Aging Parents | MY JOURNEY'S INSIGHT

Posts Tagged ‘Aging Parents’

WITH ME – PART 2

May 21, 2013

This post is dedicated to my father. Today would have been his eighty-ninth birthday. One year ago today, he went into a coma and died five days later. My song “With Me” was written a month after his death.

Clicking the blue link below plays audio for my song, for which I’ve recorded a new vocal:

I look at the clouds and see your face

You’re watching me; smiling from space

Not sure where I’m going or when I’ll get there

But you are with me; you’re everywhere

When I’m discouraged, sometimes I crawl

You hold me up so I won’t fall

Not sure of my life now or where I will go

But you are with me; that much I know

With me, when I was born

With me as I mourn

With me in every song

You’re with me to keep me strong

With me every day

With me in every way

With me and always near

You take away all of my fear

Not sure of my future, but I’ve always known

That you are with me; I’m not alone

Though I can’t see you; you’re not in sight

Through the darkness you are my light

Not sure what will happen or how things will be

Yet I am certain, you are with me

With me, when I was born

With me as I mourn

With me in every song

You’re with me to keep me strong

With me every day

With me in every way

With me and always near

You take away the fear

With me when I cry

With me when I die

Watching my life unfold

You’re with me, as I grow old

You’re with me . . . as I grow old

My parents’ wedding portrait from 1950.

Oh dad, how quickly this year has gone by since your death. I can easily picture that moment when you died. You opened your eyes and I watched as your soul was lifted to god.

I was so blessed to have such a loving father as you. With mom’s dementia, we became close and were a comfort to each other.

I hated that you suffered so much. Even though you were in terrible pain, you were always worried about me. I miss having you there to worry about me. But on the other hand, I am very relieved that you are not here worrying about me!

I waited until you were gone to end my marriage; we talked about it and you completely supported me. But it was best that you did not witness my transition; it would have caused you great distress.

I loved sharing all of my excitement with you about my journey. At first you were skeptical, but later on you really had so much faith in me. You even listened to many of my audio stories and gave me feedback. I’m sorry that it was painful for you to listen to some of my stories. You said you could not bear hearing about my grief and suffering.

Dad, I still feel blanketed by your love. I look at clouds and imagine you watching me. If I close my eyes, I can hear your voice. When I cry, I feel your tears raining upon me from above.

I stay positive because I prefer for you to beam from heaven instead of crying.

You are with me always.

My parents gave me so much love and I still can feel it.

Things I wish I could tell my father:

Dad, I have been very careful not to let eggshells fall into the sink. You always told me not to put them in the garbage disposal because they turn into sand and cause problems.

I’ve tried hard to continue to grow my fingernails. You were so thrilled about that. Recently, I have had a few lapses where I’ve bitten them, but I’m certain I will overcome this.

I’m sorry we didn’t eat at IHOP (Pancake House) the week before you died. When you started to cry about it, I told you that it was easier to go to a different restaurant that day. I know you wanted me to find ways to make my life easier and I hoped you’d get over it. Now I regret it very much, especially because you went into a coma on your birthday.

Dad, you always raved about the eye surgeon who did cataract surgery on both you and mom. I knew you would have been happy knowing he did my cataract surgery, too. Only a few months after you died, I had my surgery.

I told this doctor how much you worshipped him before he operated on me. Even though he was an excellent surgeon, I know that if you were alive you would be very aggravated about my current situation.

Dad, I still carry your favorite “sand pillow” in my car. You wanted me to have it for you when you went to the dentist. Yesterday, I had an appointment and memories came back to me of us going together to that dentist shortly before you died.

You were in so much pain that day and still grateful that I took you to that appointment. You were elated just to be with me, even if it was going to the dentist!

I try not to correct other people by telling them to say “well” instead of “good.” I wish I felt well, and I try hard to stay positive because you loved me so much.

You would be proud that I am working on an illustration assignment.

And when I spent an hour dealing with Medi-Cal issues for mom yesterday, I could feel your sympathy. I heard you say, “Don’t deal with it, cut back!”

Unfortunately, I must deal with many things related to mom’s care. It is amazing the way she clings to life and I am blessed that she is comfortable and not in pain.

Thank you for leaving enough money to pay for her companion, Miriam.

The sale on my former house is going through. Thankfully, it came just in time so that there will be money for me to buy the coop and have funds to pay Miriam.

Your grandson misses you so much. He treasures the coin collection you gave to him and talks about it all the time. He tells me that he tries not to chew on ice and stands up straighter because he hears your voice. I hear those things, too.

His college graduation is tomorrow. You were trying hard to stay alive to see that day. I know you’ll be sitting right there with us. It is because of you that my son is who he is today. He has grieved you deeply and I remind him that you wouldn’t want him to be sad.

I wish there was some way that my brothers could reunite. I wish I could do more, but honestly I’m incapable right now. If you were still alive, you could not bear this – I know.

I realize now that you planned for me to live at your coop. Thank you, dad. You continue to take care of me from heaven.

© 2013 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.

Tags:"sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, comfort while grieving, composing, dad died, death of a father, father's death, father's illness, grief, GRIEF RELATED, grieving a dad, grieving a father, grieving my dad, guitar, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, original songs, singing, songwriting, with me, writing
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YOU WERE THERE – PART 3

May 10, 2013

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

Click the blue link below to hear my song:

These blue links are to other stories about this song:

YOU WERE THERE – PART 1

YOU WERE THERE – PART 2

YOU WERE THERE

All my life, every day; you were there when I’d need you

all the time, I just knew; you’d be there

and you’d see me through

I’ve always known, I’m not alone . . .

You were so strong; you’d pick me up when I’d fall down

so I can see all the strength you gave me

Although I try, it’s hard to say goodbye

to someone who’s loved me all of my life

and when I’m sad, because you’re not there

I’ll still see your love everywhere

Everything that I did you’d applaud; you were right there watching me

as I grew, sharing joy and my heartache, too

I always knew, that I had you . . .

Now I’m so strong; I picked you up when you fell down

I’ve learned to see just how strong I could be

Although I try, it’s hard to say goodbye

to someone who’s loved me all of my life

and when I’m sad, because you’re not there

I’ll still see your love everywhere

When you are gone, I’ll say a prayer

and I’ll remember how you were there

This picture of my mother and I was taken outside the coop where I am now living.

This picture of my mother and I was taken in the patio of the coop where I am now living. I see my old bicycle in the background.

My father saved a lot of my childhood artwork. I remembered drawing many of these pictures.

This picture is of my mother when she was young. It looks a little strange due to a photographer’s poor retouching. But my mother still looks very beautiful.

I took many pictures of my mother and I holding hands two years ago. I wanted them so I could create a song cover for “You Were There.” Sadly, my mother has had a terrible nail fungus for two years and her hands do not look like this any more.

For several months I was having more and more problems with my eyes. My eyesight consisted of dancing and annoying areas of shadows, fog and blurriness. I was still able to read, work and drive; I was grateful for that. But then I experienced pain; I felt like there were feathers and webs moving inside both my eyes. It became hard for me to keep them open. I played tennis once a week, but was frustrated and felt a lump in my throat as I kept missing easy shots. Perhaps I would take a break from it; I hated the feeling of wanting to cry and smiling for friends.

Because my eyes bothered me so much, going outside in the sunlight and being with people was hard for me. It was usually easier in those situations to close my eyes. I felt best when I was alone in my apartment; I retreated into my own world. I heard music and it took me to beautiful places instead.

Over the past week, I had followed an eye drop regimen to treat what an optometrist labeled “dryness and inflammation.” In one more week, I had the “first available” appointment with my ophthalmologist. I was not optimistic that my problem would improve.

I was angry at my circumstances, while at the same time having extreme determination to accept my fate. But it was quite difficult.

I had a lot of illustrations to create. As I worked, I concentrated and wore powerful glasses to help me see details. I was relieved that I could still illustrate.

Late at night, I allowed myself to edit the vocals that I continued to record. Mother’s Day was right around the corner and I was facing the one-year anniversary of my father’s death. For those reasons, I concentrated on two songs; one was for my mother and the other for my father.

Memories of their love had me very connected to both songs. I found it beautiful how I was able to channel my emotions into singing.

Ever since my father died, I became closer to my two older brothers. Both of them lived nearby. It was comforting knowing that they cared about me.

But sadly, my two brothers were not communicating with each other. I was grateful to have both of them, but sad about their rift and my fractured family.

Every Thursday, I had lunch with my middle brother, my mother, my nephew and my mother’s companion, Miriam.

On Saturdays, I met my older brother and sister-in-law for lunch with Miriam and my mother. Sometimes, a grandchild joined us.

My brother, Howard, is on my left and Norman is on my right. This was taken 13 years ago at my 40th birthday party.

It was Thursday, and I dashed out the door to pick up Miriam and my mother at the nursing home. As I drove, I enjoyed listening to the new vocals that I had been concentrating on all week. I had only finished assembling revised vocal lines at 1 a.m. I wanted to make sure that I hadn’t made any mistakes putting them together when it was so late at night.

But everything sounded great. I always heard things that I wanted to fix, but had to let go of it. I didn’t have time now to fiddle with every song when I had so many to work on. Editing a vocal line probably required at least ten hours for me.

As I listened to my songs on the freeway, my heart was dancing. A few tears escaped and lightly streamed down my cheeks.

I realized that I was glad to be seeing my mother. I couldn’t believe that she was still on this earth. How lucky I was to be able to have lunch with her! I had looked for a Mother’s Day card to give her and my heart ached searching for a card that I knew she couldn’t read. But Miriam would read it aloud to her and display it on her nightstand at the nursing home.

Sadly, my mother’s dementia continued to advance. She became thinner because her memory of chewing and swallowing had faded. Pureed food became necessary, and gelatin had to be added to any liquids.

But she clearly lived for these lunch outings. On good days, she smiled broadly. However, most of time now she was very quiet. When she did try to talk, her words made no sense. Often during these lunches, everyone simply talked as if she wasn’t there. I wondered what she could process and if she was aware of what was going on around her.

Something was definitely keeping her going.

