Life has a way of lulling us into a sense of normalcy, until an unexpected event throws everything into sharp relief. For my family, that moment arrived about a year ago when my mother’s dementia progressed, ushering in a significant new chapter.
Dementia’s impact is deeply personal, unfolding at its own pace and in its own way. For Mom, it began with subtle word-finding difficulties, moments easily navigated by a family who knew her heart. This phase lasted for months before behavioral changes began to emerge.
While I want to honor Mom’s privacy, these changes eventually necessitated a move to a residential care facility. It was a heartbreaking decision for my siblings and me, but one driven by the need for specialized care that my father, her beloved husband of sixty years, couldn’t provide around the clock. Their cherished travels across seven continents were now on hold, a poignant reminder of what dementia can steal.
We found a wonderful facility near my parents’ home, allowing for daily visits from Dad and my sister. Dad’s devotion was unwavering; he’d bring Mom home for precious hours each day. My brother and I, though living further away, visited as often as possible. Mom was surrounded by love.
Yet, as she settled in, a new challenge arose: the frustration and loneliness that can accompany dementia and being in a care setting. This sparked a crucial question in my mind: How many seniors grapple with this isolation? Do they miss the simple joys of the past – music, hobbies, connection? My observations and research confirmed that loneliness is a significant issue for many as they age.
Something needed to change.
I began to think about how I could bring a little more happiness into the lives of seniors. Music had always been a powerful force in our family. I have vivid memories of Mom singing along to Whitney Houston in the car, her joy filling the space. I even followed my father’s musical path. Combining my love of music with my decade of experience in the nonprofit world, an idea took root: musical performances for seniors.
While I’m full of ideas, execution isn’t always my strength. Thankfully, I had a long-time musical partner, Sheryl B. (now CEO of Musical Memories), who shared my passion for music and serving seniors, and possessed the drive to make this vision a reality. She took the concept and ran with it.
Our first performance was at Mom’s care facility. We weren’t sure what to expect, but Sheryl and I had rehearsed tirelessly to create an engaging and joyful experience. The response was incredible. Smiles lit up faces, and other residents raved to Mom about the music. The staff’s positive feedback, relayed by Dad, solidified our purpose.
We began performing at other facilities in the Bay Area, witnessing the same heartwarming joy and receiving enthusiastic requests to return. We expanded to interactive workshops like drum circles, which were always a hit.
Now, almost a year later, Musical Memories is a recognized 501(c)(3) nonprofit.
Our mission is just beginning. We plan to expand our team of musicians and the variety of our programs, confident that our impact on bringing musical joy to seniors will be significant. If we can bring a smile to even one senior’s face, we’ve succeeded.
But we can’t do this alone. We need your help to amplify our impact. Please consider donating or volunteering with Musical Memories. Let’s work together to ensure seniors feel valued, connected, and that the music never truly fades.


I’m so sorry, Ben, but what an amazing thing you’re doing. I know first-hand what dementia can do to a family. My wife’s grandmother of 95 years now lives with us and requires full-time care.
Please send my love to the whole family.