WITH ME WHEN I WAS BORN

October 14, 2014

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My mother’s first anniversary of death was two days ago and I visited the cemetery where she and my father are buried together. It was no coincidence that my last post title was named “My Lovely Light.” I feel my mother and father lighting the way for me.

My mother’s first anniversary of death was two days ago. It was no coincidence that my last post title was named “My Lovely Light.” I feel my mother and father lighting the way for me.

The toes at the top are my niece and nephew who joined brother, my sister-in-law, and me when we visited my parents’ grave over the weekend. Unfortunately, my two brothers are estranged and my middle brother was not there (even though his children were.)

The toes at the top are my niece and nephew who joined my brother, sister-in-law and me when we visited my parents’ grave over the weekend. Unfortunately, my two brothers are estranged and my middle brother was not there (even though his children were.)

I have had a lot of construction going on in my apartment. My bathroom has been completely torn apart – I’ve had to go outside to use a storeroom toilet in the coop complex where I live for five days. It’s been stressful and unfortunately, the dust has irritated my eyes. But I still celebrate that they aren’t torturing me like they were before.

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I was working on a new song arrangement for my latest composition named “Watching You Grow.” I even joyfully performed my new song several times at open mics.

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But for some reason I lost my feeling for it.

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I realize that it might be because the past few weeks I’ve had some struggles with my children. I’ve thought about renaming my song, “Grow Up Already!”

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I’ve continued to push myself to perform. It takes a lot of courage and energy for me to put myself in front of an audience. But I love opening my heart and there is nothing more healing for me than that.

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Judy sleeping in her basket

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I picked “With Me when I Was Born” as my post title because today is my birthday.

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My title is also a lyric line from my song named “With Me.”

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Even though I was initially absorbed with my newest song composition, my heart took a complete turn when George and I finished a new song arrangement for “With Me.” It had been partially started a month earlier. I asked George to rework it several times until it grabbed me.

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When I have a song that “grabs” me, it is so uplifting that I feel like every day is my birthday!

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This new arrangement is very inspiring and ethereal. Although I wrote “With Me” while my father was dying, it is applicable to both my parents. I get teary remembering how much they both loved me.

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But sometimes I imagine that God is speaking to me with my song. I’m sharing a preliminary version here.

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Click the blue link below to play audio: 

WITH ME #2-10/13/14 Copyright 2014 by Judy Unger

My other links below share the lyrics and tell the story about this song in more depth:

#289 YOU’RE WITH ME – PART 1

#347 WITH ME – PART 2

I treasure my old pictures. I remember my mother’s touch; she was so tender and loving.

I remember my mother’s touch; she was so tender and loving.

Today I am 55 years old.

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Recently, I have been making many major repairs on the coop where I’m living. This place is almost the same age I am because my parents moved into it when I was a year old. I moved back two years ago after leaving my marriage of 31 years. My father had recently died and my mother was in a nursing home.

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I’ve wondered what my father would think about my home improvements and the fact that I am living in his former “castle.”

I prefer not to remember my parents this way; it’s painful. Yet I am grateful that I had them for as many years as I did.

I prefer not to remember my parents this way; it’s painful. Yet I am grateful that I had them for as many years as I did.

When my father was alive, he refused to let anyone “touch” his stuff. He was a serious hoarder and could never throw anything away.

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It took ten dumpsters to fully empty the coop of all his “stuff.” It’s possible that some of what was discarded could have actually been valuable. I wish he would have allowed me to clean this place before he died because I had so many questions for him.

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There were many boxes of pictures that hold mysteries, since I have no idea who the people are in them. The thousands of cards he saved have stirred many memories. I share one that is very painful at the end of this post.

-When I'm discouraged

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I had a disagreement with my father not long before he died. His eyes were clouded by constant pain because he was sick from persistent urinary tract infections. I have a stabbing sensation in my heart when I remember his misery.

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For two years, his granddaughter lived in the coop (my parents were in a nursing home.) Although the price was right, it wasn’t very comfortable because of my father’s refusal to allow anything to be touched. My niece’s clothes were laid out on the floor because there was no room in the closet and the dresser drawers were packed with old clothes.

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My niece was in a serious relationship and asked my father if her boyfriend could move in with her. My father was more than adamantly opposed. He became furious during discussions and could not be swayed.

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His granddaughter moved out six months later and got married.

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Not long after that, I had what I thought was a brilliant idea. I told my father that it would be great if my mother’s companion, Miriam, could live in that vacant coop.

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In return for living there, we would reduce her pay. And Miriam was desperately looking for a place to move to at that time. She wanted to leave her marriage and had no financial means to get an apartment on her own.

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Although my father loved Miriam, he bristled and once again firmly told me “no.”

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I wondered why he preferred the apartment to be vacant and wouldn’t consider this temporarily. It seemed like a “win-win situation.” His long-term care checks that provided the money to pay Miriam were ending in two months. There wouldn’t be any money left to pay her and it would be up to my brothers and I.

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His favorite cap

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Our disagreement fills me with regret because I’d never seen him so angry. His eyes flashed and with all the energy he could muster he snarled, “No one is living in that coop except FAMILY! Do you get that? I don’t want you to mention this again!”

-#15 OUR LOVE REMAINS WITH EACH TEAR

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A month later he was on his deathbed and tired of his painful existence. The thought of going on state assistance when his long-term care ended filled him with dread and he died one month before that would have happened.

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I will never forget the experience of watching his die. Even though it was the end of his suffering and his wish, I saw him in unbearable agony up until the moment he took his last breath. It was the same way for my mother, too.

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Mom's Hand at death 2

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How could my father have known that only a month after his death I would ask my husband for a divorce?

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I ended up moving into the apartment where I grew up. The place that he had wanted “only for family” was for me. Perhaps he knew that I would do this, since I told him I planned to end my marriage sometime in the future. He gave me his blessing.

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At night I talk to my dad and thank him for his foresight.

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He and my mother continue to be with me every step of the way.

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Couldn't have had a better dad

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Dad kissing me

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© 2014 by Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

MY LOVELY LIGHT

October 6, 2014

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Autumn leaves always remind me of my son’s death.

Autumn leaves always remind me of my son’s death.

I share below a link to see a video of my open mic performance last week. I played my song “Angel in the Sky” to honor my deceased son, Jason. With heartfelt lyrics, music and my voice – my song tells this story in another way.

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Performance of Angel in the Sky at Kulak’s Woodshed 9-29-14 by Judy Unger on YouTube

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The post title of “My Lovely Light” is from my song “Angel in the Sky.” Today is the twenty-second anniversary of Jason’s death. He died at the age of five on October 6, 1992.

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A decade after his death, I was very busy raising my other children. It was definitely a diversion from grief and I became very adept at burying my feelings. Although I seldom mentioned him to anyone, not a moment went by without the feeling of deep sadness in my soul.

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When I began this blog in 2010, it was the beginning of my healing. I wrote about Jason’s life and death six months later; it unburdened me in many ways. Since then, I am amazed at how much my grief has transformed.

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It is very inspiring to share my feelings after suffering for so many years. How I arrived at such a beautiful place is miraculous for me.

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I often feel as though God blessed me with music to guide me. Music has definitely brought me tremendous healing and inner peace.

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Music heals me

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My life is “filled with song” (that is actually a lyric line of mine). Every single day I sing, listen to, compose and record songs that relate directly to my life with almost every word.

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This past month, I was working on several songs with an important theme that clearly explains my healing.

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I have often mentioned growing up with “black and white” thinking. This probably ties into my using metaphors of darkness and light for my songs.

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For me, darkness represents grief and horror. Light counters this with brilliance, enlightenment and spirituality.

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These are my original lyrics for my song “Beside Me Always.”

These are the original lyrics for my song “Beside Me Always.”

My journey of songwriting began when I was very young. I wrote “Beside Me Always” when I was 17, but revised the lyrics after Jason died so I could read them at his funeral.

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My revised lyrics were:

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“I’ll search the shrouded darkness, wanting you and nothing less. Seems my whole life I’ve waited, in darkness that was fated.”

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Jason's grave and shadow 3

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Losing my child was quite different from losing my parents. He was ripped from my soul and my life was forever altered.

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I have countered how much I miss him physically with the image of light.

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He is not visible, yet he comforts and sustains me. He conquers my fear of darkness and with the fairly recent deaths of both my parents, I also feel that way about them, too.

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An obvious rhyme with light is sight. My lyrics of being “out of sight” explain the absence of body, but not love.

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I share some lyric lines below:

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From my song “Angel in the Sky.”

From my song “Angel in the Sky.”

From my song “Somewhere I Can’t See.”

From my song “Somewhere I Can’t See.”

From my song “With Me”

From my song “With Me”

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With these feelings, I want to share my response to a newly bereaved mother. I say, “Newly bereaved” because it has been almost two years since my friend, Sammi lost her beloved son. Her grief is almost as raw as the day he died because that is the nature of losing a child. Moving on is incomprehensible after two years.

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I don’t see moving on as leaving grief behind. For me personally, I’ve just moved with it to another place and after that it changed completely from the way it used to be. Healing simply means that I have scars from a horrific amputation that I never thought would stop bleeding.

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Jason as my light

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Dear Sammi,

I was thinking of you and wanted to share a link to another mother’s words about grief. Even though her son died by suicide, I thought that what she wrote might be something you could relate to.

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The fall always reminds me of my son’s death. It will be 22 years this coming Monday since he died. My mother was dying around this time last year and her first anniversary is coming up, as well.

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I keep creating music that helps me.

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Thinking of you,

Judy

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Thanks for sharing Judy.  I absolutely can relate to this Mother. It angered me when I read the line that said she has been accused of wallowing in her grief. I know that we, as a group, scare most people because of what we represent.

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Hope all is well with you. I don’t care if its 22 years or 22 minutes…. for those of us in this club it will always feel like…. now. My thoughts will be with you on Monday, Judy. I know your beautiful boy will be with you as well.

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I like to think that they miss us as much as we miss them.

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autumn-leaves-larger.jpg

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Sammi, I know what you mean about that line of wallowing in grief. Even though I share a hopeful message of healing, I often feel like I’m viewed as someone who overly dwells upon grief.

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Thank you for caring about me and thinking of my death anniversary on Monday. The truth be told, I do not suffer like I used to anymore.

