Bring music, movement, memory, and connection to your care home!
Engaging music sessions to uplift and connect residents and carers
Engaging music sessions to uplift and connect residents and carers
.jpg/:/rs=w:1209,cg:true,m)
Dementia can take away words, confidence, and connection; but music often finds a way back in.
Re-Mind Music was born from seeing that happen first-hand: a familiar song bringing someone back into the room, a chorus unlocking a memory, a rhythm lifting a mood, a dance step reminding someone who they still are.
These sessions are designed for people living with dementia, using music not as background noise, but as a way to spark joy, movement, laughter, calm, and connection. Through singing, dancing, gentle exercise, instruments, and familiar songs, Re-Mind Music creates moments where residents are not simply cared for; they are involved, celebrated, and seen.
Re-Mind Music brings people back to themselves: one song at a time!
One of my clearest memories of Winifred (Granny Win) is watching her dance around the kitchen to Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley.
She would know every single word. The moment the music started, something changed: she was not just an older lady living with Alzheimer’s, she was young again, full of energy, rhythm, mischief, and life. She wou
One of my clearest memories of Winifred (Granny Win) is watching her dance around the kitchen to Jailhouse Rock by Elvis Presley.
She would know every single word. The moment the music started, something changed: she was not just an older lady living with Alzheimer’s, she was young again, full of energy, rhythm, mischief, and life. She would sing along proudly, moving around the kitchen as though nobody was watching, although we very much were.
The funny part is that she would often be ironing at the same time which, looking back, probably was not the ideal activity for a 90-year-old with Alzheimer’s. But that was Granny Win. Fiercely independent, determined to keep doing things her way, and somehow completely herself when the right song was playing.
In those moments, the music seemed to bring everything together. She had a task in front of her, Elvis in the background, and a spark in her that made her seem well, present, and connected. It reminded me that music does not just entertain; it can reach memory, identity, confidence, and joy in a way that words sometimes cannot.
A potent memory I have of Wanda (Granny Wanda) is of one Christmas meal, when she suddenly began singing in Polish.
She was of Polish descent, and although vascular dementia had affected her thinking and communication, the music seemed to open a door that everyday conversation sometimes could not. One moment she was with us in the room, an
A potent memory I have of Wanda (Granny Wanda) is of one Christmas meal, when she suddenly began singing in Polish.
She was of Polish descent, and although vascular dementia had affected her thinking and communication, the music seemed to open a door that everyday conversation sometimes could not. One moment she was with us in the room, and the next she was somewhere much further back: singing songs from her youth, the same songs she used to sing in a choir with her sisters.
What amazed me most was how easily she moved between English and Polish. She would switch between the two as though no time had passed, carried by the melody and the memories attached to it. It was beautiful, surprising, and slightly magical. It was one of those family moments where everyone goes quiet because they know they are witnessing something special.
There was humour in it too, because she sang with such confidence, as if Christmas had simply become her stage and the rest of us were lucky enough to be in the audience.
That moment showed me how deeply music can be tied to identity. Even when dementia affects thinking, speech, or memory, a familiar song can still reach something personal and powerful. For Granny Wanda, music brought back language, family, heritage, and a part of herself that was still very much there.