Miriam was waiting for me in the parking lot of the nursing home as I drove up. She pushed my mother’s wheelchair next to my car. I noticed how my mother’s body was in a contorted position and she looked skeletal. In order to get into my car, my mother needed to stand; it was a herculean effort for her.

After Miriam strapped her in, I leaned across my car so I could kiss my mother. There was no doubt that she knew it was me. Whenever I drew close, her eyes beamed with love.

It was clear that my mother was quite exhausted from getting into my car. She began to cough and her spasms were deep; she was rattling with congestion. I reminded myself to call the charge nurse later and check to see if she was receiving breathing treatments.

We arrived at our usual restaurant, and I took a seat. My brother and nephew were waiting for us. I glanced around to look for a certain waitress. In my purse, I had a CD for her. A few weeks earlier, I had told her about my music on my blog. The following week, she warmly hugged me and told me that she had enjoyed reading my stories and listening to my songs. I was touched.

It was always helpful for me to connect with other people by sharing. It gave me a sense of purpose and fueled my journey.

It was interesting though that my middle brother had never heard any of my music. I was hesitant to share a CD with him – I decided it was probably because I didn’t want to impose upon his time. I knew he considered my music and writing a “hobby.”

As I sat looking at my mother across from me, my thoughts drifted. I decided that this was probably my last Mother’s Day with her. It just didn’t seem possible for her to continue this way.

Our lunch went by quickly. My eyes hurt and I closed them whenever possible. I sang in my mind and it relaxed me. I was also preparing myself for the recording session I had in two hours.

Whenever I sang, I was uplifted. I loved connecting with my vocal cords; the sensation was amazing and completely new for me. Singing brought me joy; I even connected with god. Life was great because I had music.

My mother’s cough seemed worse than usual, and it was time to go. I said goodbye to the wonderful people working at the restaurant and hugged my brother and nephew.

Because of my mother’s fatigue, she was unable to stand up in order to get into my car. Miriam ended up lifting her out of her wheelchair like a rag doll. My mother grunted as she collapsed into the front seat.

On a whim, I asked Miriam to take a few pictures of my mother sitting next to me in my car. It didn’t concern me that I had not spent one iota of time on my appearance. I only wished I had thought of it earlier, before my mother became so tired.

As I drove back to the nursing home, I was excited to share my new vocal for “You Were There” with my mother and Miriam. I plugged my iPod into my car’s audio system. For over ten years, my old mini-van did not have a working radio. Now that I was leasing a new car, I loved listening to music and as a result, I really enjoyed driving.

The notes of “You Were There” began to fill my car and all of my sadness dissipated. My heart was bursting with joy.

I looked over at my mother and her eyes were closed. Then I turned around to look at Miriam in the backseat. Miriam was mouthing the words to my song. I could see her eyes were glistening in the sunlight.

We were at a stoplight and I felt compelled to lean close to my mother so I could whisper in her ear. I said, “This song is for you mom. Every word is absolutely true!” I was surprised when she lightly nodded.

A moment later, we arrived at the nursing home. Miriam jumped out and I popped the trunk so she could take out my mother’s portable wheelchair.

My song was almost over. It softly ended with violin strings playing the last note. I gently unbuckled my mother’s seatbelt and she opened her eyes.

“I loved seeing you for lunch, mom.” Then I asked her, “Did you like my song?”

Her lips softly moved. Her words were clear and soft. I was stunned. I felt waves of emotion sweep through me.

Miriam pushed my mother’s wheelchair through the gate and they disappeared.

Like sweet notes of wind chimes, what my mother had clearly spoken aloud continued to reverberate through my mind.

Over and over, I heard her whispered words.

“I like it. It’s beautiful.”

Tags:"sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, Caregiving, composing, creativity, dementia, guitar, I picked you up, inspiration, loss, love for a mother, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother, mother daughter relationship, Mother's Day tribute, mother's illness, Mother's love, Music, original songs, singing, songwriting, tribute to my mother, You Were There
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MY DREAM STILL GLOWS

May 2, 2013

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

Below I share a new vocal for my song “My Dream.” Clicking the blue link plays audio:

Below is a blue link to my story about this song.

Story behind MY DREAM

Currently, I am creating many fruit illustrations for a line of yogurt labels.

It felt strange not to check the box that said “married” when I filled out this form a few weeks ago.

THE PRINCESS AND THE FOG

As the Princess continued her journey, she sometimes wondered how she stayed so strong. She didn’t rely on anyone; she marveled at her strength and determination. What she loved most was that she had not an iota of regret for choosing to follow her heart.

A few months earlier, the Princess emerged from a tunnel into blinding sunlight. But the brilliance quickly faded into darkness. The Princess was able to avoid the holes in her landscape and stayed positive because love continued to light her way. Gradually the inky blackness turned to gray and then the sky became white.

It was then that she noticed a fog had rolled in . . .

The fog was wispy at first, but soon it surrounded her in every direction.

The Princess hated to complain. Despite her awareness that worrying sucked away her energy, she began to wonder if the fog would ever lift. It was extremely annoying. She reminded herself that there was no hurry for her to get to any destination, because she loved where she was going. In her heart, she knew how valuable she was. She loved her journey.

Despite the fog, it was easy for the princess to have faith. When many gold coins suddenly fell in front of her path, it was something she never expected. Material items were unimportant for her, and yet this came at a time when her debt was overwhelming her. She believed there was definitely a message to find with those coins.

But then the fog began to hurt her eyes; and it wasn’t just annoying anymore. The Princess realized she was truly alone, as the fog separated her from a familiar world.

It wasn’t hard for her to be alone, she was just so discouraged by the pain. So she looked at her journey in the fog as an opportunity to find even more clarity.

Her eyes were half closed and she did not have much energy as she gritted her teeth and continued to move forward. Tears spilled down her cheeks easily.

Then the fog began to dance and she felt extreme heaviness. Spider webs appeared in her eyes and she felt her body slowing down. It was exhausting. Now there were silken webs tightening around her feet and pulling with each step. She tried to move, but instead she softly fell to the ground.

Her painful eyes were like slits. She heard a voice and through her half-closed eyes she saw a white spider grinning and cackling at her. The spider was speaking. It’s voice was very familiar and sounded like an old woman.

The Princess asked the spider, “Why are you here?”

The spider answered, “My dear, I am joining you and I know you remember me. There was a time when we spent all of our time together for many, many years.”

The Princess was weak and did not want to answer. But she asked the white spider, “What is your name?”

The spider tiptoed and whispered into the princess’s ear while she was still lying prone on the ground.

“My name is Sadness. Let’s travel together. While I am with you, we can even find many of those old memories that I am a part of.”

The princess felt her eyes glaze over. She was tired of crying and pulling at the webs. It was nice not to be alone anymore. She rested with Sadness and did not move for a long time.

But then the princess began to miss her musical elixir. She softly sang to herself and could feel her soul glowing with pleasure.

Magically, the webs surrounding her body began to melt away.

She ignored the spider on the ground as she stood up.

The white spider began to shriek, “You cannot do that – I am here to stay with you. You have no reason to push me away. I want to keep you company!”

The Princess smiled. She was relieved that she had not lost her ability to smile or sing. She ripped off the remaining webs that bound her and watched them float away. The magical elixir of music continued to fill her heart.

Now that she had vanquished the spider, she was even more certain of her strength. She sang loudly and freely and beamed with an inner glow.

Although her exterior felt ravaged by circumstances, inside she felt quite beautiful. Her appearance might not be sparkling, but that was unimportant for her because she knew it was temporary.

She remained thankful for so many things, but especially to God for giving her the musical elixir to help her. God even blessed her with gold coins to make her journey easier.

There was no reason to stop in the fog. It would lift someday. Until then, sadness would never be her companion again.

And with her music, she was never alone.

Recent email update to my family and friends:

This has been a most difficult time in my life. My eye problems have continued. A month ago I had a laser treatment called a capsulotomy, which treats a common cataract complication. It caused my vision to become clearer, but also left me with more noticeable floaters. I was told that was temporary.

After the procedure, my eyes continued bothering me. I could not shake the feeling that something was inside my eyes; it worsened and became painful. It was like I had spider webs in my eyes! I called my surgeon’s office. The receptionist from the ophthalmology department told me over the phone that it sounded like dryness and I needed to simply use artificial tears. I have been disappointed with the treatment I’ve received since my cataract surgery. When I was told that there were no appointments available, I found myself crying on the phone. Due to my insistence, I was given an appointment to see an optometrist instead.

At that appointment, I was told that my eyelids and tear ducts were inflamed. Steroid eye drops were prescribed and I was told to see my eye surgeon in 3 weeks.

In the meantime, I continue to work on a wonderful illustration project. I am thankful that I can easily see my large computer screen, however, working has certainly made the dryness in my eyes much worse.

My project is going well and is a godsend to my life. So far, my layouts have been well received. I am illustrating fruit, which is my specialty.

There are so many wonderful things in my life that I am grateful for. My daughter found a job, my oldest son is graduating college and my youngest son did an amazing job performing in a play at his new school.

The sale of my former home fell through and now a second buyer is having difficulty getting a loan. It will be two weeks before we will know if this sale will go through. I am not terribly affected by this, but I am concerned about the effect on my son and former husband. I trust that things will work out. If this sale does not go through, our home might sell for even more because the marketplace is excellent at the moment.

Music is still an IV for my soul. Even though I work long hours illustrating, I take breaks to sing and record several times a week. I have already recorded vocals for 24 songs and have 14 left. My voice teacher, Kimberly Haynes, continues to help me sing freely with a great connection to my vocal chords. Also, once a week I work on song arrangements with my arranger George.

My divorce will probably become final around the end of the year. I hope you are well and appreciate all of the support you have given me.

Love, Judy

I am so thankful for my mother’s companion, Miriam, who keeps my mother smiling. I feel very close to her, because she has made such a difference to our family with her devotion to my mother.

Recently, Miriam had a birthday. She cryed with joy as we celebrated it.

Recently, Miriam had a birthday. She cried with joy when we celebrated it.

Guess which is the most important tool I use while illustrating? My iPod!