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A long time ago, I had feelings similar to ones you have expressed. Back then; I never imagined reaching this place, so I am sensitive to how this might be for you to hear.

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I have been on my grief journey for a long time. For years and years I suffered and very little changed after the first decade.

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When things shifted for me, it was miraculous and something I consider to be one of the greatest blessings in my life. Your message inspired me to write.

I have so many memories where I live now. I remember my childhood and of bringing Jason to visit my parents.

I have so many memories where I live now. I remember my childhood and of bringing Jason to visit my parents.

I thank you very much for that because your words led me to gratefulness for my healing. Your last line below is what touched me.

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I like to think that they miss us as much as we miss them.

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I truly understand what you meant with those words.

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The day after Jason was buried, I was tortured because I worried about how much he missed me. I knew my feelings were irrational; I felt he couldn’t survive without me and he was dead. It made me crazy!

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It was because I had been his caregiver. I was his universe and he was mine. 

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Jason Book 5

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Jason Book 2

Jason was a sickly child with a severe congenital heart defect. Over the five years that he lived, there were many health crises. I was always very stressed over his poor health.

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He was breathless and weak. Because he was very small, I carried him most of the time because he became too tired when he walked. He had great difficulty eating and vomited every single day. I can still remember him sleeping across my chest up until the time he died – he was often very cold.

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Yet in spite of his illness, he was a happy child. I knew it was because I catered to his every wish.

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With his death, I was anguished because I felt that he still needed me to comfort him. I awoke at night hearing him crying for a blanket. I couldn’t imagine how he could be without his mommy. I kept imagining that he was freezing in his coffin.

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Even though I knew intellectually he couldn’t feel these things, sometimes I projected him being jealous of his siblings’ good health and ability to grow up. I saw Jason as being very angry for not having that opportunity.

Jason was very jealous of his younger brother and received most of my attention.

Jason was very jealous of his younger brother and received most of my attention.

These feelings spun through me for years and years – until I reached the place where I am now. Jason died and left my life initially. But with my healing, he returned

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I don’t believe that Jason misses me anymore because I feel like he’s with me all the time. Sometimes at night I feel him whispering in my ear and lying upon me again.

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I consider him to be my angel. He is with me in a different way as a beautiful light in my life.

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I know that when I die someday, he will be right there waiting to guide me.

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I will always miss the life he never had, but I treasure what I learned from him. He was a special gift. He has inspired me to do many things that I would never have done if he hadn’t shined his light upon me.

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I sense that he cries when I cry. He wants me to heal and find joy in life. In fact, the encouragement I feel from his loving presence has healed me more than anything else.

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I pray that one day, you will feel AJ again close by in this way.

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Every moment of my life, I am grateful for my healing. I never take for granted how far I have traveled from the hell where my grief began.

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And Jason has been with me every step of the way shining his light.

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Will this pain ever stop

Jason so pale

© 2014 by Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

I CAN’T TELL YOU

September 28, 2014

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

This past week I had a new floor installed and said goodbye to the black and white dining room floor that was one year younger than me. (I am visible in the mirror at the end of the hallway)

This past week I had a new floor installed and said goodbye to the black and white dining room floor that was one year younger than me. (I am visible in the mirror at the end of the hallway)

My post title is a lyric line from my song “Memory of Love.” That song fits perfectly into my life right now and I recently completed a brand new arrangement for it. I plan to write more about it soon but am excited to share it now because it goes so well with this story.

Click the blue link to play audio: 

MEMORY OF LOVE #2-9/27/14 Copyright 2014 by Judy Unger

My mother’s fade into dementia was the catalyst for my “rebirth.” She was my best friend and support system. When she became sick, everything shifted and suddenly I was the “adult.” This transition was initially shocking, but eventually I needed to take control of my own life.

I dedicated myself completely to keeping my mother comfortable while she declined mentally and physically. Yet even though I was a devoted daughter, I still carry a lot of guilt. The line of “I Can’t Tell You” is part of a longer phrase of:

I can’t tell you so instead I just pretend, it’s easier that way . . .

That line was written when I was filled with disbelief that my mother was more and more frequently making nonsensical statements due to the rapid onset of dementia. But this story is not about that. It is related to how until my mother passed away at the age of 88, I was unable to share with her that I did not faithfully observe any of the religious rules that were sacred to her. I often felt compelled to lie about it because it was so uncomfortable for me.

The coop where I’m now living was built in 1960; I was one year old when my parents moved there.

The coop where I’m now living was built in 1960; I was one year old when my parents moved there.

I love what I have gained through hypnotherapy and appreciate the tremendous progress I’ve made. Every “baby step” is something I celebrate.

For most of my life, I wasn’t able to separate my own beliefs from my parents. I’ve had great difficulty speaking up for myself. In some ways, that sounds ironic because I was an excellent advocate for my children and parents (while they were alive.) I can express myself through singing songs with heartfelt lyrics, but in many other situations I’ve held back my true thoughts and deemed my own feelings to be less important. Wanting to be “loved” by doing the “right” thing came with a very high price for me.

When I moved back to my childhood home two years ago, I never could decide what colors to use with the black and white floor.

When I moved back to my childhood home two years ago, I never could decide what colors would go well with the black and white floor.

At my last hypnotherapy session, I opened up to talk about the guilt I’ve carried for many years over disappointing my mother because I wasn’t an observant Jew like she was.

I told my hypnotherapist, Connie, that it would be very uncomfortable for me to even write about this subject on my blog. I felt ashamed and didn’t want any of my religious friends or family members to be disappointed in me.

Our wonderful session actually led to a lot of inner exploration that I found to be very helpful. Connie pointed out to me that I wasn’t alone with my feelings; people from other religions carried guilt, too.

I even have a picture of my childhood dog, Teddy, enjoying that floor.

I even have a picture of my childhood dog, Teddy, enjoying that floor.

I was tempted to write a Princess story using metaphors. My last Princess parable ended with her triumphing over the Dark Witch of guilt.

I don’t want the “Dark Witch” to torture me anymore and could write a great story that way. But instead I left our session and decided I could write my honest feelings without metaphors.

The installation of the new floor ended up taking two days because the kitchen needed a new sub-floor.

The installation of the new floor ended up taking two days because the kitchen needed a new sub-floor.

It has been exactly two years since I moved from a large home that I lived in for 18 years. I left my husband after a long marriage; all three of my children lived with me in my 2 bedroom coop for some of that time. Currently, my two sons are still with me.

I stepped into the unknown and made the decision to live in this place where I grew up. My father had just died and my mother was in a nursing home. It belonged to my two brothers and I; instead of selling it, I paid my brothers their share and moved in. It certainly was an affordable option and was only two blocks from my youngest son’s school.

I have plenty of memories of growing up in this coop where I now live.

I can look out at my overgrown patio and see myself engaged in a lively Ping-Pong game with my brother. I easily remember how my heart would pound when I hid in the bushes during a serious game of hide-and-seek. I pass those bushes every time I walk to my car. Whenever I look at my old bedroom, I can picture the tents I used to invent by using bed sheets and clothespins. Sweet memories happen when I allow them.

Lately I feel very disconnected from my past, almost like a person with amnesia. I’ve tried to discard any past memories that are painful and my new existence is quite different from what I ever imagined.

The memories that surround me and I avoid, involve my mother preparing for the many Jewish holidays she was passionate about. It isn’t because those memories aren’t beautiful – but they trigger my guilty feelings.

This is such a change because I used to hold tightly onto memories. Memories of love sustained me but unfortunately, guilt has become a barrier to this. And guilt is a companion to resentment.

For most of my life, I have spent a lot of energy worrying about disappointing other people. This left me with a lot of subconscious resentment and confusion. My ultimate guilty act was when I shocked my husband and ended our marriage after 30 years.

Freedom to express myself is terrifying but at the same time a necessary basis for my new life.

Beliefs are not concrete and everyone has their own. Here’s one of my beliefs: In order to make way for something new, sometimes it is necessary to experience some discomfort first.

Beliefs are not concrete and everyone has their own. Here’s one of my beliefs: In order to make way for something new, sometimes it is necessary to experience some discomfort first.

If ever there was anything symbolic in my life, it was my decision this past week to replace the 54-year-old floor in my coop. When I was an infant, I crawled upon that floor. So did all four of my children whenever they visited their grandparents.

That floor always reminded me of a 60’s diner – I never liked the black and white linoleum. More than anything, I’ve often felt that black and white represented the extreme thinking I was raised with.

Black & White linoleum

I loved my mother and considered her my best friend. I was her universe and she lived to hear about everything going on in my life. But I was careful about what I shared with her.

As a young girl, one day I discovered that I was not exactly like my mother. It was such a painful realization.

My mother was a very observant Jew and ruled our household. My father followed her and my brothers and I were raised with strict adherence to Conservative Judaism. We were not Orthodox – yet, my mother was unwavering in the laws she chose to follow. There was a “right way” to do things and anything else was bad and “wrong.”

I want to share an example of a moment that represented my awareness that something didn’t quite work for me. I had never even realized it until then.

I was about 14 and a counselor-in-training for a day camp at our temple. The table was set for a special meal, but first a blessing needed to be said. A young camper was sneaking bites when he wasn’t supposed to. I tapped him gently and told him something I had heard many times before from my mother. I said, “God is going to punish you for that.”

A little while later, I was taken aside by the head counselor. She said, “What did you say to David? He is hysterical and says that you said God is going to punish him!”

At that moment, I began to think about what simply had sprouted from my mouth. It was very unpleasant and I was ashamed at myself for what I had said.

I do not dislike my religion. I shared as much as I could with my children while they were growing up; they even complained to me about it. But the rituals and observance, which brought my mother so much comfort hasn’t been something I’ve wanted to deeply embrace.

Many years ago, there was a time when my middle brother confessed that he had gone to work on the second day of an important Jewish holiday.

My mother screamed and screamed at him, until my brother broke down crying. He was in his 20’s at that time and he promised her he would never do it again. It was a very traumatic thing for me to have witnessed. My brother did not keep his promise, but unfortunately that memory is imprinted in my mind.

After seeing how my mother screamed at my brother, I was terrified of disappointing her – understandably. So I lied to her about what I was doing on important Jewish holidays. It was easier than telling her the truth.

