me feeling completely overwhelmed.
We stopped everything.
No more sessions. No more carefully curated “golden hits.” No more “therapeutic” sing‑alongs that lit emotional landmines.
We moved on and decided music therapy was great in theory but emotionally too much in practice. #fuckit
Fast Forward: Same Brain, New Vibe
Today? We’re back to music.
Same diagnosis. Same history. Same complicated, fiercely independent human.
But now, music therapy actually… works.
It’s not that the disease improved. It’s not that the system changed.
The difference is the atmosphere.
We stopped using the nostalgic, “isn’t this sweet?” playlists and switched to songs with attitude, dark humor, breakup anthems, and bold energy.
This is not:
“You Are My Sunshine” on repeat
The Mamas & the Papas
ABBA’s Greatest Hits
This is:
Jessi Murph
Lizzo
Songs with edge, energy, and zero interest in being “nice.”
Now, we have a 78‑year‑old woman enjoying life, almost like a teenager who still hasn’t gotten over how a relationship ended 40 years ago.
And honestly? It’s working.
The Coffee That Isn’t Coffee (But Absolutely Is)
Helping all this along: a daily ritual I like to call delusional coffee.
She “doesn’t do sugar” and “doesn’t drink fancy coffee,” so naturally, we have:
Warm milk
A generous mountain of whipped cream (sweet, obviously)
A dramatic amount of cinnamon
No coffee.
But if you use your imagination, it feels like a cinnamon dolce treat. It’s not exactly accurate, but it’s full of comfort. #starbucks #whateverworks
Is it dessert? Is it a drink? Is it a little emotional support in a mug?
Yes.
It’s like a Starbucks barista smiling politely while being told the coffee is great but too expensive, and quietly wondering if she made the “no coffee” order right.
Whatever. She’s happy. I’m calm. That’s the win.
Our Current Soundtrack: Less Sweet, More Spite
Right now, the core playlist looks like this:
“Still Bad” – Lizzo
Our new anthem. Girl power, old resentment, and feelings that seem as fresh as if they happened today.“Dance Monkey” – Tones and I
Strange voice, unusual energy, surprisingly fun. She loves it. I put up with it. That’s how it goes.“Dream Machine”
Reggae‑ish feel, sharp cymbals, 808s. A bit dreamy and also grounding.“Holy Ground” – Jessi Murph
Tender, honest, and just edgy enough to match the mood.“Let the Drummer Kick” – Citizen Cope
Moody, rhythmic, building slowly in a way that works.“Exes” / revolving‑door breakup vibes – Tate McRae
Perfect for those moments when you’re still upset about something from the past.
What’s out?
The Mamas & the Papas
ABBA
Anything the system says she should love just because it fits on a dementia care handout
Here’s the thing no one tells you:
In memory care, the past and present are scrambled, but the emotional tone is very current.
The brain might be stuck somewhere between 1958 (the year her mom took her life and the step‑monster entered for realz) and 1998, but the feelings are right now.
And the mood at this stage is definitely:
“Don’t tell me how to live.”
with a side of:
“Yes, ma’am—but also absolutely not.”
The Rule: Pay Attention to the Person, Not the Brochure
Here’s what we’ve learned about music in memory care:
You don’t actually know what they’ll like.
Age, decade, and diagnosis do not decide the playlist.What hurt before might help later.
The same kind of music that once brought up old pain might, years later, help that pain find a place to go.“Calm” music isn’t always calming.
Sometimes the quiet, gentle songs bring up the worst memories. Sometimes the loud, messy, “I’m still mad about it” songs help them feel understood.
So here’s the practical part:
Turn on the damn radio or your streaming app.
Pick something.
Watch what happens.
If the mood stays fun, the jokes come out, the stories are lively but not harmful, and the room feels lighter, keep the playlist going. Let it feel “brand new” every time.
If the energy changes—if the stories get dark, the anger turns inward, or the room feels heavy in a way you now recognize—change the song.
No guilt. No overthinking. If it’s not working, just make a change.
What Didn’t Work Then Might Save You Later
Three years ago, music therapy felt like a weapon.
Today, with the right playlist and a mug of pretend coffee, it’s one of the few things that reliably:
Lightens the room
Creates connection
Gives all those tangled feelings somewhere safe to land
If you’re in the thick of it, here’s the real takeaway:
Don’t write something off forever just because it went badly once.
Don’t let the system’s idea of “appropriate” dictate your loved one’s joy.
Don’t be afraid of a little rage, a little sass, and a lot of girl power.
In memory care, you can’t control much.
But you can control the playlist.
And sometimes, that’s enough to turn a tough afternoon into something you can get through—maybe even a little bit beautiful in its own fucked‑up way.
Why This Story Matters (for the Series)
The creamer post shows how a simple store run turns into an emotional minefield. The boundaries post shows how you become the villain for protecting her.
This chapter is about joy with teeth: how the right song, the wrong decade, and a fake cinnamon dolce can shift the whole day.
It’s not the music the system recommends. It’s the music that actually works—for her, right now.
And that’s the only playlist that counts.