Tags:acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, beautiful music, Caregiving, childhood friendship, composing, creativity, escape through music, guitar, hopefulness, humor daily life, inspiration, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, metaphors, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, musical comfort, musical inspiration, my dream, optimism, original songs, princess metaphor, singing, songwriting, writing
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IT’S NO SECRET ANYMORE

March 20, 2013

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

I share here a recent new vocal for my song “Set You Free.” In the latter half of my song, I cry while singing because I deeply miss my father who died 9 months ago. Clicking the blue link plays audio:

I also share here a brief recent audio clip from my voice lesson last week with Kimberly Haynes:

LESSON KIMBERLY 3/17/13 BLOG EXCERPT

“Setting myself free”

I had planned to release my first audio book early this year, but now I’ve decided to record new vocals for the songs that accompany my book’s stories. Much of my current writing and new songs are material for a second audio book that I plan to create.

For such a long time, my children and husband were skeptical and annoyed with my confidence about the new direction in my life. I stopped sharing anything about it with them and kept everything to myself. The joy that came from my music and writing was tempered by the fact that my family saw no monetary value in it.

Although my income as an illustrator had considerably shrunk from what it was a decade earlier, I still had a steady revenue from my stock illustrations. I always held out faith that there would be a custom assignment; occasionally they came along to fuel my faith just when my self-esteem was at a low point.

Once again, this happened for me! It might be awhile before I post again because I received a large project this week. I will be painting many fruit illustrations that will be used on yogurt labels for a national brand.

A quick photo taken with my cell phone, I sit in that chair and sing vocals for my songs.

“I go to places that heal me”

I could not have passionately pursued my love for writing and music without separating from my husband. There are arranging and recording costs that I now bear – and gladly. Although my soon-to-be ex thought he was supportive, I felt uncomfortable continuing to spend our money on something he felt was a drain. It was as if I was keeping a secret from him. Initially, I didn’t feel that way. But one day I woke up to the fact that I was only able to truly express myself through my song lyrics. The sadness of that overwhelmed me. People who read my blog and heard my songs understood me better than my own family!

With my separation, I heard this line from my husband of: “You probably need to go out and get a job.” Initially I thought that might be true, especially since I wouldn’t have health insurance.

But life is all about choices. Certainly, when I went to buy my first car in 20 years – I didn’t splurge on a sports car! (I leased a Honda Civic, which I am enjoying). I’ve chosen a frugal lifestyle in order to pursue my passions. With my father’s death, living in the coop where I grew up was a wonderful opportunity for me. I am also thankful to have both of my brothers supporting me in this decision; they have really been there for me. I plan to pay them for their interest in the coop once my former home sells and I receive money from it.

I see great value in what I am doing with my life and where I am going. I am unapologetic. I believe I am the richest woman in the world!

There is a wonderful line in my song “The Unknown.” It is: “I go to places that heal me.” That is what my life is about; I heal myself and hope to heal other people, too.

Below are some words I wrote two months ago. With my divorce agreement pending, it was not in my best interest to talk about how devoted I am to my music.

Prior to rediscovering my love for music and writing at the age of fifty, my career was one as a commercial artist. Throughout the time I was an illustrator, my children were my highest priority.

My firstborn child, Jason died at the age of five. Because he had a congenital heart defect, I needed to by very involved with his care. I was fortunate I worked at home and was able to be alert to his needs.

For many years, I also advocated for my three living children in order to obtain whatever services they needed in school. When I began my blog, I wrote a lot about them and what being an advocate entailed. My motive was to help others who were also struggling with similar issues. I also wrote to release trauma I carried due to many tough situations involving my children.

Six months after writing about those experiences, I deleted most everything that related to my family. In the beginning, they gave me permission to write and share things about them. But many things changed after I suddenly “woke up” and was not the same person I was before I found my joy.

My family did not want anything to change, especially the doting mother that I was before.

When I started writing my blog and singing again I never imagined that I’d find something completely separate from my children to write about!

I was illustrating fruit when I was seven.

My professional fruit illustrations-

I might never have discovered my love for writing and music if my career as an illustrator had continued to keep me busy. When I was receiving a lot of work, I managed to juggle all the things I dealt with related to my children, parents and household responsibilities.

But gradually my workload diminished and custom assignments were rare.

Many of the people whom I worked with in that industry were also left without jobs – art directors, designers and agents; there were so many people who needed to reinvent their careers. I bemoaned how computers decimated artistry and eliminated so much of the human creative process. I complained how digital paintings were nothing compared to my original watercolor paintings. But then I completely readjusted my thinking!

A close-up of one of my watercolor paintings.
I love the fuzz on the stem, which I created with colored pencil.

Music, writing and art combined with my computer have made my world richer than any palace on earth!

I believe that this time period was the perfect one for me to be born into. The computer has allowed me to create things that I never believed were possible. I love how I can type fast and furiously to capture the words I hear in my mind.

But I do not use my computer for composing my songs. They are done with a pen and paper and my beloved acoustic guitar. Writing song lyrics is a process that I find quite mysterious. I do not choose to write them. I hear a song and when I sing, the words are there.

I have composed and recorded unique guitar arrangements for many of my songs. I transfer my recordings to a computer where I can edit them. Then with the help of my arranger, George, instrumentation is added until my song becomes a magical symphony. The process of editing vocals was something I taught myself. I compile a vocal line using the best parts of numerous takes.

Creating unique images for my blog also gives me the opportunity to utilize my artistic abilities on the computer. I’m adept at Photoshop and love using my own artwork and photographs.

Overall, the computer has made writing, music and illustrating fantastic for me. I believe there are no limits to what I can do creatively. And there is one simple reason for it.

It is because I have given myself permission.

At the age of 53, I’ve decided this time is my renaissance. I embrace it and I love it!

My statement of giving myself permission to allow for creativity is a huge one. On so many levels, it is about believing in myself.

I really do feel that I have a lot to offer the world. Allowing myself full creative expression after decades of stuffing everything inside, has allowed me to heal. The musical of my life is exploding from my heart and I cannot hold it back anymore.

Plus, I’ve decided that this is my life and the way I want to live it. Even without a “real job,” I am determined to find ways to continue my renaissance. I have dedicated my life to creating music, songs and stories, which I hope will inspire and heal many people.-

A Recent update:

Dear Family and Friends,

I have a few things I can share – a lot has been going on for me! First of all, my children are doing well. They are adjusting and I am proud of all three of them.

For two months, I have had some continuing eye issues. I followed my good friend, Dr. Sam’s suggestion and saw a retinal specialist outside of my HMO for another opinion. It turns out that the fogginess in my left (and right eye, too) is a separate issue from my floater episode. There is a remaining edge to a cataract, which sometimes intrudes and is cloudy – a simple laser procedure can eliminate the cloudiness and solve my problem.

The procedure is scheduled in two weeks. I am trying hard to find out if it could happen sooner.

My divorce is proceeding. There are many issues left regarding back support and money related to our homes that our lawyers are working on resolving. But child and spousal support has begun for me! The agreement was signed at the end of February.

Our home went on the market a week ago. It sold for well over the list price – we had 8 offers! The housing market is definitely cooking. Escrow opens on Monday and our broker said it would take 17 days to be sure if our sale will go through or not. So I am crossing my fingers. My husband and oldest son do not yet know where they are moving.

My mother continues to hang in there. She cannot communicate much – but she still recognizes family and she can say, “I love you.” I go out with her to lunch in a restaurant two times a week. Miriam (my mom’s companion) dotes on her and my mom adores her.

I am living in a small coop/apartment with two of my children in North Hollywood. I have been devoting myself to my music. I found a wonderful recording studio near my apartment where I am recording vocals for the music CD that will accompany my book. The musician helping me is named Darrin, he is extremely talented and his parents have become wonderful new friends of mine.

But my music must pause briefly because I was awarded a large illustration assignment this week. It will keep me very busy for a while. Things are definitely looking up for me!

Love, Judy

My post title is a line of lyrics from my song “The Door.” I have not yet publicly shared two of my songs. I plan to share my song “The Door” very soon.

Below are clips from a discussion about it with my former vocal coach Peaches in July of 2012. Clicking the blue links play audio:

PEACHES LESSON A – 7/16/12 THE DOOR

PEACHES LESSON B – 7/16/12 THE DOOR

These are my lyrics for “The Door” in progress. These are lyrics that I didn’t use.

Lyrics for “The Door” in progress; I didn’t use these particular ones.

Tags:acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, Art and Illustration, Caregiving, composing, coping with divorce, creativity, digital illustration, divorce after a long marriage, facing divorce after a long marriage, floral painting, gray divorce, grief, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, healing, healing and grief, Illustration, illustrator, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, original songs, separation, separation and divorce, singing, songwriting, voice lessons, watercolor painting, watercolors, writing
Posted in Healing and Hope | 6 Comments »

LIEBSTER AWARD

February 25, 2013

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

I want to thank Tersia Burger. She has nominated me for the Liebster Award.

Tersia writes with heartbreaking honesty. Her writing about her daughter’s life and death really affected me. Tersia’s blog impacted me so much that I dedicated one of my songs to her daughter, Vicky:

Never Gone Away.

It amazes me how as a result of blogging, I’ve formed a wonderful friendship on the other side of the world. Here is a link that shares more about our friendship when it began:

Music Rescued My Soul

Tersia honors me by nominating me for the Liebster award and I humbly accept!

http://tersiaburger.com/tag/liebster-award/

Rules of The Liebster Award

1. You must thank the person who gave you this award

2. You must display the Liebster heart on your blog

3. You should nominate 7 other blogs

4. Each person must post 11 things about themselves

5. Answer the questions given to you by the blogger who nominated you

6. Create 11 questions for those you nominate to answer

7. Notify your nominees and provide a link back to your post

Seven Blogs I Nominate:

http://lunasmoondance.wordpress.com/

http://dailydivorcemeditations.wordpress.com/

http://doyleswidow.wordpress.com/

http://onewomansperspective02.wordpress.com/

http://littlestarslost.wordpress.com/

http://kloppenmum.wordpress.com/

http://wordsfallfrommyeyes.wordpress.com/

11 Things About Me:

1. My children are everything to me.

2. I am amazed at how many chords and lyrics I have memorized. I’ve composed well over 40 original songs and can play all of them by heart. The guitar parts can be quite complicated and some songs are played in several keys. I still remember many of the several hundred cover-songs I used to play, too.

