This article (may) conclude the ongoing "saga" that began with the August 2005 newsletter (let's see how long-winded I get). Here we are now, seven or eight years after the passing of Cab Calloway (I had seen him just days before his passing when he attended the first (day's) music therapy session I'd ever conducted). It had been 3 or 4 years since I had been to that particular "continuing-care" facility (due to a change in administration), and the events there had faded back from the front of my mind. Now, right in front of me, at Sullivan's (my then solo restaurant gig), was Mrs. Cab Calloway. I wouldn't have recognized her, I had seen her once and only briefly. Besides, much had changed. When Cab Calloway entered the health care (nursing) section of the facility in 1994, his wife also moved in, but to the independent cottages. She continued at the facility after her husband's death, but time had taken it's toll. By the time I met her at Sullivan's, she had been moved to the health care unit. But that night, she was "out on the town", and it was my part of town she came to. For a good half an hour, she sat by the piano, in her wheelchair, with her big martini glass, singing and smiling and cheering as I played just for her (never mind that others were there also). When I got up to talk with her, and discovered that she was now a health care resident of the facility, it was my turn to smile (not that I wasn't smiling before). By coincidence (I call it providence), I had just negotiated a (once a month) return to that facility (after not being there for several years, during which time Mrs. Calloway made her "transition") to begin the following week! Mrs. C was excited to hear that I was coming. We made a "date". To be continued (I promise, next time I really will wrap it up)...