But there was a time when I found incredible courage.

When I was in my mid-twenties, I sought out therapy to help me deal with my depression and confusion. My parents attended a session with me and I expressed my feelings about many things. I told them that moving forward I was going to do things differently. I would no longer attend the same temple services with them every year and didn’t want my mother to buy me kosher meat anymore.

I Can't Tell You

Many years later, my mother was very angry that I scheduled my 5-year-old son, Jason’s heart surgery the day before Yom Kippur, a major Jewish holiday. I had very few options besides that date and went ahead with it. Jason died following that surgery, which was a horrible outcome.

I wish I had covered things because there was a lot of dust everywhere.

I wish I had covered things because there was a lot of dust everywhere.

I hate feeling guilty about anything. Intellectually, I know that I am entitled to make choices about how I want to live my life.

That was why it was so interesting how I planned to put in a new floor last week. The day that the installer gave me was Thursday. It wasn’t until the day before that I learned it fell on the Jewish New Year.

It was very dusty as the workmen demolished concrete in my kitchen. My eyes didn’t like the dust, even though I was in my bedroom with the door closed. I heard my mother telling me that what I was doing was wrong, wrong, wrong. I didn’t feel well at all.

This was a perfect opportunity for me to leave black and white behind. I’m a 54 (soon to be 55) year-old woman who has begun a new life. I don’t want to dwell on sadness from my past anymore, nor am I planning for a future of fame and fortune.

I am very pleased with my new floor. It has many subtle variations of grays and browns. It is neutral and soothing for me.

I did brighten up this photo a bit. I noticed that the lighting affects the color. In the kitchen with fluorescent lighting, the floor appears to be a different color!

I did brighten up this photo a bit. I noticed that the lighting affects the color. In the kitchen with fluorescent lighting, the floor appears to be a different color!

When I moved in, I was very excited to refinish the hardwood floors in the other areas of this coop. For 50 years those floors were hiding under carpeting and it was beautiful to see them revealed. My parents preferred carpet to hardwood, but I am enjoying this alternate floor. It’s my preference.

That old black and white dining room floor worked well for my parents but now I get to choose what I want and that includes religion, too.

I’ve noticed that when I acknowledge guilty feelings – it becomes easier to let them go. With that release, suddenly the beautiful memories filled with love reappear.

But most of all, I want to move forward to create new memories.

In this picture, I am celebrating with my daughter who turned 21 two weeks ago. I am so proud of her and my two sons. I’ve had the pleasure of watching all three of my children grow and develop into beautiful humans right in front of my eyes. My children mean everything to me.

In this picture, I am celebrating with my daughter who turned 21 two weeks ago. I am so proud of her and my two sons. I’ve had the pleasure of watching all three of my children grow and develop into beautiful humans right in front of my eyes. My children mean everything to me.

In two weeks, it will be the first anniversary of my mother’s death. Even though I don’t want to remember her dying moments, my subconscious continues to play them for me.

The seasonal change from summer to fall has begun and that always reminds me of Jason’s death. It has been many years now and I have healed from the agony I used to suffer with.

I have a 7-inch scar from when Jason was born by emergency C-section in 1987.

The strangest thing happens for me with that scar. I never notice it except that sometimes it itches like crazy. It happened today and I don’t think it’s just a random thing. It strangely happens whenever an anniversary of the heart is approaching.

That is my grief.

It is an itch – I can mindlessly scratch it, but it doesn’t bring relief – it just bothers me more. I can’t ignore it.

If I concentrate hard, it stops itching. I think about how much I will always love him.

I’ll never forget Jason; he is my angel.

Jason on black and white floor

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2010. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

MY JOURNEY IN SIGHT – PART 9

September 21, 2014

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

This painting was a watercolor exercise I did over 30 years ago that became a terrific addition to my portfolio. Unfortunately, I never like illustrating beverages.

This painting was a watercolor exercise I did over 30 years ago that became a terrific addition to my portfolio. Unfortunately, I never liked illustrating beverages.

It happened during an ordinary day. I was driving somewhere and suddenly I realized that my eyes didn’t hurt.

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I blinked a few times and was so grateful that my eyes felt “normal.” Then I noticed how much better my vision was without the fog related to having dry eyes.

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I was so happy that I began to cry. I whispered a thank you to God for this blessing.

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Although I had some foggy and irritated sensations in my eyes later that day, whatever discomfort I experienced was manageable. Now I knew that my condition wasn’t going to be something that would torture me forever. My faith in healing was confirmed!

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Healthy Food 2

This gives me an opportunity to share some very old illustrations done for a hospital nutrition brochure.

This gives me an opportunity to share some very old illustrations I painted for a hospital nutrition brochure back in 1984.

A few weeks ago I made a major commitment to follow a healthier path. I stopped eating whatever I felt like; I was so tired of beating myself up about it.

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I made healthier food choices and suddenly, everything started tasting better. Even an apple was more enjoyable than the chocolate I used to snack on.

Which one would you rather have? Seriously, I am choosing the apple because I have made a commitment to get healthy!

Which one would you rather have? Seriously, I am choosing the apple because I have made a commitment to get healthy!

I joined a YMCA and began swimming laps a few times a week. On the other days, I fit in a half-hour walk. I continued to play tennis and went from once to twice a week.

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All of this certainly helped my mood but I wasn’t sure if it was going to help my eyes.

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But then my eyes began to improve. Because I always hear my lyric lines running through my life, I share with humor one that came to mind with my first huge change. The words in my head were: “My life became clear.”

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It was because I started drinking a lot of water!

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B&W Glass close up

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I’m not sure how many glasses I gulped down exactly, but it definitely totaled over the recommended 8-10 glasses a day. I gave up the iced tea with a lot of artificial sweetener, which was certainly not very good for my body either.

Tea Leaves

Only the week before, I had gone to my hypnotherapy appointment with a stack of pages related to dry eyes. I told Connie (my hypnotherapist) they were sent to me by a wonderful woman who had reached out to me. Her name was Judi, and she was the leader of a dry eye support group. I wished her group meetings were closer because unfortunately the group met about 2 hours away from where I lived.

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Connie glanced at the many pages I stuck in front of her. She pointed to one of them and said, “It says right here that drinking water is very helpful for dry eyes.” She paused and then said emphatically, “You know, drinking water might not only help your eyes; it’s beneficial for weight loss and your overall health.”

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Connie pointed to a metal bottle filled with water right there next to her. She shared how she worked hard to drink a lot of water every day.

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I listened and my mind was open to it. Why not? I left that appointment and made a commitment to Connie that I’d try to drink a lot more water.

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During that next week, drinking water became my new habit.

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I was running to the bathroom a lot and it made me think of a poem I had written with a new title. Instead of “My Tears Filled an Ocean,” my new poem was “My Pee Filled an Ocean!”

Okay, so my illustration might not be water exactly.

Okay, so my illustration might not be water exactly.

It was a beautiful summer morning. A week had passed and I was so excited to see Connie for our appointment. I couldn’t wait to share with her how much my eyes had improved. In addition to drinking a lot of water, I had done another remedy at night that Judi had recommended. I will share more about that on my next post.

I’m not really missing the iced tea I just to drink all day long.

I’m not really missing the iced tea I just to drink all day long.

I sat down and was beaming. I smiled and began our session by lifting my guitar out of its case.

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A wonderful blessing had come to me. A few days earlier, shortly before I had begun to feel better, I had started hearing a new song. The joyful melody danced in my mind and the chords were very sweet. This song sounded so different from the last few songs I had written.

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It seemed like my music was a reflection of my healing.

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In the quiet of Connie’s guesthouse I fingerpicked the sweet chords swiftly and sang la la’s with joyful exuberance.

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When I finished and said to her, “I can’t believe since last week how this song appeared. It’s amazing!”

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Connie nodded and agreed that indeed it was amazing. She was always very impressed how I remembered the fingerings for so many songs, especially new ones. Remembering lyrics and chords for all my songs definitely takes up a lot of space in my mind; there is considerable memorization involved.

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Our session was uplifting and I felt like I was glowing as I drove home. Things were definitely on the up and up for me; I was so grateful once again for the blessing of music in my life.

I have begun writing the lyrics for my new song.

I have begun writing the lyrics for my new song.

I began arranging my new song with George, before I even had words for it.

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This song was all about joy. I felt inspired because of the many wonderful things that were happening for all three of my children.

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I decided to name my song, “Watching You Grow.”

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Below is my arrangement in progress:

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WATCHING YOU GROW – Arrangement in Progress

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The miracle

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© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

MY JOURNEY IN SIGHT – PART 8

September 12, 2014

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A month ago, I met a good friend at Descanso Gardens. I didn’t take too many photos because the sunlight bothered my eyes. Seeing the beautiful images I did capture that day remind me of how blessed I am to have my eyesight and my wonderful friend, Carol.

A month ago, I met a good friend at Descanso Gardens. I didn’t take too many photos that day because the sunlight bothered my eyes. This image reminds me of how blessed I am to have my eyesight and my wonderful friend, Carol.

For a week after using the serum tears, I was deeply depressed. My eyes hurt and my vision was foggy even though my eye doctor said my eyes looked “fine.” I began to lose hope of ever conquering my dry eye condition and reclaiming the “normal” eyes I once had.

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I had definitely lowered the bar a while ago. This wasn’t about acuity (vision); it was about living with discomfort and constant pain. I could accept poor vision, but not pain.

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My online dry eye support group knew exactly how I felt. I plan to write more stories about this group. It is comprised of men and women, young and old. One woman has lived with her condition over 25 years already. Many of the new members want to pull their eyeballs out!

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What I continue to find so beautiful, is how this group is filled with hopefulness. When someone is overwhelmed, another member suggests things that might help him or her.

]

After my serum tear fiasco, I poured out my heart and received many caring and concerned messages.

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My new friend from this group named Susan was very appreciative of my story. She had just gotten a prescription for serum tears because I had encouraged her to push her doctor for it. Now she wasn’t sure whether to try them after hearing about what I had experienced.

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Susan and I began writing daily and I was touched by how caring she was. It turned out that she didn’t live too far from me. That was amazing since the online group was international. Susan had suffered with dry eyes for about ten years. She had attended several meetings of a dry eye support group in Orange County, which was about two hours from where we lived. The leader of that group was a very knowledgeable person and quite willing to help others. Her name was Judi.