3. I refused to learn how to use a computer and avoided learning to email for many years. So now I am very proud of how proficient I’ve become. I’ve found the computer is an incredible tool that truly assists me with music, art and writing. My excellent English and typing skills have been very useful for blogging. I am adept with Photoshop; it also has been very handy for me. I am proud and grateful that I embraced the digital age after resisting it for so long. I can’t wait to start recording my second audio book!

4. When I began my blog and started writing in 2010, I never would have believed it would lead to me to the decision to divorce my husband after 31 years of marriage.

5. Occasionally, I miss painting with watercolors, but my passion for art has been overshadowed by music. When I record and hear a new song, my heart bursts with joy. I usually cry when I’m singing. My songs are like babies. Nothing moves me like music.

6. I treasure my smile. I love to laugh and enjoy telling puns. It both irritates and amazes my friends.

7. I am very dangerous on the tennis court. All of the women whom I play women’s doubles with would agree. It is such great therapy for me to hit a tennis ball. Unfortunately, it is embarrassing when it rockets into my opponent’s face!

8. Although my mother has dementia and cannot understand much, she lights up when we’re together and exudes deep love for me. I bask in her light and appreciate that I’ve had her as long as I have; she is a miraculous survivor. She inspires me with her ability to hang in there, and I believe it’s because of her deep love for life and family.

9. I miss my father who died last year. But I feel him with me, especially since I sleep in the same bed and bedroom where he used to.

10. I love to write and express myself. My guitar is my best friend. I especially love dreaming about where my life will go. But if it remains the way it is now, I’m perfectly fine with that.

11. I am extremely open and honest. I can easily share my intimate feelings. My music rediscovery blossomed as a result of my opening up and I know that I’ve touched many people with my writing and music. When I began my blog, I shared many personal details about my children because my life was focused upon them for many years. I am grateful that I was able to move from writing about them to discovering my own life!

MY ELEVEN QUESTIONS TO ANSWER FROM TERSIA:

1) Are you addicted to your STATS?

Unfortunately, yes. Sometimes, I’ve added up the minutes per day checking them and realize it takes up a lot of my time. But I keep doing it!

2) What country do you live in?

The United States.

3) How many friends would you have on a major birthday party guest list?

I loved my fiftieth birthday where my dear tennis friends surrounded me. I also loved my fortieth birthday, which was a surprise party given to me by Norm and Jo (my brother and sister-in-law) and my parents. For my next major party (sixtieth) I’d definitely want my children there and perhaps 20 friends.

4) What is your favourite post?

My favorite post on my blog is: All I have left after the death of my child. I love it because it crystallizes everything that I express with my writing and music. The picture of my deceased son, Jason, biking with ET, gets me every time. He was such a happy child!

Inspiring hope of healing is what Jason wants me to share with the world. Our love is as deep as it was when I last cradled him in my arms, even though it has been twenty years since he died.

–

5) Who is your inspiration when writing?

Since childhood, I’ve written hearing a voice in my mind that I’ve called “Judy of the Future.” I always listen for her wise voice. I do believe that God inspires me now. I lived without faith and disliked religion for years, even more so after my son’s death. But now I feel blessed and inspired. I understand my purpose in life and accept that I’ll die someday. My life is precious.

6) Introvert or extrovert?

Both. I love playing my guitar and writing while alone. I also love sharing with other people. I have a lot to say in both cases!

7) Why do you read my blog?

I came across your blog, Tersia, while searching for blogs about grief. I wanted to carry my message of hopefulness to people in deep grief. But your blog had me bawling because unlike helping people who have lost a child, your daughter was still alive and suffering. I couldn’t imagine anything I could do to help. I didn’t expect to hear back from you when I shared my song “Set You Free.” Then you turned my world upside down by posting it and announcing how my song helped you. What more is there in life than to make a difference to another human? When you told me that Vicky listened to my music while she was dying; I cried picturing that!

8) Favourite quote?

“Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.” Norman Cousins

9) Favourite holiday location?

Right where I am. Since I’ve given myself permission to pursue my passionate love for writing and music – my life is like a holiday. I am a workaholic who doesn’t feel like it’s work.

10) How long have you been writing?

I discovered I loved writing in the sixth grade when I was eleven years old. My teacher was certain I’d be published someday. I tried to share with her that I published a maze book when I was in eighth grade, but she had already moved away and I didn’t know how to contact her.

–

Autograph Book from Elementary School

11) Favourite TV show?

This is hard to answer. It’s embarrassing because I hate television with a passion. It was always turned on in my bedroom and I searched for ways to ignore it; listening to music helped somewhat. If I could travel back in time to when I did enjoy TV, it was a very long time ago. Okay, here it is: Thirtysomething. It was such a wonderful show and I still remember many of the episodes.

I love old pictures. I was about 9 years old in this photo with my mother and brother, Norm.

11 Questions For My Nominees:

1. Are you able to express your true feelings? When you can’t, how do you deal with it?

2. Do you wake up to write because it can’t wait?

3. Do you love chocolate? If not, what is your favorite delight?

4. Is exercise a chore or something you enjoy?

5. Do you imagine what you will be doing ten years from now? Will you be happier?

6. What is your favorite color and how does it make you feel?

7. Are you good about backing up your computer?

8. What is your favorite song that moves you?

9. What is your favorite post on your blog?

10. Do you dream?

“You’ve inspired me to write – Part 1”

I love inspiring other people.

A week ago, I spoke to a woman named Carol whom I reached out to on a Facebook grief site. We had some lovely exchanges, which I’ve already shared on my blog.

Last week, I received a message from Carol with a request from her for us to talk on the telephone. We both live on opposite coasts of the USA; Carol lives in New Jersey and I live in Los Angeles.

I called her and we were both on the phone for two hours. Carol wanted to discuss ways that I could share my music and writing with more people. It was very exciting for me to hear her ideas. I began to dream again about where my book and music would go.

Finally, I told her I was tired. I was going to go and pluck my guitar before going to bed.

I ended up propping up the phone on my music stand and playing a concert for her!

I sang while bending over near the phone. When I finished my first song, I picked up the phone. It was quiet, so I said, “Carol, are you still there?”

I heard a sniffle and her voice was teary as she said, “Oh my god, oh my god, you are making me cry – keep it coming, girl!”

I couldn’t believe that I was playing my guitar to someone I had just met over the phone!

Our exchange ended with Carol gushing, “Judy, you’ve inspired me to write again! My family can’t believe it. I made them all listen to your audio stories – it was important for me to do that because I wanted them to understand the depth of my pain losing my son. You have an amazing way of conveying that. I want to thank you for changing my life!”

This was taken at an open-mic performance where I courageously sang without my guitar!

“You’ve inspired me to write – Part 2”

I was smiling when I saw that Tersia had nominated me for the Liebster Award. I needed that smile because my day had been particularly challenging.

Tersia had posted something about eagles two days before. After studying the requirements for my Liebster Award, I carefully re-read her earlier post. It was all about eagle chicks and what their mother would do in order to teach them to fly.

Her post had me rolling on the floor. It was such a perfect post for my day! I was completely stressed out from issues with both my teenagers.

I wondered how in the world I was going to keep pushing my children without being hated! This was the hardest job in the world and I wished I knew what to do. But after reading about eagle moms, I had a much lighter feeling and a far better perspective. Instead of worrying whether my children might hate me, I needed to continue pushing because otherwise I would actually cripple them.

This was her post and I highly recommend it to any parent with teenagers: I WANT TO BE AN EAGLE

Though I appreciated Tersia’s timing, I was very sad to read that she felt she had smothered her daughter; she ached because her daughter never had the chance to leave her nest. Tersia’s longing and torment was inconsolable.

Suddenly, I felt compelled to write a story about Tersia and Vicky. It was so vivid! I emailed my story to Tersia and this was what she wrote back to me:

“Thank you Judy for writing Vic and my story. I have decided to try to publish a book on Vic’s journey. I don’t have a clue how to go about it but I know, that with your permission, this will be the foreword of the book! Thank you, dear friend.”

ANGEL MOMMY AND ANGEL BABY

The mommy eagle awaited the arrival of her baby chick. But when the time came, her baby was flaccid and close to death. There was little chance her sickly baby would survive. The eagle mom decided to name her child angel baby and prayed she would not lose her. The name was perfect, because her baby continued to live despite all odds.

But the eagle mom was not an ordinary mom; she was actually an angel mom and that was why an angel baby was borne to her. Both of them were special beyond description and surprisingly, neither one knew it.

But everyone around else did. There was no other explanation as to how her baby chick survived. It definitely was miraculous.

Every ounce of the angel mom’s soul went into helping her baby survive. Her baby fiercely clung to survival because of her mother’s love.

While other eagle mom’s had babies that flew, this angel mom had a child that would never fly. How she wished she could help her baby! She decided that not only would she devote herself to her child’s survival, she would teach her sickly angel baby to fly without ever leaving the nest! There were other ways her baby could fly and together they discovered beautiful ways.

It was their secret and her angel baby loved flying. She closed her eyes when she flew; her beauty was exquisite and she glowed.

Angel mom was so devoted to her baby that she never allowed herself to fly. She chose to only fly while holding onto her baby. She never understood that it was this connection that actually gave her baby the ability to fly.

Soon her baby eagle grew up. Her angel baby treasured her amazing life. Her ability to fly without wings was a secret. To outsiders, she appeared to be a suffering and deformed creature.

Eventually though, it was time for the angel chick to fly alone; now she would go to places in heaven. And one day, she would be reunited with her angel mom and together they would fly again.

When angel baby left for heaven, angel mom was heartbroken and suffered horribly. Even though this was something both of them had anticipated for a long time, angel mom had no idea what to do.

Angel mom cried and cried. She wondered why other people had babies that could easily fly and didn’t leave for heaven prematurely. Typically, babies were set free to live.

Instead, she was forced to set her baby free flying to heaven!

