The Music Man

Frank has been calling me a lot lately. His good friend, Abe has been suffering from dementia for years, but since the loss of Abe's wife it's gotten much, much worse. Abe no longer walks to Frank's house for their daily talks and when he does come over, he repeats much of the same things. Frank's feeling extremely lonely and I get many messages from him saying, "Hey, Menachem. Where have you been? Give me a call as soon as you can." When I do call he tells me, "I have no one to talk to," and apologizes for having to call me. I tell him that he's a friend and to call me whenever he wants but Frank doesn't like to be a burden.

I try my best to make time for Frank. I like him a lot and although my life's been getting busier, I know I can find an hour or two to spend with him a week. He deserves it. I gave him some CD's a few weeks ago, and he asked me to come over to hear him play Fiddler on the Roof on his stereo. He told me that I'd never hear music sound like this. He built the system himself and he's very proud of it. Anyone who comes over to his house is placed into Frank's chair in the middle of the room and treated to music playing out of the speakers surrounding the room. And, Frank gets so much pleasure listening to music--you can see it in his face. I listened to half the album and started to get up. Frank stopped me and told me it wasn't done yet. I'm not great at sitting still for long periods of time but I sat back down, leaned back in the chair, and learned to appreciate having nothing to do but listen to music.