Maureen McGovern: Creating hope in life with dementia

 

Maureen McGovern was a 23-year-old folk singer in 1972 when she was chosen to record “The Morning After” for The Poseidon Adventure.  The song and movie became megahits and launched her four-decade career as a concert performer, recording artist and Broadway musical theatre actress. All of that changed several years ago when she was diagnosed with posterior cortical atrophy and symptoms of Alzheimer’s and/or dementia. It hasn’t stopped her from singing, though, and she continues her efforts to bring joy to others.  She spoke by Zoom with a writer for Alzheimer’s TODAY about her life back home in Ohio and the projects she has planned.

 

How did your diagnosis come about?  Were you experiencing symptoms and decided to check them out?

For five or six or more years before it was little things. “I know this song. Why did I forget the words?” I made a joke out of it in shows. It kept building.

Have you/how have you adjusted to the diagnosis?

I moved to an independent senior residence. I had to get rid of so much. I didn’t want to let go. It was hard and frustrating to leave the place where I had been.

Now I am grateful for where I am. I live on the fifth floor with a great view. There’s a 90-year-old man here who plays the piano. A couple of times a year he’ll play, and I’ll sing. It’s been hard to adjust but I’m more comfortable now. At least knowing where I am as far as the sickness. I know many people are going through this, too. I want to write a book.

I read that you can no longer travel or perform in concerts. Can you sing and do you?

I sing a lot in my apartment to keep the pipes in order. The neighbors are very happy. I have large cards with all the words on them.

I’ve actually sung in many, many hospices. That’s always been a part of my heart. There was a grandmother in her last moments. I thought, “Oh, my God, what can I do to help her?” You could feel the sadness in everybody’s heart. The kids said she liked country music, so I did a little ditty for her. I got to a certain point and we heard a soft “whoo, whoo, whoo” sound. The beauty of that. The children and family were crying tears of joy. A simple thing like that is wonderful. I understand people even more now.   

I sang in a women’s prison. A woman sent me a letter to say I changed her life. For that moment – they are stuck in coops over there – they light up like candles.

What is your biggest challenge?

Not knowing exactly what is in the future. I try to see every day as a gift and keep moving on and trying to help other people.

Are you still writing children’s music?

I’m writing some. I had done that years ago and there’s stuff I haven’t dealt with in a while. I want to do that.

What else are you working on now?

Through the years I performed for charities. That kept me going. I miss doing that. I’d like to do more. I worked for the Muscular Dystrophy Association for three decades and HIV-AIDS and the American Music Therapy Association.

I’m talking to my music conductor, Jeff Harris. I want to record inspirational songs. I can’t wait to make a recording in the studio. I’ve been in the house so long. Maybe it will do some good.

You said you will be working to bring more attention to music therapy. How are you doing this?

When children are in a funk you just start music and they just lift up their souls. That’s what I’d like to bring them.

In 1972, on Christmas Eve – I’d done a concert the day before – I was asked to stay and go to a hospital. I thought, “That will be fun.” Kids were in cribs. The babies didn’t know anything about me but the parents needed that so badly. They came and hugged me. Something as innocent as that can change somebody for even a moment.

I want to become helpful any way I can. That’s what I’m looking forward to, that kind of thing. I may not be able to do this or that, but I know how to deal with this the best I can, when I can make someone else happy.

You said you slowly realized that your inner life has not changed, that Alzheimer’s/dementia is not going to stop you from living your life.  What does this mean for you now? What do you mean by “inner life”?

What we keep inside, above the chest. Your soul. I keep things with me. I try to remember things that were very important to me and I’m always trying to fix somebody else in their dilemma. I know all that’s still inside me.

My interview with Maureen McGovern appears in the March cover story for Alzheimer’s TODAY magazine.