Even though she had helped her angel baby to fly secretly during her difficult life, angel mom had no idea how to fly herself.

She was tormented with longing for her angel baby and felt truly alone.

Angel baby didn’t want to leave and was very worried about her angel mommy. In her short life, angel baby touched many people with her courage. She actually flew farther than any eagle could.

She decided to carry a message to her mother. She whispered a story to a friend to share with her angel mommy.

With her story, angel baby reminded her mommy that setting her free was beautiful; just as she had gifted her with life, she had gifted her with death.

All children must be set free. Angel baby wanted to thank her mom and remind her mommy it was time for her to learn to fly. It was never too late!

Angel baby wanted her mommy to know that she was capable of flying. Angel mom would inspire many others to join her while she soared.

© Judy Unger and
http://www.myjourneysinsight.com
. 2013. 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.

Tags:"sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, awards, blogger, child's death, composing, creativity, Daily Life, daughter vicky, death of a child, Friendship, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, hopefulness, http://dailydivorcemeditations.wordpress.com/, http://doyleswidow.wordpress.com/, http://kloppenmum.wordpress.com/, http://littlestarslost.wordpress.com/, http://lunasmoondance.wordpress.com/, http://onewomansperspective02.wordpress.com/, http://tersiaburger.com/tag/liebster-award/, http://wordsfallfrommyeyes.wordpress.com/, Humor, humor daily life, inspiration, Liebster Award, loss, lovesong, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, optimism, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, Tersia Burger, writing
Posted in Uncategorized | 5 Comments »

I AM THE SANDWICH – PART 2

February 17, 2013

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

Seeing what I wrote three years ago reminds me that my former life was definitely a ‘hero sandwich.” My current life is less complicated and I am thankful that I have music and writing to soothe myself.

Below is a link to:

I AM THE SANDWICH – PART 1

My life completely turned around when I began my rediscovery of music and writing. Today, I received a message from WordPress congratulating me on the third anniversary of my blog. On my first blog anniversary, I was so enamored about my journey that I created a special post filled with pictures. Here is a link to it: ABOUT MY STORY

On this third year, I had completely forgotten about it!

I truly am a member of the sandwich generation. The year when both my parents lived with me was definitely the most challenging time I experienced as a sandwich. During that time seven years ago, my mother was ill and I also had three children that required a great deal of my attention.

At this moment, I am responsible for two teenagers. My father died eight months ago and my elderly mother is in a nursing home. There are constant challenges for me as I wade through divorce after 31 years of marriage. I am squeezed so much that occasionally it is unbearable.

I also realize that I have a different take on things. Perhaps it was because I experienced the death of my child that I have less fear to follow my convictions. I’m certain that the process of seeing my parents’ decline also brought me to a place of courage. It enabled me to end my marriage.

Two years ago, my mother fell and broke her hip; I was told she needed surgery to repair it. I refused to allow her to have that surgery for many reasons. A year earlier, I had listened to doctors who insisted that my mother have shoulder surgery after a fall. As a result of that surgery, my mother had complications and ended up on a respirator for two months. It was a miracle that she survived; she had an immune disorder and was very fragile. Her hands were always tied because she was an uncooperative patient.

Refusing hip repair surgery was a gut-wrenching decision to make. I was told she probably wouldn’t survive the weekend, and she was placed on hospice. I was very thankful that she was not in pain.

Well, not only did my mother survive, she was even able to walk again! Her hip fracture healed. Unfortunately, her dementia continued to advance and she can no longer converse. I am grateful she is comfortable; she smiles and recognizes people whom she loves.

My mother thrives because my brothers and I pay for her to have a companion at the nursing home where she is. Her companion’s name is Miriam. I have written about Miriam many times on my blog. She is very special to me.

“No Hospitalization”

After my mother recovered from her hip fracture, my father and I were in agreement about creating a “no hospitalization” order for both him and my mother. He was adamant that neither of them would ever suffer in a hospital again.

For my mother, it meant she would never again face the nightmare of restraints to prevent her from pulling out tubes. For my father, it gave him great relief. He was furious about the “so called” non-invasive procedures that had caused him agonizing pain; doctors had extended his life in a way he considered to be torture.

On the morning of my father’s 87th birthday last May, he was unable to be awakened. Only a week before, he actually told me that his birthday wish was to be dead. I followed my father’s instructions and did not allow his nursing home to transport him to a hospital.

I didn’t realize that my father’s wish was such an aberration. It was very clear that the nursing home preferred to send my father to a hospital to die.

My goal was to keep him as comfortable as possible in his bed at the nursing home until his death. It was a huge challenge because there was great resistance to providing him with adequate pain medication. I wondered why it had to be so difficult.

My father suffered a lot the year before his death.

My father suffered greatly before his death.

“My heart pounded as I waited”

I was shopping and loading my car up with groceries when Miriam called me. Her voice was filled with terror when she said, “Judy, the nursing home just called 911!”

I quickly hung up and told her I’d call her back. I immediately called the charge nurse at her facility and was placed on hold to wait for more information. Questions swirled through my mind – why hadn’t I been notified sooner? What had happened to my mother’s “no hospitalization” order? My heart pounded as I waited.

Only the day before, my mother and I had gone out to lunch and she seemed fine. As I waited, I pictured the charge nurse running to stop the paramedics from transporting my mom to a hospital.

It actually happened. The paramedics were instructed not to transport my mother just as they were getting ready to take her to an ambulance.

It turned out that my mother had a violent coughing spell. It caused her to vomit a small amount. Her vital signs dropped after that, although she was fine a few moments later. But the charge nurse was new; she had already called 911 because she panicked.

It turned out that my mother’s “no hospitalization” order was a surprise to many of the staff there.

I had no idea it was so rare. For me, it was a no-brainer. Hospitals were torture chambers for both my parents. Even my mother-in-law had begged me to help her get out of a hospital shortly before her death.

The charge nurse came back on the phone to reassure me that she had stopped the paramedics. I grilled her about why I hadn’t been notified of a problem sooner. I was upset and tried to understand, but it wasn’t easy.

I was still sitting in a parking lot with groceries in my car. I decided to drive to her facility. As I pulled out of the parking lot, Miriam sent me a message. She said the paramedics had left; my mother seemed fine and was sleeping.

I ended up driving home and wasn’t sure what I’d do after that. I was exhausted and had a lot of groceries to put away; all of the ice cream had already melted. In only a few seconds, I went from enjoying my day to feeling quite stressed.

This was a perfect story about my life as a sandwich. I attempted to use humor to dispel my aggravation because I was relieved that my mother was okay. Later in the day while I was in the shower, I received a voicemail message from the head nursing supervisor. She told me she was very sorry and it wouldn’t happen again.

My mother no longer has her hair colored; she is too agitated to allow it.

“The Next Day”

My story might have been over at this point. But it is not. The next day, I took my mother out to lunch again with Miriam. My mother looked fine and I celebrated that she was still alive and not in pain.

But Miriam needed a lot of reassurance from me. She encountered many opinions from the staff at the nursing home. She had no idea how to respond to what she had heard and was quite worried.

It upset me so much that I felt the need to write.

This is what “no hospitalization” means to me:

It means that I don’t want my mother to needlessly suffer. But her ailments can still be treated. It is not the same as a “do not treat” order.

It does not mean that I want my mother to die.

It does not mean that I believe her life is unimportant.

I simply don’t want her life extended in a way where she would suffer. Especially with dementia, there is no purpose for her to ever be intubated again. There is no hospitalization if she has a stroke or heart attack.

If she broke her arm, I would probably allow for treatment at a hospital. The nursing home would discuss this with me first. Currently, my mother receives monthly gamma-globulin infusions that extend her life.

When this happened, Miriam listened to a lot of ignorant statements from the nursing home staff. She told me they discussed the situation aloud in front of her.

Here was what she heard:

“If Shirley has a no hospitalization order, why does her daughter complain to us when her mother has mouth sores or red eyes?”

“If Shirley has a no hospitalization order, why does she receive gamma-globulin infusions? What is the point?”

“If Shirley has a no hospitalization order, why does her family provide a companion?

Thankfully, I have a blog where I can freely express myself.

I had courage when my mom broke her hip. Now I have courage to follow what I believe in. I am shocked that having this order is considered something rare and “outside the box.”

There are those who believe in spending countless dollars to extend the suffering of terminally ill patients. I am proud of my willingness to go against medical professionals who believe they know what is best for my mother. I am so sorry for elderly people who do not have an advocate!

I have chosen my path and even if no one at my mother’s nursing home understands my reasoning – I stand by it.

I love my mother and celebrate her quality of life.

This picture was taken the day after 911 was called.

Tags:"sandwich generation", Advocacy, Aging Parents, broken hip without surgery, Caregiving, dementia, elderly directives, end of life decision, father's illness, inspiration, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, no hospitalization order, nursing homes, refusing to go to a hospital
Posted in Hip fracture-no surgery | 5 Comments »

I’LL TRY HARD NOT TO CRY

January 24, 2013

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

When I listen to my most recent musical creation, I am taken straight to heaven!

Clicking the blue link, will play my song:

My post title is a line of lyrics from my song “Never Gone Away.” Many of my songs have evolved and changed. I was amazed how at the same time I decided to do a new arrangement for “Never Gone Away,” I befriended a mother and her dying daughter.

My song turned into something completely different from where it started!

I have tried and tried to find a replacement line for “I’ll try hard not to cry.” Those words are not really positive, but they are honest.

Denying tears is very common. Since the feeling behind my song was about a mother saying goodbye to her dying daughter – I channeled what I imagined was the mother’s tremendous stoicism.

After my son died, I released my stoicism and constantly cried when I was alone. My favorite places to cry were in the shower or when I was driving. I wrote that during my bereavement, I cried enough tears to fill an ocean.

I believe in tears. I think crying is a healthy outlet. Tears lead to healing and releasing them are very important. But somehow, as the years went by – I stopped expressing myself in many ways. I preferred to deny tears, and soon ended up feeling nothing at all.

I appreciate my life now so much because I can express my emotions after decades of a zombie-like existence.