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Susan had recently spoken with her and shared my story; now Judi wanted to get in touch with me.

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I was open to it.

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Judi began by emailing me a ton of literature and eventually we spoke for an hour on the phone.

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Her messages resonated with wisdom, knowledge and incredible compassion. If I allowed an image to form, it would be of seeing myself lying on the ground. Suddenly gentle hands caressed me and sweet messages of hope were whispered in my ears. With the help of those hands, I managed to pull myself back up.

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What stood out to me in Judi’s messages were several things. Certainly she had an incredible amount of knowledge. But what really helped me was when she acknowledged the psychological impact of my condition and reassured me that I wasn’t going crazy.

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You are not crazy or a hypochondriac; they just don’t have the answer or know how to treat you. God can make a way when it seems there is none. Don’t give up.

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And her mentioning God really touched me.

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No one can understand how bad the pain of dry eyes can be unless they have experienced it. We have more nerves in our eyes than anywhere else in our bodies. I can remember a young man, many years ago that wanted to have his eyes removed because the pain was so bad; he was in his 30’s. That was so very sad and I wonder whatever happened to him.

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I have also struggled with anxiety and depression my whole life, especially after the age of thirty. I have recently learned that anxiety and depression makes the pain of dry eyes worse – and the pain of the dry eyes makes the depression worse. It is a vicious cycle.

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I can say that my struggle started 14 years ago and my eyes are better now than when I started but also I have learned to be much more proactive in treating them. It always drives me closer to God, to depend and trust Him – to spend time with Him – to be grateful for His grace and faithfulness in all areas of my life.

Judi

After about two weeks, my eyes recovered. They weren’t “normal,” but perfectly adequate for all the things I do. The pain subsided and helped me appreciate how much better I was. I was relieved that I was able to perform at my niece’s wedding above.

After about two weeks, my eyes recovered. They weren’t “normal,” but perfectly adequate for all the things I do. The pain subsided and helped me appreciate how much better I was. I was relieved that I was able to perform at my niece’s wedding above.

Twenty years ago, I helped bereaved parents, siblings and grandparents as a support group leader for an organization named Compassionate Friends.

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Whenever I have written about the things that helped me to survive my grief, I usually mention how I benefitted from support groups. “Hold hands with other people who are also suffering. Take baby steps together,” is often how I frame it.

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It seems like I followed my own advice when my dry eye condition began to overwhelm my life.

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Coral Rose close up

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One of the hardest things for me as a leader at Compassionate Friends was helping the newly bereaved.

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They were in shock, bewildered at how their “normal” life had suddenly disintegrated. The grief journey they were beginning seemed like a horror they could never survive and dying to join their loved one seemed far easier.

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Part of reason it was so difficult for me (back then), was because I was on the same journey and I couldn’t really say that it would get “better” with honesty. The journey from where the hell began was arduous and excruciatingly slow. The best that could be hoped for was to hold hands with others and hang on.

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What I gained from helping other people with grief was a sense of purpose. It made me feel that all of the suffering I went through strengthened me. Now I could do something useful, my son was an “angel on my shoulder,” hugging and holding me as I comforted other people.

These are lyrics from my song “Wonder Why.” I recently finished the vocal and guitar additions for my song.

These are lyrics from my song “Wonder Why.” I recently finished the vocal and guitar additions for my song.

It was when Judi reached out to help me that I realized how I was getting something back for all that I had given.

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The experience was quite spiritual for me.

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As horrible as bereavement was, I have looked at it as a pathway toward enlightenment. Grief took me away from God and eventually I found a way back. I try not to imagine that God orchestrates all the misery in this world. Because of my eye pain, I know I have gained far more compassion and depth.

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I know that things could be worse and things could be better. The number of painful diseases that exist in this world are endless and I cry for anyone who suffers. Even with dry eye disease, there are people whose eyes are disfigured and scarred, who cannot drive or face daylight at all.

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So many things happen in life that I do not understand. For myself personally, I strive to stay positive as I follow my dream.

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I keep smiling and there’s a reason for that. It’s because my eye pain has not stopped me from arranging songs, recording vocals and writing new music. I even began composing a new song last week.

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I am currently working on a large illustration assignment that is going very well. Somehow, I always manage to find time to write for my blog.

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I am very close to all three of my children. I have two sons who live with me (17 and 23) and they keep me busy shopping to fill our refrigerator. I play tennis and I swim several days a week.

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How is that possible?

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My explanation is that there are angels are all around me.

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Coral Rose

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

MY JOURNEY IN SIGHT – PART 7

September 9, 2014

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This picture was taken on the day my blood was drawn.

This picture was taken on the day my blood was drawn.

My serum drops arrived on a Monday morning. My son burst into my bedroom to announce, “Mom, there’s a big package at the door for you!”

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Only a week before, I had driven for two hours to a distant facility to have 21 vials of blood drawn that would be used to make these revolutionary eye drops.

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Of course, the dry ice was far more interesting for my son as I removed the seven precious bottles of serum. I put six in the freezer and one in the fridge. I wondered how long it would be before I could start squeezing the bottle and putting the tears in my eyes.

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Serum Tears and box

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I looked to see if there were any papers in the box but there were none. There were a few instructions on the bottle telling me to discard it after a week and to keep it refrigerated at all times.

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By late afternoon, I checked the bottle in the refrigerator and it wasn’t frozen anymore. It was time to use them! The drops that went into my eyes were cold, slimy and kind of shocking. They were definitely refreshing. I imagined my eyes were soothed every time I blinked.

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The instructions on the bottle said to put one drop in each eye every two hours. I didn’t follow a tight schedule, but used them whenever I saw the time had gone by. By bedtime, I had used them at least 4 times.

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I could hardly believe that bottle contained my own body fluid!

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Serum bottle

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That first night held a momentous event for me. I performed for the first time in eight months.

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Before my dry eye condition overwhelmed my life, I used to perform weekly at the Open Mic at Kulak’s Woodshed. From the moment I walked in, everyone there welcomed me back with open arms.

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Singing in front of an audience was still difficult with my eye discomfort. But I could tell that I was able to handle my pain much better since I had been on a “healthier track.” I wasn’t looking at my eating as a diet, even though I had started to lose a few pounds. Certainly, I had gained a lot of weight in the months I hadn’t gone to Kulak’s and it took courage for me to put myself out there.

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Playing at Kulak's 12

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Before I began performing, I mentioned to the host that I had “eye issues” and it was difficult for me to open my eyes.

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I am sharing my performance on YouTube for the first time in years. Below is a link to it:

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEPFa7foQUs

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Butterfly of death

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Unfortunately, everything changed the next day.

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Just after I woke up I noticed my vision was cloudy. It was rare for me to go back to sleep, but I did so because I thought perhaps I was just tired.

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By evening, I finally acknowledged that something was wrong as the fog in my eyes became more and more dense.

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Now I was far less excited to continue putting the serum drops into my eyes. I wondered if perhaps this was something I needed to stick with. Maybe my eyes were healing this way?

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This post on my Internet Dry Eye forum really gave me a lot of hope.

This post on my Internet Dry Eye forum really gave me a lot of hope.

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I posed my question to the people on the dry eye forum I belonged to. One woman responded and said she had experienced a little discomfort at the beginning but after that she was vastly improved. I continued using the drops.

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The next day, my pain was even more intense. Clearly this was not normal. I tried calling the pharmacy that made them. Their phones were not working.

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I felt so discouraged and disappointed. (Eventually, I did reach them and they took down information from me to look into whether my drops had a problem. I never received a call back.)

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It was very hard for me to concentrate and do my illustration work. All I wanted was to be in the place I was before I began using the drops. About a year ago, I was dealing with this level of severity almost every day. Now I appreciated my progress.

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By Friday, I had already stopped using the tears and prayed things would get better. A friend told me that my eyelids and face looked swollen. I decided that I should to be checked by an eye doctor.

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But when I called, I was told there were no appointments available.

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I continued to insist that I needed to be seen and was given a lengthy evaluation over the phone. I listed my symptoms and the receptionist seemed unconcerned. She still would not give me an appointment so I told her I wanted my doctor to call me back.

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Two hours later, the receptionist called me back and said; “Your doctor said she doesn’t need to see you today.”

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I was livid! I felt smoke coming out of my ears and eyes. At that moment, I hated my doctor.

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I took a deep breath and continued to insist upon an appointment. My heart was pounding while I was put on hold. The receptionist finally came back on and said coldly, “Okay, you can come but you’re going to have to wait a very long time.”

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I hung up and began crying. I decided to call a good friend before leaving in order to calm myself.

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My friend used to work in a doctor’s office. She said, “Don’t take it personal. You were being screened out and that’s done regularly. Your doctor probably wasn’t even told about your situation.”

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Scared Eye

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An hour later, I was in the waiting room. I was prepared to wait a long time and certain I had done the right thing by coming in to get checked. I was the last patient before lunchtime and the examining room area was deserted. Finally my eye doctor came to get me.

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I told her how much I appreciated her fitting me in during lunchtime; I didn’t want to appear angry.

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I described the pain and fog that began only a day after using the serum tears. My eye doctor said, “I told you serum tears weren’t a cure.”

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But I had many questions for her because in the last few days I had learned a lot. It turned out that my bottle was only a 20% solution and I had heard that wasn’t nearly as effective as 100% serum. A reaction was unheard of.

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She replied, “Well, if they bothered you with 20%, then it would be even worse if they were 100%.”

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I asked her if the saline could have bothered me. She said it definitely wasn’t the saline. But it did look like I might have contaminated the bottle. I had touched it to my eyelid whenever I put the drops in. It sure would have been helpful to me if there had been clearer instructions.

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Did I have an infection? This cornea doctor would soon find out.

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As she put the yellow dye into my eyes, I gasped because it burned so much. Only a moment after looking with a magnifier, she announced in a chipper voice, “I don’t see any problem at all; your eyes look very good actually.”

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Now I felt embarrassed for insisting upon this appointment.

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I walked out of the building and didn’t know what I was feeling. I was glad I didn’t have anything wrong, but at the same time I began to doubt myself. I was such a demanding patient.

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And my butterfly of hope was smashed to the ground.

