It’s happened to all of us at one time. We could be in a car or watching a movie when a song comes on and lights up our memory bank.

Suddenly, we are transported to a moment from the past that resonates with such a powerful memory, that we pause.  Music can do that and we become lost in that memory.

Studies have shown that regular and musical memories are stored in different parts of our brains. Psychologists have shown that the musical ones find a home in the most resilient area of our brain as we age.

I have seen that up close and personal.

Many years ago, while on a short regional tour, I performed at a memory care house in Gurnee, Illinois. When I arrived, I noticed that the seven-member staff nearly outnumbered the residents while I set up in a small living room setting. One lady stood out and I asked to be introduced to her.

She was in a motorized chair operated by staff, was non-verbal, and was barely able to move on her own. The director of the home told me that she had never spoken in the five years she had been there, as I said hello and touched her shoulder. She raised her gaze at me but neither moved, nor spoke.

Near the end of my performance, I was singing Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” and approached her during the “touching me, touching you” part of the song. I slowly moved toward her with my index finger at full arm’s length.

Her arm slowly began to move, her finger began to extend, and she reached to touch the tip of my finger with hers. That’s when the true magic and miracle of music happened, and she jumped as if she had just been shocked with a lightning bolt.

She sat up and began to sing.

No one in the house had ever heard her voice until that night and the collective gasps in the room were powerful. Tears flowed, hugs happened, and a beautiful voice shackled in silence suddenly awakened.

She remained verbal for another month before fading back into darkness, but the miraculous power of music cannot be underestimated.