Although I do wish I were more joyful; I have no doubt that I will be again. Currently, I have extremely stressful circumstances in my life. I feel confident that I am coping as I continue to compose, write, edit my book, as well as support two teenagers.

Recently, some of my friends have remarked to me that my blog has been too sad. I even heard this: “There are plenty of suffering people in the world; reaching out to them is unhealthy and is bringing you down.”

I do realize that my friends are concerned about me; their intentions were caring. However, I feel I must disagree.

I feel a kinship with bereaved people.

For people who have not truly suffered, that might be difficult to understand. It is unimaginable unless you’ve experienced the torture of trying to get through every second of your day while your mind screams out in pain.

I have written about ways to help and connect to grieving people. But sadly, many people prefer to run the other way. Connecting is the last thing they want to do.

The irony is that grief is random and can strike anyone. No one knows when he or she might join those awful ranks.

My kinship with bereaved people is all related to my healing. I reached out to other bereaved people even when I was in terrible pain. That is why I often recommend that grieving people hold the hands of others who are grieving so they can crawl forward together. I know that it was very helpful for me.

And now that I am much father along on my grief journey, I can offer so much more and receive back even more.

I have a wonderful way of looking at what I can do to help people grieving.

I am a butterfly.

My wish is to help those who are suffering understand that the darkness of grief could be a cocoon from which some day they will emerge. There are no guarantees, but I offer that possibility.

I am sincere when I say that I am not suffering anymore over my child’s death. I feel peaceful on his birthday and death anniversary. I have reached a place of acceptance!

I still cry when certain memories surface and even while singing. I allow it because I treasure those beautiful emotions. When I think of my dead child, I am uplifted into peacefulness and spirituality.

When I wrote the lyric line “my lovely light, just not in sight,” I allowed my subconscious to channel those feelings.

Helping grieving people reminds me of my blessings.

Instead of bringing me down, nothing has ever lifted me up more than knowing I have made a difference for someone who is in terrible pain.

Sometimes, life holds challenges at every turn. There are many forms of grief and pain. It is appropriate that I am hurting as I wade through a divorce, watch my mother deteriorate with dementia and cope with eyesight issues.

At this moment, I am grieving other things in my life. That is why I have announced that I am still healing. I achieved clarity with my friends’ concerns. It was understandable for them to feel that way, because I even wrote on my blog that: “I absorbed their pain.”

But I realize that I carry only my own pain dealing with current challenges, which has been lightened as I help others.

The process of healing accelerates for me with the knowledge that I am capable of healing!

I celebrate that I’m no longer anguished over my son’s death anymore. I allow for tears and celebrate my ability to inspire others to heal.

For me, nothing could be healthier!

This is a picture from Jason’s last birthday, 4 months before he died.

I love seeing my big smile (this is from when I was 18), which I plan to never lose.

I continue to share my recent musical creations. Recently, I expanded upon one of the songs that will be part of my audio book. It is an arrangement of a guitar instrumental piece, which I named Farewell. It was recorded in 2010 and my story about it was named MY FAREWELL TO MUSIC.

The word “farewell” stirs up memories of a poignant goodbye. I’ve said before that I believe life is all about arrivals and departures.

A big thank you is due to my childhood friend, Steve de Mena, who is responsible for creating fabulous mixes of my songs on Protools, in addition to sharing and teaching me the program.

Click the blue link below to play my song:

FAREWELL-1/20/13 Guitar Instrumental

I enjoy reading other people’s blogs. One special blog that has been especially helpful for me is: Daily Divorce Meditations. The author, Dee Dee Wood recently commented on my blog, which really touched me. She wrote:

Judy… every time I re-read this story about the loss of your son… I just want to reach through the computer and hug you as hard as I can… D.

Today, when I was writing this post, I stopped for a moment to read her blog. It knocked me over because her words related perfectly to what I was writing! Here is a portion of what she wrote:

Being of service, being the light in someone else’s day, putting my own problems aside to share my strength, hope, experience with others, reminds me to be grateful for the day, and how much I have to give to those in need.

Sometimes I can be oblivious to what is really going on inside of me, until I have some type of revelation. Overwhelmed by too many commitments, struggling with issues regarding my self-esteem, worn, tired, straying from my spiritual path, it is as if my Higher Power suddenly throws someone directly in my way, who says the exact words I need to hear, or gives me exactly what I need in my life, to have a moment of clarity that brings my true world back into focus.

january-22nd

On my last post, I had a Facebook exchange with a woman named Carol. Our on-line conversation continued the next day. I share her words now (in brown).

Hi Carol, It was nice to hear from you. By the way, yesterday I mailed you a CD.

    OMG, YOU MAILED IT YESTERDAY? I AM LOOKING FOR IT, GIRL!     I am so excited about getting your CD.     My husband listened to some of your songs and he loved what he heard and wants more! LOL

That’s beautiful that your husband listened!

I love all your songs, but I need to understand how to read a blog. I don’t have much experience there, but I will learn. I love you, Judy. You will never know what you have opened my eyes up to. I have written songs since the age of 13. I stopped writing, since my son died. No, even before. I have tons of stuff I have written, just scared to show anybody. But you lit a fire underneath me.    

Don’t overwhelm yourself. Just remember, writing can start with a simple memory. I started my blog by reconnecting with a woman whom I helped with grief only two years after my son died. She continues to be very supportive of my writing.

You know, I have won awards for some of the writing…nothing that means anything. Just little things .

No award is a little thing! You have talent and it has been latent. Now those seeds can grow. I  lived for 30 years without my songs. I did rewrite lyrics for my son’s funeral to help myself get through it. But in 2010, I picked up my guitar at a very low point. My mom was ill and I felt completely alone in the world. Music healed all of my pain. I rediscovered my songs and then started writing new ones. I progressed so much in such a short time. But most of all, I discovered joy again. My songs erupted and I wrote a song named “The Unknown.” It expressed how unhappy I was with my marriage. Then I wrote a song to help me find my courage.

I never believed much in God, but decided that I was blessed by this gift. I am going to get through any challenge because music helps me! If I can help you, then God is allowing me to spread my blessing. I share to help others feel better and inspire hope. Carol, please know that your gift is waiting to be reopened and to shine. It never left and will blossom as you express and free yourself from pain!

I don’t know where to start…

Why don’t you start a blog? Just write and write – it’s kind of like a journal. You might also find other people reading your words and responding – it grows and grows!

Wow, this sounds like a great idea… but you’re going have to walk me through it.   I love you, Judy.

I love you too, Carol. I will gladly help you. There’s no way you can fail! I was just writing a story about why I am so involved with grieving people. I am perfectly fine with what I’m doing and if people find it sad, they can read something else!

All your stuff, is absolutely amazing.       I am divorced and am remarried.  I cheer you on to share the beauty that is in your heart with others.  You are a beautiful thing.

Thank you for believing in me. I actually believe someday I will reach a lot of people. For me, the destination is not as important as the journey. I am staying positive despite unbelievable challenges. I wasn’t meant to be exposed or find fame until the time is right. God continues to bless me with more knowledge and my voice has also improved since I didn’t sing for 30 years.

Leaving my husband was the only way I could do this; to have the courage. I believe I will even touch more people than just those who have experienced grief. There are a lot of divorced women who will be cheering me on!

You have had to overcome challenges that even I don’t know I could have done.

Thanks, Carol. I go back and forth between writing to you and writing my story. Writing to you is part of my story and crystallizes everything. It doesn’t bring me down when I can inspire you to rise up. That was what I was writing about!

Tonight, I had a friend help me in my new digs set up a microphone for recording. I have a lot of songs that need new vocals. Once I get my book done, I’ll be starting a second one with lots more songs!

Judy, I will never judge you, just encourage you, edify you and pray for you, because I know you would do the same for me. I have not scrolled through all my poems, all my songs, until I met you. You have actually inspired me to write again. My husband can’t believe it.

Then I thank you for adding to my beautiful story about why I love what I am doing. It’s all about love. I healed from my grief because of my love for my son and what he wanted for me. You will heal, Carol. It is so hard – but I see it!! I am going to go to bed now – but I have a smile on my face.

The best part about writing is that it is so healing. I waited 18 years, but if you can do it after six years – you can inspire even more people about healing!

Recent email message to a friend:

Sunday, January 22^nd

It was so nice of you to be concerned about me. I have not been emailing my friends as much, but I have been writing a lot for my blog. I am still in limbo as far as signing a divorce agreement.

Lately, I’ve been reaching out to other grieving people to offer comfort. A friend told me that it probably wasn’t good for me to do this because it was “bringing me down.” But the truth is that I am down and helping people gives me a lot of satisfaction.

I have not felt great physically. Today, I had a bad experience. I saw something black go into my vision – then it dissipated into threads and my vision was foggy in that eye. I went to Urgent Care and the ophthalmologist who examined me said it was a large new floater and there was retinal blood in the back of my eye. But my retinas were intact and eventually I would get used to this new floater, which I’ll add to my collection. Ironically, it looks like a music note!

My vision is so annoying and looks worse than before my cataract surgery. 50% of the vision in my left eye looks brown. I’m trying not to let it make me miserable, but it hasn’t been easy.

I can share that I have been doing wonderful things musically. I’ve created about five new arrangements in the last few months. Last week, I wrote a beautiful new song and I love it. I’ve also started taking voice lessons with a new teacher. She is wonderful and I hear so much improvement already!

So that is my life in a nutshell. I hope you are doing well. You know I often think of you and care about you very much.

Love, Judy

Ps. My mother continues to hang in there, but when I saw her yesterday, she did not look well. She had mild pneumonia and a urinary tract infection last week. On Saturday, I visited her but she would not open her eyes to look at me. I have done well accepting that she has left my life.

Tags:"sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, Caregiving, child's death, compassionate friends, composing, creativity, death, death of a child, dementia, floaters, Friendship, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, healing and grief, healing from grief, helping others, hopefulness, inspiration, instrumental music, instrumentals, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mental-health, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, musical arrangements, musical inspiration, optimism and grief, original songs, songwriting, spirituality, uplifting music, writing
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MEMORIES I TREASURE

December 21, 2012

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

My post title is a lyric line from my most recent song “Music Saved Me.”