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dead butterfly

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Facebook Post on Blog

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The support I received from my Internet group helped me so much.

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Only the week before my tears had arrived I had rallied to encourage another woman to get them prescribed by her doctor. After my ordeal, this woman was very concerned about whether to move forward to get them.

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She and I began corresponding privately. I had made a new friend and her name was Susan.

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Susan and I

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To be continued . . .

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Playing at Kulak's 11

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

WON’T STAY EMPTY

August 30, 2014

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Being a food illustrator certainly has me thinking about food.

Being a food illustrator certainly has me thinking about food.

A month ago, I asked a friend on Facebook if I could use a photo she had posted of a garden castle.

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When she “liked” my last blog post, I wrote: “What did you think of my artsy images created from your vacation photo?”

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That was when my friend admitted that she had “liked” my post but hadn’t yet had a chance to read it. I wrote her back with:

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No worries! I write a lot and understand how it takes time to read my stuff, especially if you’re busy. But I love how you are always so supportive.

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Also I know some people don’t like metaphorical writing. So here’s a summary of my last Princess story: SHE FINALLY WENT ON A DIET LOL!

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The Door and Butterflies

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My last story ended with the Princess receiving a key and her mission was to find a door for it. That is why this post title is a line of lyrics from my song “The Door.”

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Below is the third verse from that song: 

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As you look upon

the empty spaces when I’m gone

You will see – someday

I know you’ll fill them

They won’t stay empty

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I originally wrote those words with the hope that my “ex” would one day feel better – long after I had gone through the door.

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But whenever I sing those words, instead I imagine my mother is speaking to me. She was a very optimistic woman and I know she would want me to feel better. When my child died, my mother grieved for me and for her grandchild. No parent wants their child to suffer.

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Grief is like a door – I’ve often spoken about going through it, rather than around it. I know from my own experience after losing my child that going through the “door of grief” led to my healing. I’ve met people who never went through that door until many years after their loss. Despite the passage of time it was as if their loved one had just died. And there are people who never imagine they could heal. Everyone handles grief differently.

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The key and butterflies

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I no longer suffer from intense grief over the loss of my child. But in the last few years I’ve experienced many other kinds of losses. Sometimes I’ve noticed that a recent loss can trigger painful feelings from my past.

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I’ve used the term “empty spaces” to describe an aching void inside of me; it represents a longing for something missing in my life. Perhaps that is another way to look at grief.

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I’ve acknowledged many times how much I miss my mom, but I haven’t really cried much to release those feelings – I’ve suppressed my tears. Pushing down feelings and stuffing them inside is not healthy.

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I can express myself through singing and songwriting, but it hasn’t been enough. It’s been far easier for me to find other ways to deny my empty spaces. Food has been something that I’ve often used to numb myself. No matter how much I eat, the emptiness remains when I’ve eaten for the wrong reasons. And after that, I’ve beaten myself up for my weakness.

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I realize I’ve written a lot of “heavy” stories lately. Now I feel ready for a “lighter” approach.

In this baby picture I’m thinking, “Mommy, keep feeding me!”

In this baby picture I’m thinking, “Mommy, keep feeding me!”

A few weeks ago, I had a wonderful turning point. I became tired of waiting for motivation to get into shape and eat healthier. I was ready!

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I thought of another way to look at this and it is rather funny. I’ve decided to “divorce” food! My relationship was very unhealthy and below are some parallels to my former marriage:

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1. I was miserable, but figured I’d deal with it when I was ready.

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2. I preferred to be safe and comfortable; making any changes seemed monumental.

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3. It was a relationship that was more fun when I was with other people. (Lest I be misunderstood, this was not about cheating on my spouse. It represents how socializing took away some of my emptiness because my ex-spouse seemed far more jovial and less negative in company. With food, certainly it was more fun to eat out.)

I'm swimming to Cancun!

I’m swimming to Cancun!

All of a sudden, a light bulb went off and I realized it would be great if I could start swimming laps again. It was a really hot day and the idea seemed refreshing. I hadn’t swum laps in over two years.

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I looked online and found out where there the nearest YMCA facility was. I was amazed that I was able to squeeze my large body into my old bathing suit.

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The first time I went to swim was on a Sunday. The YMCA pool was at capacity and I had to sit on a bench until the lifeguard gave me a sign that I could go in. Even though it wasn’t a great lap swimming experience, I did feel very relaxed afterwards.

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I was so pleased with myself for doing this!

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The next few times I swam during the week. The pool was practically empty and it was great.

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The only hitch was when I had a panic attack because I thought my towel and bag were stolen in the shower room. I was dripping and certain where I had left it hanging. But it was gone!

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Next I went into the locker area to discover my clothes were also missing.

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Suddenly, I realized that this was all because I was in the MEN’S locker room. I made a beeline out of there quickly – WHEW! I was semi-relieved that I hadn’t run into any naked men.

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Once again, I was reminded how I really need to look where I am going.

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That leads me to the topic of my eyes. A lot has been happening for me and I plan to write an eye update very soon.

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Blood Draw 2

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Thankfully, my blood has replenished and I’m not as empty as I was after my serum blood draw from two weeks ago.

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The technician told me she had never drawn blood for serum tears before. I was explaining to her about it and enjoying our conversation when she said, “Okay, we’re all done!”

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I hadn’t even noticed all the vials being drawn!

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I took some pictures and sent a text message to my friends.

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One friend wrote:

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“Yikes. Glad you are finally able to get started on it. Hope they gave you lots of cookies after.”

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No cookies for me now that I’m on track!

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And I’ll end this post with my favorite text response:

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“Whoa! Vampire party favors!”

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Blood Draw

© 2014 Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

THE WALLS YOU’VE BUILT

August 29, 2014

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I created this filtered image from a good friend’s photo. This castle exists somewhere in a garden in Europe.

I created this filtered image from a good friend’s photo taken while traveling in Lichtenstein, Europe. 

My post title is a line of lyrics from my recent song “Misunderstood.”

For me, there has been no misunderstanding about the purpose of my journey. As I search to find insight from my life experiences – my true goal is to inspire healing and find joy in life.

Perhaps I was naïve when my journey began in 2010. Sustaining joy has been elusive for me. But I’ve continued to face challenges and my most recent ones have been difficult for me to overcome.

I never want to lose hope or stop dreaming.

Due to my dry eye condition, I have not felt “normal” for some time. I continue to learn a lot about dry eyes, which can be considered a disease. I am not alone with it and reading about what others go through with this syndrome is heartbreaking for me. There are many causes and many degrees of suffering.

There is another line of lyrics in my song that I find fitting. It is: “You pretend that you’re okay, but this chill won’t go away.”

The chill that I’m feeling is the one that comes from pretending. I continue to maintain composure even when I’m not really okay. It takes tremendous energy to plod onward when you’re in pain. I’ve always believed that I would find a way to feel better. Unfortunately, much of what I’ve done hasn’t been helpful, especially in regards to food. True peacefulness happens for me when I harness my thoughts.

A few weeks ago, I was in a very low place and wrote a story. It is a story about trying to get out of Hell in order to find a way back to Heaven.

The good news is that I am on my way!

Since I wrote my story, some things have occurred that haven’t been easy for me. But I have not fallen down. I’ve found a way out of Hell and do not plan on going back.

CASTLE FLOWERS Pastel

THE PRINCESS TORE DOWN THE WALLS

God continued to bless the Princess.

The Princess was grateful for all her blessings. But unfortunately, the Dark Witch caused the Princess so much pain that the Princess had difficulty smiling or opening her eyes.

Melody continued to comfort the Princess, but the Princess was succumbing to her pain. In a panic, Melody called out for Hope and Dreams to help find a way to save the Princess.

As two shimmering butterflies fluttered next to her, Melody explained that the situation with the Princess was dire. She said, “The Dark Witch will not allow you in there, but somehow there must be a way to get you in. I’ve tried with songs and it hasn’t worked.”

Hope said softly, “We won’t stop trying. But we’ll still wait nearby in case she finds a way to free herself.”

Dreams added, “I’m in total agreement with Hope. Even if she doesn’t want to see us, it’s okay. I remember there was a time when she told us never to come back. But we waited for her then and we will this time, too.”

Melody wiped her eyes and thanked them. Hope and Dreams were such beautiful butterflies. She watched them sail softly into the sky with their colorful wings dancing in the sunlight.

Butterflies blue sky

The Princess once dreamed of being free. But now prison walls surrounded her and unfortunately they were ones she had actually built. Brick by brick, she had walled herself in as a way to shield herself from pain. Gradually the bricks piled higher and higher until they blocked out the sunlight and kept her in darkness.

Pain came in the form of many distinct images for her.

Sometimes, she saw a white spider. Other times, she imagined a Dark Witch holding a broomstick. The Dark Witch delighted in poking the Princess’s eyes with the stinging end of a broom to torment her. Her spell was so evil that the Princess could feel pain even when her eyes were closed.

The Dark Witch stood guard at the entrance to the prison where the Princess was. Like a scarecrow; she wielded her broom as a weapon so no one could enter.

Somehow Melody was able to avoid the Dark Witch by floating upon sweet melodies directly into the Princess’s heart.

Dark Castle

The Princess had tried many times to wrestle the painful broom from the witch’s grasp. But she could not tear it away from the Dark Witch.

In order to survive, the Princess relied upon Melody for help. Melody blanketed her with music and the Princess sang loudly to drown out her pain. Many times, her voice became plaintive cries because she was so sad.

Closed eye

The Princess used food to combat her pain and sadness. It was a very familiar source of comfort and like a drug. But even though it numbed her pain, it caused her to sink lower and lower to the ground from the additional weight she carried.

Finally, the Princess could not move and she decided she had truly succumbed to grief.

DISCOURAGED

A long time ago, The Princess had been in a similar place. But back then, she had her mother and father to comfort and support her. There was no one now to hold her and give her that kind of love. She missed her mother so much; they had been especially close. Even though memories of love sustained her, she was also burdened by memories of suffering.

2 weeks before she died

The Princess was so grateful for Melody. Her precious fairy stroked her and gently hummed sweet melodies into her ears.

As the Princess lay upon the ground in darkness, she wondered how she would find a way to lift herself up. Once upon a time, she was so proud of her courage and willingness to seek freedom from negativity in her life.

