Gordon Nicholson sits quietly in a wheelchair while the sounds of Christmas carols surround him. He may nod off sometimes, he may not know all the lyrics, he may not be able to burst into his favourite song, 'What a Wonderful World', like he used to, but he is not alone here. And neither is his family.
Before a fall down steps caused a serious brain injury, Gordon would usually bust out a ukulele at Christmas and bring people of all faiths together to celebrate togetherness. If anyone asked him how he was doing, he would tell them he was full of joy.
He now requires round-the-clock care from two support workers and his verbal communication and mobility have deteriorated since the fall at Auckland's Cornwall Park three years ago. At the time, his family was told he likely only had a year to live.
Now, his daughter Margot sits hand in hand with the 92-year-old, gazing at him as she sings a medley of carols with the CeleBRation Choir. The choir brings together people of all ages who have a neurological condition for a special music therapy session at Auckland's Elizabeth Knox Home and Hospital.
"Dad has always loved music," Margot says.
"It was his way of destressing and he used to play the piano, but he'd also go and do gigs with mum, they would grab people and teach them how to play the ukulele."
She recalls constantly being in tears when they first started the choir as she reminisced on the significance of Christmas to her family and father.
The choir has now become a place for her and her mother to heal as they find mutual understanding, acceptance and process their feelings in what can often be an isolating experience of providing care and support.
"It's really hard for people who have had brain injuries to go to places and feel safe, and this place is full of love and safety but most importantly we have a lot of fun and joy and connection," Margot says.
"Out of things that aren't so good comes joy and happiness."
"Life hasn't been easy with him after [the serious brain injury]," Jocelyn says.
"We had a good life before and now he can't do anything. So coming here is a bonus. We've enjoyed coming with Margot and seeing her regularly and seeing Gordon part of the group here."
Music therapy can intertwine and harmonise the rhythm of hearts with a single tune, Alison Talmage says. She co-founded the choir at the University of Auckland's Centre for Brain Research in 2009.
"Just getting here initially was a huge goal, just to be able to get in the car and be amongst people, but as time went on, he seemed to relax more and enjoy being here. He sometimes will quietly just hold your hand and pulse your hand in time to the music, at times he's sung," Margot says.
"There are times when he'd have tears in his eyes because he loves it - it doesn't happen very often, but it does happen," Jocelyn says.
While singing 'Te Harinui', Margot's hand caresses Gordon's, tapping on it to the rhythm of music, her voice softly singing the lyrics near his ear, and her heart forever remembering who he is - the man who raised her, and the one who married Jocelyn 65 years ago.
'I am still me', Talmage writes in her poem, inspired by Gordon's life and music therapy journey. It still brings Margot to tears when she thinks of the words.
"That was an incredible experience for us all because [Alison] was singing that song and he then looked intently at mum and he and mum really connected and there were little tears - I think actually in both of their eyes, but certainly mine as well," Margot says.
"It's lovely, it really is, it reminds you that whatever they're like, they've had a life and they're still themselves," Jocelyn says.
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