I do have a strong attachment to memories. My memories might involve “objects,” but those objects only serve as a way to remind me of memories filled with special people whom I’ve loved. Some of those memories are sad.

Currently, I’d like to think that I am creating happier memories. There are many “firsts” in my life, as I am now living on my own at the age of 53 for the first time in my life.

A picture from when I was 17.

I understand why exciting things in my life can cause me to feel sadness. For decades, I relied upon my parents to cheer me on. Sadly, I didn’t share much with my husband.

Somehow, simply knowing that I can write freely has allowed me to dispel much of that sadness. Finding the courage to change my life, gave me the clarity to know that I was alone for far longer than I realized.

Not being able to express myself was far lonelier than anything else.

Now I can share my insights by writing. But my true expression has been through my music. I am joyful and dancing along to exquisite new songs arrangements that I work on weekly.

This image is from a video of one of my performances at Kulak’s Woodshed. Sometimes the video has images that overlap, and I can see myself playing in the refection.

Recently, I told a good friend that my music has allowed me to “keep my sanity.” Later on, it dawned on me that those were not the best choice of words.

Even though I’ve written that “music saved me,” the fact is that I survived the death of my child without any music to help me. I wasn’t insane then, just sad. I see a far more positive way of looking at what my music does for me.

My beautiful music inspires me and gives me tremendous appreciation for life.

After I wrote of my memories related to my old Previa, I read a post on another blog that really spoke to me. I share an excerpt below. The author is D.D. Wood and her blog always carries such insightful words and beautiful photography (the image above, for example). D.D. is also an established singer/songwriter who has performed in various Disney films. Her blog can be found by clicking this link: Daily Divorce Meditations

“When I first went through my divorce, my feelings and my memories were so intense that they often hindered my progress in the present.

I spent so much time examining what had happened in my past, turning over each and every memory to see if it held the answer to what went wrong, that I wasn’t living in the moment.

I found myself unable to recover from my pain because I was constantly reliving it.”

MEMORIES OF MY 1993 TOYOTA PREVIA

I created a rendition of my old Previa going to heaven, which begins my post.

I ended up giving my car to my former housekeeper, Rosa who worked with our family for 23 years. Certainly, I was happy if she was able to get a little extra money at the junkyard for it. She was over this evening and I was able to show her my “dead minivan going to heaven” image. Then she told me something interesting.

She told me she gave the minivan to a neighbor with a large family who planned to fix it. It turned out that it would actually benefit two families. The husband’s sister had cancer. His wife’s sister was recently diagnosed with cancer also. The van would help them transport all of their children during this crisis. I was touched hearing this and imagined I might see my old car on the road someday; something I didn’t expect!

Now, I want to share some memories about the very first new car I ever owned. The excitement about my 1993 Previa lasted only a few months. The Northridge earthquake came along and my car became dented in many places because so many items in the garage fell on it.

I took that as a sign to get over keeping it like new. It was the perfect “mommy van” and later on “elder van.” It survived two major accidents and worked great for all the years I needed it to. The first accident happened when my daughter was a toddler. Five years later when my youngest son was born, my husband had an accident due to his fatigue.

Both times the car could be repaired.

On family vacations, our mini-van was packed and there was no end to fighting between our three children. There never was a pleasant car ride. I am traumatized remembering my husband’s booming voice yelling at them, as well as my own shrill pleas for them to stop fighting.

My children continued to grow. When they were older, I was buying huge amounts of household items and food every few days at Costco. My minivan was very useful for that.

But I had no pride in my vehicle. It attracted shopping cart dents. Eventually, none of the seatbelts retracted well and my husband would curse trying to put one on. I gave up trying to clean it. I even made a note of how long I could go between car washes. My last car wash was two years ago.

When my parents became infirm, the back area that once stored strollers was excellent for wheelchairs. In the beginning, a wheelchair was very heavy for me to lift. Later on, I learned how to easily fold it up and heave it into the trunk area.

My Previa had 215,000 miles on it. Only a year ago, I endangered my life when the drive shaft almost broke apart while I was driving on the freeway. I knew I deserved a newer car, but didn’t care. My car got me around.

I was slightly ashamed at how dirty my van was and decided the end was coming. I began to curse at it when the seatbelt continuously got caught as I closed the door.

My Previa didn’t even have a decent radio, so I listened to my iPod while driving with ear buds. I knew that wasn’t a good idea and I might even get a ticket.

I dreamt of listening to my music through speakers someday.

The beginning:

It was a summer evening and my parents came over for dinner. I was so excited to show them my new car. It was the first new car I had ever owned in my life.

I was able to buy it with cash, because that year my art career provided a good income.

I went to meet my parents outside. My mother gushed over my new car. She was enthusiastic while my father was quiet. He stayed outside with me and she went inside to see her grandchildren.

I recounted to my dad how the car salesman would not give me the price I wanted, so I went home. Two days later, the manager of the dealership agreed to my price and the car was delivered to my doorstep with the papers to sign.

Suddenly, my father started sobbing uncontrollably. I hadn’t expected this. I said, “Dad, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” I was shocked.

He caught his breath and said hoarsely, “I am crying because I am so very proud of my daughter.”

Then I began crying!

When I wrote this, I cried again remembering how wonderful it was that my father loved me so much.

A picture from a family vacation. My brother, Norm is on the right.

A few months later:

It had been ten years since I had last seen my friend, Cheryl. She lived far away and was in town for a brief visit. We had been so close in college, and now this was our first visit after ten years. We had finally reconciled, and didn’t discuss our rift.

A long time ago, we were single woman and now we were mothers. Cheryl’s two young children played in the backyard. I held my infant daughter in my lap and my 3-year-old son sat next to me.

It was a lovely afternoon. We sipped iced tea and reminisced in-between tending to our children. It had been a little over a year since Jason had died. I was very sad and overweight. Rather than avoid bringing up grief, Cheryl asked me if I could show her pictures of Jason. She said, “Judy, he was so beautiful,” I cried and was very touched.

When it was time to go, I followed her outside to say goodbye. I had just gotten my new Previa and when she saw it in my driveway she said, “Oh my god, Judy, we wanted a Previa, but couldn’t afford it. You know, it’s the perfect family car, the absolute best! You are so lucky!”

I beamed at Cheryl. She always knew how to make me feel great. I hugged her tightly; I had missed her over those ten years. I also knew that it might be many years before I’d see her again.

I miss my good friend, Cheryl, who died from breast cancer in 2009.

Not sure if this was the illustration in my anecdote below or not. But it was one of dozens that were commissioned through my San Francisco agent, Barb Hauser.

2 years later:

My illustration was due the following morning in San Francisco. My agent wanted to give me as much time as possible and agreed to pick the artwork up at the airport. I simply had to drive half an hour to a local airport and send it as a parcel on a flight. It wasn’t cheap, but the client had agreed to pay for it. I felt exhilarated to be able to pull off such a challenging assignment so quickly.

My eyes were bleary and when I finished my painting at 2 a.m. Fortunately, there was a 7 a.m. flight and my agent would be able to pick it up and still get it to the client in the morning. It made sense for me to drive to the airport and be done with it.

But at 3 a.m. when I arrived at the airport, it was closed. I didn’t know this airport wasn’t open all night.

I curled up in the trunk area of my Previa and was thankful for the room. I slept a few hours until the airport opened, so I could put my artwork on that flight.

After that, I always kept a pillow and blanket in my car.

3 years later:

My daughter was in preschool and I was on my way to pick her up. As I exited the freeway, I saw a car careening toward me through a red light. I couldn’t stop in time. I braked as the other car clipped the front of my car. My head lightly bumped the side window, but I didn’t feel any pain.

I could see the other lady was bleeding and her windshield was shattered. I sprinted out of my car to the nearest house across the street. I banged on the door, and shouted that there was an accident nearby. How wonderful it would have been if I owned a cellphone then!

I ran back to my car and a moment later there were sirens. The paramedics immobilized me with a large brace upon my neck. They told me that I should not have moved at all after the accident. But all I could think of was how my daughter was waiting to be picked up and I wasn’t there.

At the ER, I begged a nurse to bring me a phone so I could call the preschool. Finally, I was able to call, and was relieved to know that another mother would bring my daughter home. The preschool receptionist was concerned about me, but I reassured her that I was fine and the hospital would release me soon.

At that moment, I had to put the phone down because a doctor came to examine me. I was taken out for x-rays and when I came back into the room, a nurse told me my husband had called. It turned out that the preschool had called him. He did not know if I was injured and had frantically searched to find out which hospital I was in. I picked up the phone and my husband’s voice was angry when he asked me why I hadn’t called him right away.

An hour or so later he arrived to pick me up. I tried to explain how I only had time to call 911. After that, I was so worried about our daughter being picked up that I hadn’t had time to make any other calls. My words did not ring true for him and his eyes were filled with disappointment.

The ER said I was fine and I was allowed to go home after four hours. I went to bed exhausted.

I could not let go of how disappointed my husband was with me. I told myself that his reaction was because he was so worried. But I had such an ominous feeling.

I also missed my parents who were out of town on a cruise that week. They were the ones I really wanted to call; my husband was right. As I was dozing off, I heard him shrug his shoulders and ask me to give him a back rub.

I felt such a stabbing pain in my heart, and I pushed it back down.

I just knew my husband would never forgive me for not calling him immediately. And at that moment, I knew I would never forgive him either. It was the beginning of my heart growing cold.

I wished instead that he had offered to give me a back rub.

I named my photo “No Longer Lovebirds.”The bird on the left looks angry and the bird on the right has her head somewhere else.

I named my photo “No Longer Lovebirds.”
The bird on the left looks angry and the bird on the right looks withdrawn.

Eighteen years later:

It was outing day for my 87-year-old father. He always looked forward to coming to my house so he could “putter” around. I arrived at his nursing home to pick him up and pushed his wheelchair to my car. Even with a scarf and blanket, he still shivered. He gripped his catheter and hose in a shopping bag, which he thought cleverly concealed it.

A nurse urged me to wear gloves when handling his bag because my father had rampant infections, but I never did. When we reached my minivan, my father slowly stood up from his wheelchair. I gently lifted his leg into my car while he gripped the door handle. He moaned loudly and then grunted, “I need you to move my other leg over now.”