Now she was a prisoner in her own mind. She had walled herself in and succumbed to sadness.

Melody & the dark Castle

She could not open her eyes and she could not see the sky. She missed looking at the mountains and dreaming most of all.

Pain Surrounds Me

The Princess could not stand the suffering anymore. It was clear that no one was going to rescue her. The only escape possible would be for her to find a way to free herself.

Her most inspiring songs began to play loudly in her mind and she forced herself to open her eyes. She was not going to let the Dark Witch destroy her.

The Princess prayed that Hope and Dreams were still waiting for her. With memory of their colorful wings dancing in an expansive sky, the Princess became determined to find a key that would allow her to leave her prison.

Even though she felt so heavy, she struggled to stand. In some ways, she was so burdened by her weight and in other ways she was so empty. She was unsteady as she stood up; she felt drugged.

Gleefully, the Dark Witch blocked the Princess’s path with her broom. The Princess suddenly had an amazing revelation. That broom not only tormented her eyes, but it also was the reason for her emptiness. She relied upon that broom to sweep away any thoughts related to grief. That was why she was empty!

In a fury, she screamed at the Dark Witch, “GO AWAY! Why are you torturing me? What have I done to deserve this?”

The Dark Witch did not answer.

The Princess continued to plead and question.

B&W Castle

Finally, the Dark Witch replied, “I’m guarding your prison, Princess. My name is Guilt.”

The Princess grabbed the handle of the Witch’s broom. This time she felt certain she had the strength to yank it away. The Dark Witch gleefully stabbed the Princess in her eyes with the stick ends of the broom. The excruciating pain brought the Princess to her knees.

The Princess detested that broom. She was done sweeping because there was never an end to it. She wanted to stop drugging herself to escape from pain. She decided she was finally ready to search for a way to free herself. It was time to let go.

The memories of love finally overcame the memories of suffering. She felt so much love within. She was bursting with music to share and had too many things left that she wanted to do with her life. Guilt was about self-hatred, not love.

And Guilt would never allow Hope and Dreams to be with her and the Princess missed them so very much.

Even though the Dark Witch continued to use the broom to taunt her, the Princess let go. The broom clattered to the floor beside her and she kicked it away.

Guilt would torture her no longer. And the Princess would no longer sweep away her grief; she would allow it.

Now the Dark Witch lost her power because the Princess stopped holding on.

My Eyes Stay Dry

In the darkness, the Princess saw a glimmer of light and color. Two butterflies alighted next to her. Together they carried a key that glowed in the darkness.

Hope said, “Princess, this belongs to you – we’ve been waiting to give it to you.”

Dreams added, “We’ll stay with you now Princess – you will be okay.”

The Princess held tightly to her key and cried and cried; perhaps now joy would return!

But her next task would be to find the Door.

Butterfly to Castle

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

PAINFUL WORDS

August 26, 2014

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Butterflies blue sky

 

I want to share my newest song with an instrumental/karaoke version:

MISUNDERSTOOD-Guitar Instrumental Copyright 2014 by Unger

All of my music is otherworldly for me, especially when my lyrics reveal additional meanings I never imagined while writing them.

On my last post I shared my newest song “Misunderstood.” During the time I was composing my song, I wrote a metaphorical Princess story that was very personal. Initially, I was hesitant to share it but now I have decided to.

This post is named “Painful Words” after a line of lyrics in my song “Misunderstood.” My song was written two months ago after I had a blow up with my oldest son. Now other feelings have surfaced for me related to the lyrics of my song.

I had an epiphany when I remembered that many years ago there were painful words, which were difficult for me to forget. They were screamed at me by my mother.

Perhaps I had this revelation because I am dealing with grief surrounding her fairly recent death, in addition to my divorce after a long marriage.

The painful words I have difficulty forgetting were ones my mother yelled when she found out I wasn’t a virgin. I was twenty-one years old and engaged to be married at the time. This incident caused us both unbearable turmoil. I had never seen her so angry and I was devastated that I had disappointed her so much. To appease her, my husband and I married secretly six months before our scheduled wedding.

I always knew that my mother deeply loved me and never meant to hurt me as she did. Later on, I confronted her and she was very sorry. So many times I was certain that I had forgiven her, but still a chill always lingered deep inside of me. I assume she felt misunderstood.

Because of my music I have once again found clarity – exquisitely sweet and comforting.

Now I have an even a deeper connection to my song.

Your wounds are raw

THE PRINCESS BECAME A DRAGON

The Princess could not take off her armor.

It protected her and without it she felt naked. She also retreated because of her embarrassment and shame; she did not want to be judged. Yet there was no escape from judgment because she dispensed painful criticism to herself on a daily basis.

She was certain everyone could see how she was covering herself and disinterested in her appearance.

The armor only added to her misery because she already suffered with constant eye pain. The Princess even tormented herself for not being more grateful because she knew things could be much worse.

There were signs of what could have been devastating to her if she hadn’t been so lucky. Within the past few months, the Princess had fallen to the ground three times. It was because she couldn’t open her eyes to watch more carefully where she was walking.

She decided God was holding her close each time she fell because miraculously she wasn’t injured.

The Princess began to feel like she was definitely not herself anymore. Once upon a time she danced through her days singing. Now she was simply plodding. She began to wonder if the magic potions the doctors gave her to help her eyes were instead interfering with her thoughts.

Then one day, she looked into the mirror and horror spread through her. She was not a Princess any longer.

She had become a Dragon!

Although it shocked her at first, it wasn’t really a total surprise. She had begun to notice flames shooting from her mouth and many things easily triggered it. When her former Prince became a Dragon after they were married, she was certain it was because of the wicked spell of unhappiness. It seemed like now that wicked spell had transformed her, too.

The Princess wanted to be happy. Even if it was elusive, her best moments were when she was peaceful.

But unfortunately, she had few moments of peace because of her “little dragons.” She traded peacefulness in order to make their lives comfortable, to make them happy. And she felt like she had little choice about it.

Long ago, she believed that love from her children was her purpose for living. But she had no words for her children now, her “little dragons.” They weren’t even little – they were 17, 20 and 23 years old!

She had cared for the “little dragons” from the time they were born and dreamed that someday they would be completely independent. It truly was a dream because they faced many difficult hurdles; but she was determined somehow they would get there.

Although they had certainly made a lot of progress since she left the dragon; the Princess was tired. She only wanted to take care of herself and without peacefulness it was difficult.

The little Dragons expected nothing from their father; but they counted on the Princess. Their father planned to live in a faraway place for the rest of his life. In a year’s time, he would be gone.

Her offspring did not really understand her. They accepted their father as a Dragon, but not their mother as an imperfect Princess.

The Princess certainly loved her children, but she often felt overwhelmed. Because of her eye pain and resulting stress, she began to feel a fire growing inside.

One day, her eldest “little Dragon” fanned her flames. He criticized her and told her she wasn’t doing enough as a mother. The Princess was very hurt because she had devoted and sacrificed so much of herself for all her Dragons.

Since the time when she was a child, she was never able to express anger.

But when she expressed her hurt to her son, he became angry instead. She felt her face growing hot and raised her voice to him and flames began to shoot from her. He threw the fire back into her face and then the Princess erupted. It was so intense that she couldn’t speak for a long time afterward.

When the fire and smoke cleared, only ashes remained.

The Princess cried inside when her son said he did not trust her anymore and that she had traumatized him forever with her outburst. For several weeks he did not return to the cottage where they lived. The Princess was devastated. Everything she had said in anger was misconstrued or misunderstood.

The Princess told her son she loved him and was sorry – she honestly was. But she knew was not really forgiven.

Painful words

She never wanted to explode again, but at the same time she didn’t want to continue to suppress her feelings like she had in the past. This was all new and horrible.

And that was when she realized she was a Dragon.

Once upon a time, her children joined her on a journey to a new and different life.

But having all three of them in her small cottage ended up being far more challenging than she anticipated. Her cottage was not really her castle and many times her “little Dragons” were very unhappy with her.

Trying to make them happy was a habit that the Princess couldn’t seem to break. Now it was worse because of the guilt she carried over hurting their father. Seeking forgiveness from them left her exhausted.

She was definitely tired of being a perfect Princess. As a Princess, she was Cinderella – on the floor looking up as she toiled. She was easily manipulated by guilt and her true companion was self-criticism.

It was ironic how she was never lonely when she was alone. But the worst thing was how deeply she felt misunderstood by them. She would always love them with all of her heart, but sometimes she wished she could fly away.

But then God blessed her with a new song. The dragons that surrounded her dissolved into a beautiful sunset and became butterflies instead.

Butterfly sunset

Now the Princess was ready to shed her armor.

Her beautiful song reminded her why she was a Princess. And when she sang it she discovered she was able to fly away.

I performed "Misunderstood" last night at Kulak's Woodshed. It has been 8 months since I've done this due to my eye problems.

I performed “Misunderstood” last night at Kulak’s Woodshed. It has been 8 months since I’ve done this due to my eye problems.

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

MISUNDERSTOOD

August 19, 2014

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS 

This floral painting of mine was created using black and white watercolors. I am trying to get away from seeing things in black and white, which is my metaphor for extreme thinking. When I expand my mind, I’ve discovered beautiful new shades of tonality.

This floral painting of mine was created using black and white watercolors. I am trying to get away from seeing things in black and white, which is my metaphor for extreme thinking. When I expand my mind, I’ve discovered beautiful new shades of tonality.

Click the blue link to hear audio:

MISUNDERSTOOD-9/25/14 Copyright 2014 by Judy Unger

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MISUNDERSTOOD

Copyright 2014 by Judy Unger

You won’t forgive me for that argument

Those words you heard I never meant

Your wounds are raw; too hurt to move on

You say your trust is gone

-

I know you’re hurt; I wish you knew

Nothing can change my love for you

You pretend that you’re okay

But this chill won’t go away

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Misunderstood, left with regret

Painful words you can’t forget

I’d take them back, if I only could

 ‘cause now I’m left misunderstood

-

The walls you’ve built protect you now

I want to tear them down somehow

Misunderstood, left with regret

Painful words you can’t forget

I’d take them back, if I only could

Instead I’m left misunderstood

My lyrics in progress are always very revealing. I share my lyric drafts even with areas of words scratched out.

I share my lyric drafts, including areas of words scratched out.

Less than two months ago, I wrote about how I transform my emotions into a song. It is something I do unconsciously and is such a blessing to my life.

I must thank my arranger, George for inspiring me to create my newest song “Misunderstood.” It was his encouragement that truly helped birth this song.

I had come to one of our sessions feeling very depressed. I told him how I had gotten into a horrible fight with my oldest son a few days before. George was sympathetic and told me to express my feelings by writing a song – he even suggested that I name it “Misunderstood.”

I happened to have discovered four beautiful chords on my guitar the day before. I shared them with George and he began to play them on his piano. Instantly, my heart was grabbed with the excitement that every passionate songwriter knows. My glorious new song was emerging!

I know you're hurt

It took us several sessions to create an arrangement for this song. Even though it didn’t have lyrics, it wasn’t long before I found the words. I tried to “compose” a beautiful melody but it seemed to have a mind of it’s own. Even when I found what might have been a “better” choice, I sang whatever melody came out of my mouth.

Originally I wanted to sound like Barry Manilow with a modulated last chorus. But I lost my connection to the song, so the electric guitar and drums had to go. George erased the solo/last chorus and we created something else.

George also directed me while recording harmony. I love the harmony on this song because it makes the song even more emotional for me.

Singing is such a pure form of expression. I sang the high notes for the last chorus because it felt like what I needed to do in order to release my pain.

Take it back

Below are more beautiful words from my new friend, Sandra who lives in Denmark. I introduced her on the last post and she wrote this sweet message after I emailed her a recording of “Misunderstood” in progress.

Dear Judy,

It’s late here in Denmark now: 23:43 at night, and it will not be long before I go to bed, and I will rejoice very much to again get a nice letter from you. You must be well and take care of yourself. I think of you so often and send you my light and healing energy from the depth of my heart.

Thanks for emailing me your latest song “Misunderstood.” I really like it; I actually really loved it and have started to sing it a little.

I like to have background music playing while I walk around here and work; it is so nice. Judy, you have to promise me that you will never stop playing or making music; you’re so clever. Your thoughtful lyrics that you sing with your pleasant voice make me cry. Just wait and see – when we suddenly see each other one day, I will cry for hours when you play and sing to me.

You said you wrote the song after an argument with your son, but it can easily be understood as something that happened between a couple in love.

While I listened to the song, suddenly I saw a movie where a woman was driving her car up a mountain road. It was the start of a movie with your song running in the background as film music; it fit perfectly! I certainly believe that your music could be used for film. Your song invokes many feelings and your relaxing voice is like pleasant waves; your music could fit nicely in a love story or a drama.

Thank you, dear Judy, for sharing your life and your art with me. God bless you,

Sandra

We can't undo

B & W Half Lilly B

My son has no idea that I wrote this song. What emerged from our conflict were many feelings related to the divorce that had been suppressed. Even though the chill between us has subsided, his wariness and my regret have exhausted me.

Perhaps that is why my song is so comforting. It transforms my painful situation into something exquisitely beautiful. I can express my regret in a different way, instead of bending over backward to prepare his favorite foods.

Below are more scrawled words of my lyrics in progress for this song. My very first page began as a way to express feelings without concerning myself with rhyming. Those lyrics in progress are intimate and revealing.

It seems like sharing here is the antithesis of being misunderstood.

I feel understood now.

Misunderstood first lyrics

Rose B&W What I said I can't undo

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2014. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

I HOLD ON

August 16, 2014

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

 Last week, I corresponded with a lovely woman in Denmark who found my blog. She sent me this remarkable photo of a butterfly that landed on her windowsill. I will share some of our emails at the end of this post.

Last week, I corresponded with a lovely woman in Denmark who found my blog on the Internet. She sent me this remarkable photo of a butterfly that landed on her windowsill. I will share some of our emails later in this post.

This post title is a line of lyrics from my song “Somewhere I Can’t See.” The wisdom in my song begins with the very first line of:

Everything that I have gone through led me to this place

I like to believe that what makes me a touching songwriter is my ability to use my life experiences – good and bad – as an ingredient for my songs. The inspired place where I want to be is one that was reached because of all the challenges I’ve gone through in my life.

I recently finished a new vocal for “Somewhere I Can’t See.” It has beautiful harmony and the lyrics profoundly speak to me about my life. Here is a link to hear and read more about this song:

Story behind SOMEWHERE I CAN’T SEE

SOMEWHERE I CAN'T SEE

“Somewhere I Can’t See” has two interchangeable lines on the chorus that cause me to cry. They are:

I hold on – to love that’s in my memory

I hold on – to the love that heals me

I named this post “I Hold On” because it refers to several things. I am holding on to hope of finding relief for the physical discomfort caused by my dry eye condition. It has been almost two years since my eye problems began in 2012.

And to help myself feel better, I hold on to memories of how I once felt adored in my life – cherished by my parents and even by my former husband. Even though it was my choice to divorce after a long marriage, I am still experiencing a lot of grief.

Last week I was blessed to receive another assignment from Tillamook. I’m going to be illustrating ice cream sandwiches. In that photo of a box above, are sandwiches made especially for me. They were shipped in that box with dry ice. I was amazed how they didn’t melt sitting at my door for several hours until I got home.

I’m going to be illustrating 4 packages of ice cream sandwiches for Tillamook. Inside that box, were several ice-cream sandwiches made especially for me (they were shipped with dry ice). I was amazed how they didn’t melt sitting at my door for several hours until I got home.

Last week, it was very uplifting when I received a new illustration assignment. It looks like I’ve held on to my art career after all!

But what really helped me was a wonderful exchange with a lovely artist/guitarist from Denmark named Sandra. Her words were a beautiful sign to remind me how inspiring my journey truly is.

I now want to share excerpts of our correspondence below: (Her words are in blue)

Hi Judy,

I cannot stop looking at your artwork. Have you ever been to Europe and Scandinavia (Denmark)? You are welcome to come and visit me! I do not know you, but I feel like I know you through your art.

Hi Sandra, I’ve never been to Europe. Your generous offer touches me deeply. You don’t even know me! I will look forward to meeting you someday. I’m glad you love art. I feel that way about music. :)

Dear Judy,

Yes, you are very welcome to come and visit me in Denmark, and I would like to show you this beautiful country.

I moved here about 1 year ago, because I wanted to live in nature and away from the big city. In Soro, it’s absolutely beautiful with a wonderful lake, forest and beautiful culture. AND YOU ARE WELCOME!

Have a good day, Sandra

Hi Sandra,

I love hearing about where you live. I haven’t really travelled much. I often imagine going to Europe – it fascinates me. Of course, if I visited you our language differences might be frustrating! But music and art are a universal language.

It’s interesting that you see my art as who I am, whereas I feel much more defined by my music. My music tells stories about my life and my singing voice is my fullest expression. To me, my art is something that represents the “ideal,” without any emotion in it. But I’m touched that my art moves you.

I don’t think I’ll be traveling to Europe soon, but I’ll save your email and keep it in mind for the future someday. Thanks for writing.

Judy

Dear Judy,

Thank you for your letter, which made me really happy. I’m glad to hear that you use your music to express your feelings, because it is the meaning of music for me.

You might think there is not much emotion in your art, but I can tell you that when I saw your artwork I was immediately in a magic place. I found myself suddenly in the middle of a fairytale. Therefore, can I allow myself to say that I know you through your art?

I am otherwise very critical and it’s not easy to impress me, but when I am touched and someone makes a difference to me, I want to let them know.

My door will always be open to you and have a nice weekend!

Sincerely, Sandra

I appreciate how you’ve opened the door for me. And I even have a song named “The Door!”

Best of luck, Judy

Dear Judy,

I listened to your song “Beside Me Always.” I heard the song again and again and I cry and cry and feel the Universe in your heart; your pain is huge.

I am so sorry about what happened to your son, Jason, because he left you so early. It is a great tragedy when parents have to bury their own children – I do not think that any pain can be greater. I’M SO SORRY, BECAUSE OF YOUR SON!

Many people might say: “It was 22 years ago and time heals all sorrow,” but I know that you feel it as if it happened yesterday. Why? Because I know the pain in your heart hurts and it NEVER goes completely away!

I understand that you express your feelings through the music – YOU DO IT VERY WELL, BECAUSE YOU MADE MY CRY. I COULD FEEL YOUR LOVE TO YOUR SON IN YOUR SONG – I HAVE NO DOUBT THAT YOUR SON IS PROUD OF YOU!

I’d like to send you a little package with some stuff from Denmark, so you get a taste Scandinavia. Sincerely, Sandra

I just savored your message, Sandra. When I get a message like yours, it is such fuel for my journey and where I want to go with my message and music.

Of course, I remember the anguish of losing my beloved child – that will never go away. But the pain has eased and I really believe in sharing my hope of healing. When I sing, I release all of my pain. To connect my music to another person far across the globe is such a wonderful thing to treasure.

So I thank you!!! As far as tasting your food – I couldn’t refuse that. But I also hope you’ll allow me to share a CD of my music with you, too! Have a wonderful day.

Judy

Dear Judy,

Thank you so much for your courtesy and your kindness!

My English is so bad, because I’ve never read it in school! I learned only Russian throughout all school years (because I come from a communist country). Therefore, I am so glad that you can understand when I write something, because I know that I express myself miserably in English. Thank you for understanding!

Thank you so much because you want to share your CD with me, it is a great honor for me, and I look forward to it, thank you! I walked around my apartment and then I found myself singing your songs!

J U D Y! You are amazing!

My door will always be open to you! And I am also pleased to hear the song if it is on CD.

When I said I would send some things to you so that you can “taste” them, I did not think pizza, but more some real Danish things like: Danish beer, Danish amber, Danish design, Danish porcelain, Danish glass, HC Andersen books, etc.

Sandra

Sandra, your English seems to be working fine to me. Don’t put yourself down. It’s amazing how you have expressed yourself so beautifully in ways that go beyond language. :)

It’s sweet of you to mail me something from your country. It will really entice me to visit you. I would suggest you only mail light things; nothing heavy is necessary. And since I don’t drink any alcohol, there’s no need to send beer. (I don’t like the taste – that’s why!)

Good luck with all that you do, Sandra. Stay well and thank you for giving me a big smile. I love imagining you singing my songs. I can share chords with you if you’d like, since I know you also play guitar.

Judy

Dear Judy,

While I sat here and wrote an email to you today, a giant butterfly flew in through the window. I hurried to take a picture with my IPhone. See how nice it is!

I believe it is a message from the sky to you and me – I saw a butterfly like it on your Youtube video, as I was listening to your music. It was such a fantastic experience.

Sandra

Wow! Sandra, that is so strange. I was just working on an image of a butterfly to add to my blog. It’s not the exact same one – but it’s incredibly coincidental.

Butterfly-Lacewing

Judy, Oh … my … God!  It’s incredible! Is it really possible that this is happening? WOW!

I am quite touched, because when the butterfly flew into my room, I could feel “something special in the air” – something divine, and I got up from the E-mail I was going to write to you and took a picture. It was a very special experience … and then you write that you were going to paint a butterfly, which looked very much like the one that came to visit me :)

I am sending a picture of the butterfly! Please, look only at the butterfly and not at my unwashed windows :)))

I am very happy now! Thank you, dear Judy. People say in Denmark: “There is more between heaven and earth than you think!”

THANK YOU FOR A BEAUTIFUL DAY, JUDY!

Love, Sandra

Greek Lineup Tilamook

Hi Sandra,

Yesterday was a special day in many ways. First of all, your messages touched me deeply.

Then in the afternoon I received a very large art assignment that took me by surprise. I thought my career as an illustrator was over because I didn’t have much work for years. But now that I’ve gotten divorced and could really use the income, I’ve been blessed with a wonderful client named Tillamook. They always are wonderful to work with. I’m going to be illustrating ice cream sandwiches for them.

I hope you’re having a nice day. Thank you again for all of those beautiful butterfly pictures.

Take care,

Judy

Dear Judy,

Thank you for your letter, which makes me happy. I am so glad to hear that you’ve got some work. I know it is not easy when you are divorced. I have been divorced since 2004 and know how hard it is to pay all the costs alone.

What a good sign you got with the butterfly – it was quite unique, wasn’t it? I’ve never seen a bigger and more beautiful butterfly in my life! And it flew into my room while I wrote to you – it is so obvious that it was for you! I am so grateful to heaven, to give us signs all the time. Thank you, Lord! And thank you, Judy, for you’ve made my life richer and you’ve made me happy with your art and music.

I like to listen to your songs when you sing and play all alone, without any other music. That way I am not distracted by other tones; I concentrate only on your guitar and your voice. Every time I hear you sing, I cry … when I listened to your song with other instruments, I had goose bumps, but I did not cry because I could not get into the depth of your heart. I was distracted by the other music!

I love your seashell song, it is so beautiful … I feel like going to the beach so I can put my feet in the sand, listen to the sea and sing your songs while I look at the sun going down … my fantasy! I look forward to hearing from you again.

All the best, Sandra

butterfly at the window 1

© 2014 Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

NO ORDINARY PRINCESS – PART 3

August 12, 2014

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

  I share my “castle” with my two sons. I’m glad my youngest son put up this sign after breaking a jar, but he could have done a better job sweeping up the glass.

I share my “castle” with my two sons. I’m glad my youngest son put up this sign after breaking a jar, but he could have done a better job sweeping up the glass.

At the age of 54, I am navigating a new life as a single woman.

I live in the same two-bedroom coop where I grew up and both of my parents passed away in the last few years. I moved here shortly after I separated from my husband in 2012. I was married for 31 years and my divorce only became final a few months ago.

At one point, all three of my children lived with me. There were definitely challenges having one bathroom, which was something I dealt with when I was growing up. For my children it was a little more challenging since their former home had four bathrooms.

My two sons who live with me are 17 and 23. My 20-year-old daughter moved out to live with friends six months ago and thankfully, we are still very close.

It was a huge adjustment for my children when I separated from my former husband. Now that two years have passed, I’ve seen a lot of progress toward healing for them. But occasionally there have been setbacks and difficult moments.

Anger was an emotion that was taboo for me – in my marriage and while growing up. Sometimes, I’ve felt underlying anger from my children because I hurt their father. All of this has been painful.

With my divorce, I was the “perpetrator” and my husband was the “victim.” I carry guilt because I knew my husband had no idea that I would end our marriage after so many years.

My children are not interested in much of what I’m doing and as far as I can tell, that’s pretty typical of kids their age. Yet many times my children have expressed that they hate my music and writing because it caused me to leave their father.

And if my children knew that I called myself a Princess and their father a Dragon – it might upset them even more!

My illustrations adorn all of the Del Monte pickle jars. I'm only sharing this because my son broke a jar of them in the kitchen.

My illustrations adorn all of the Del Monte pickle jars. I’m only sharing this because my son broke a jar of them in the kitchen.

I’ve tried to be the “Queen of the Castle” where I am.

A few months ago when I felt overwhelmed, I encouraged my youngest son to spend time with his father over the summer break. With both my sons gone now on a three-week trip, I am a Queen on vacation!

There aren’t any crumbs and messes for me to complain to them about. The toilet seat hasn’t been left up. And the best part is not hearing the cacophonous sound of shooting from their video game system.

But I do miss their smiles and sweet love. My sons are wonderful men – tall and strong. My youngest son is over 6′ tall so it’s hard for me consider him my baby anymore.

Since I’ve discontinued taking hormones, my emotions have calmed down. Having privacy and quiet time at home has also been like medicine for me; I feel very peaceful. I am determined not to allow my emotions to build up like they did a few months ago.

For this Princess post, I’ve decided to share a story about how I’m not an ordinary Princess because I don’t believe royalty has to kill cockroaches.

Crown & Roach

My roach story starts when I was home with my 17-year-old son about two weeks ago.

We had just finished dinner and he began yelling to me from his room. I was editing music and had my headphones on. It was so annoying and I wasn’t going to yell back. The Princess decided to ignore him unless he actually got up and came into my room.

But in the distance I could hear him still calling me. I slipped off my headphones and said in an exasperated voice, “Is this an emergency? I can’t hear what you’re saying and if you want me you’ll need to come to my room.”

I had just raised my voice and wished I had ignored him better. And because he continued calling me, I became even more irritated.

I probably was annoyed with him also because when I stood up, my foot hurt. It was because I stepped on a piece of glass in the kitchen earlier in the afternoon. He had dropped a jar of pickles before I came home and the house smelled like dill when I walked in.

This was not a castle for a Princess by any means!

I tromped down the hall to his room. “This had better be an emergency,” I announced as I came into his room.

My son was sweating and darting all around me. “Mom! You won’t believe this large cockroach I saw. Will you help find it and kill it?”

After lecturing him about true emergencies, I said, “No! I’m sure there’s plenty more where it came from. Deal with it!” My large son needed to grow up.

I walked out of his room and no sooner had I sat down at my computer, there he was again. I sighed.

He clearly wanted to be with me. I gave up trying to do anything – it was time for me to focus on him and for us to hang out together.

My son sprawled across my bed and told me all the reasons why roaches grossed him out. And the one he saw was so big that he couldn’t possibly go to sleep tonight. I listened to his fears and reassured him; the roach wasn’t going to hurt him.

As he talked, I was glad he had socks on. Sometimes, he brushed flakes of skin from his feet onto my bed.

Finally, he went out of my room and I put my headphones back on. My peacefulness lasted about five minutes. My door flew open. He was panting and begging me to come to his room to rescue him. 

I was resigned as I followed him.

And there it was!

It’s antennae bobbed up and down. It was about 4 inches long and I’d never seen a roach that big. It was on the wall close to the ceiling. I wondered how I could kill that monster without squishing its guts everywhere.

My son was giddy with excitement to know that I was going to take care of it. After a moment of thought, I gave orders. I told him to bring me one of his big shoes and a broom. As he raced to bring me the items, I kept my eye on the roach.

When he handed me a light canvas shoe, I said, “Come on! I need a heavier one to smash it!”

Then I said, “Go get my cell phone and take a picture of this.”

He snapped a single picture of me. Later on, I wished there were some close-ups – but of course, that was risky because it might have zipped away.

I took a deep breath and lifted the broom. My son snapped, “Wait!” He pulled his bed away from the wall so I’d have more room.

I eyeballed the black insect and then swung my broom at it. It fell right off the wall and disappeared.

Who was I kidding? I knew those bugs were fast. Just as I was thinking how I wasn’t swift enough, I saw it on the floor flailing on it’s back.

I calmly took my son’s big shoe and smashed it.

My son began dancing with relief. It was worth everything to see his face.“

Did you see how big it was? I wasn’t exaggerating, was I?” he shouted.

I smiled and told him to get me a paper towel. As I wiped up the bug, my son confessed that the worst part about killing bugs for him was the spurting sound they made when they were squished. I was so proud that I killed it and the wall was still clean.

I dropped the roach’s remains into the toilet and flushed. I made sure the lid was down in case it clawed its way out. That had actually happened to me once before with a roach I thought was dead. Remembering it was enough to give me nightmares!

I was so glad I gave my son the attention he demanded that night. We bonded over this.

I was definitely a hero and not an ordinary Princess!

Be assured – this is a Photoshop re-enactment!

Be assured – this is a Photoshop re-enactment!

Well it turned out that this story has an even better ending than the one of me simply killing a roach.

The next day, my son came home from school and said, “Mom, you’re not going to believe what happened in one of my classes today.”

I listened and tried to keep a straight face when he told me there was a cockroach on the wall in his classroom. It turned out that his teacher was also afraid of roaches. And it was a male teacher, which I found humorous.

My son said, “He went out of the room because it bothered him so much.”

I asked, “So then what happened?”

My son beamed and said, “I saved the day.”

I grinned and replied, “Really? What did you do?”

He said, “Oh, mom! It was so easy – I just took my shoe off and got a broom to knock it off the wall. Then I smashed it, picked it up with a paper towel and threw it away.”

I could hardly believe it.

This was just one of those sweet parental moments – when you realize how much your child has truly learned from you!

There’s something about me holding a broom that is reminiscent of a witch. But I’ll save that thought for the next story.

There’s something about me holding a broom that is reminiscent of a witch. But I’ll save that thought for the next story.

© 2014 Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.


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