It was always the same routine. I moved his other leg over. Then I reached around to put on his seatbelt. His voice was gruff when he said, “You don’t need to bother with a seatbelt.”

I ignored him. He was like my child now. I actually enjoyed reaching across his body to snap him in securely. I felt like I was a “good mommy,” even though he flinched when I touched him. I still remember his soft flannel shirt and skinny body under it.

After that, I felt confident as I put his wheelchair in the trunk. The car ride to my home was interminable because he cried out loudly with every bump I went over. During the rest of the drive he softly moaned.

I could not stand to hear his suffering and cried tears inside while I drove. I felt so helpless when he cried.

I decided I was just not a good enough driver.

“Getting Up Off the Ground”

It was Sunday morning and the sky was gray. I drove in the misty rain half an hour to attend my first voice lesson with a new teacher.

Her name was Kimberly. A year earlier, I had heard her sing at an event for a good friend of mine. When I heard Kimberly’s voice, I was envious and wished I could sing that way. When the moment was right, I introduced myself and told her what a beautiful voice she had. Later on, I found out that Kimberly taught voice lessons and I wrote her last name down on a piece of paper.

My first vocal coach, Peaches Chrenko moved away two months ago. Peaches had worked with me for over two years and I sure missed our joyful lessons.

Last week, I decided it was time for me to sing again. Just like with George, the day came when I was ready and I remembered in my drawer there was a piece of paper with Kimberly’s last name on it. I searched her up on the Internet and contacted her. I was amazed when she emailed me back and said that she remembered me.

On Sunday our lesson went beautifully. I brought my guitar and played one of my favorite songs for her called “Alabaster Seashell.” She understood exactly what I wanted.

I just knew Kimberly was special. There was a paper list taped on the wall above her keyboard. It was a list of vocal reminders. I asked her if they were written specifically for me and she smiled and said they weren’t.

Her technique was exactly what I needed. I drove home singing. Life was definitely improving.

It was all about giving myself permission to be happy.

My two older brothers, Howard and Norman

“My second new car”

I came home from my lesson and twenty minutes later I drove to meet my brother, Norm and sister-in-law, Jo at a Honda dealership.

My brother said he’d help me when I leased my first car. The entire process took five hours. It was exhausting and I kept looking at Norm and Jo with intense gratitude.

They had given up their Sunday just to be there for me.

At one point, the negotiations were getting frustrating. Hidden costs kept popping up, and Norm questioned each one. The fact that Norm was a CPA became easily apparent to the salesman because Norm understood every ploy.

Finally, we all had had enough. It turned out that the car I was negotiating for wasn’t even available in the color I wanted. They had another Civic in that color, but it had a more expensive accessory, a spoiler, which I didn’t care about.

It was time to go.

I picked up my purse. We were all tired. I told my brother there was no hurry. It had been 19 years since I’d had a new car and I could wait a little longer. But just as we began to step outside, the salesman came running after us. He said they would give us a better offer on the Civic with the spoiler.

Two hours later, I was driving home my new Honda Civic.

I felt so blessed that I had so much love from both my two brothers.

With Norm and Jo’s help, I returned the car I had borrowed from my middle brother, Howard. Howard’s generosity allowed me to take my time while shopping for a new car.

It was still drizzling as I drove home. I was overcome by the overpowering odor of my brand new car. In the darkness, it maneuvered so easily.

I pretended I was piloting a rocket ship through space. As the drizzle became a steady rain, I was pleased that I figured out how to turn on the windshield wipers.

I decided the rain held my father’s happy tears from above.

My childhood artwork that my father saved was especially meaningful.

I love the childhood artwork that my father saved.

My parents would have been so proud of my brothers for helping me. Sadly, my dad died this past May and my mother has severe dementia.

Humor Moments:

I received an email from my old boyfriend, Dr. Sam congratulating me on my new car. We reconnected when he found my blog and left a comment (#137 YOU’RE NOT THE ONE) Sam and I love puns very much. His words are in brown.

On Dec 19, 2012, Dr. Sam wrote:

Hi Judy!…Mazel Tov on the car…use it in good health!

Thanks, Sam – It’s new and that’s so cool for me. I’m really enjoying it. I’m actually writing a farewell story about my Previa at the moment. Hope you’re well.

A farewell story? How about a car-toon?

I love that pun! It would be a car-tune if I wrote a song! Thanks, Sam.

You are right…so make it an auto-biography!

Your puns are driving me crazy!

I thought that I had the last word, but I was wrong. I received an email from my good friend, Carol. Carol and Sam were together many years ago and I reconnected with Carol at the same time as Sam.

Her message was:

On Dec 20, 2012, Carol wrote:

Keeping up with these puns isn’t just tiring, it’s exhausting!

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© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2012. 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.

Tags:"sandwich generation", Aging Parents, Art and Illustration, Caregiving, composing, coping with divorce, creativity, Daily Life, divorce, divorce after long marriage, Friendship, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", Honda Civic, Humor, humor daily life, inspiration, lease a car, loss, lyric line, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, new car, separation, those memories, Toyota Previa, voice lessons, writing
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I WAS SO SAD

December 13, 2012

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

I share now something musical that represents my willingness to work on older love songs again. When I listen to the happy melody of a song I wrote when I was 19, my heart dances. I share below a new instrumental and updated arrangement for one of my favorite songs “You Are My Wings.” I plan to sing a new vocal for it soon. A big thank you to Steve de Mena for his excellent mix of George’s amazing arrangement.

Clicking the blue link below plays my song:

YOU ARE MY WINGS INSTRUMENTAL

“Songwriting saved me”

At this time in my life, there are few words to describe the euphoria in my soul when I am listening to my musical creations.

I’ve mentioned how I sometimes hear a voice in my mind that channels lyrics and stories for me. It grows louder and louder until I am compelled to listen. If it’s words, I must write them down. If it’s a melody, I’ll play my guitar or sing.

Creating a song is almost like a birth. It swells inside of me, until it breaks free. I see each and every one of my songs as a unique entity and like a child, each one has it’s own personality. Just as a baby grows, so do my songs. Sometimes I’ll arrange them in different ways, and then they are like multiple births!

All of my songs were seeds. It is at this beautiful time in my life that I am growing and developing them.

Recently, I wrote about how my grief was like a forest wildfire. Out of the blackened devastation, a new forest began to grow again. Then I mentioned my awareness that there were certain wildflowers that only grow as a result of a fire; that was my high school biology coming back to me.

When I was younger, I smiled continuously.

There was a reason that I wrote that. Originally, I thought that I was one of those flowers, but then I had an epiphany. My songs are those wildflowers!

It turned out that the grief that once wrecked my life, gave me a gift to access my heart in a very special way.

Grief allowed songs to blossom that might never have been born otherwise.

And believe it or not, now I’ve decided that this concept applies to my separation and divorce. I am grieving my marriage and former life. If a fire was my metaphor for grief, it made sense that I pictured fiery imagery to describe my current feelings. Recently, I’ve written about journeying through a burnt landscape and dealing with a fire-breathing dragon.

Therefore, the “fire of grief” is the fuel that allows me to compose.

My divine song creations inspire and heal me with their beauty. I eagerly share them because I love to help and inspire others.

Well, the final word is that my Previa is not worth fixing. It has been many years since I’ve had a new car. I know this sounds silly, but I am mourning the death of my minivan. It was the first and only new car I ever purchased in my life. I bought it the same year my daughter was born, and they’re both 19 years old. My Previa carries many memories for me and I plan to write more about it.

A painting of grapes I did at age 10.

A painting of grapes I did in my forties.

Unfortunately, last week I bit off most of my fingernails. It was not a good sign for me. I had been so proud of growing them when I first began healing. Before that, I was a nail-biter all of my life.

For such a long time, I was so sad. I carried the world upon my shoulders and did not ask for help. But I have changed a lot. I am leaning on friends and family. At this time in my life, I am fortunate to have my two older brothers looking out for me. My oldest brother is negotiating the best lease deal possible for me on a Honda Civic. My middle brother has lent me a car until I make a decision. My parents would be so proud of them!

I’ve continued attending hypnotherapy sessions. When I see my hypnotherapist Connie, I am always passionate and enthusiastic as I share with her my latest musical creations. Yet when I speak about other aspects of my life, sometimes I find myself weeping.

I have been frustrated how I began my journey feeling joyful and light, only to gain my weight back. The heaviness that eclipsed my joy actually began well over a year ago. It led up to gathering the courage to end my marriage. Connie was supportive, but could only do so much.

Hypnosis only works when a person wants to change. I have not felt ready to diet or exercise more, even though it would certainly help me if I did.

On Saturday morning, I began our recent session by telling Connie how my eyesight was really bothering me. Connie was always compassionate as she listened.

All of my other stressors were worse because my eyes always hurt and felt tired since my cataract surgeries. It was as if I were wearing uncomfortable contact lenses that I couldn’t remove. I had considered going back to see my ophthalmologist, but didn’t really see any solution. At my final appointment, I was told to just continue putting in artificial tears, and so far that hadn’t made any difference.

I also felt frustrated that my close-up vision was so poor. Glasses simply did not allow for the intricate details that my younger eyes were once able to see.

I continued with more self-pity. I am so human!

It was time for me to do “discovery work” while under hypnosis, which would allow me gather information from my subconscious. I was definitely ready to discover anything that would help me feel better.

I relaxed and settled into a soft reclining chair before our hypnosis began. The light from outside filtered through a window and illuminated the room. I loved examining her beautiful garden when I’d walk by, and now the flowers outside sparkled in the sunlight. Connie’s warmth usually brought me to tears; I missed my mother so much and it felt so nice to be cared about. She covered me with a soft blanket, and gently adjusted it. It was such a safe place for me to be. My eyes closed as I drifted off into a hypnotic trance.

Connie asked me to find a place that felt safe and comforting. As I had many times before, I imagined I was in a forest.

I loved hiking in forests when I was younger.

It easily popped into my mind, because only recently I had written about how my life was like a beautiful forest. But then it had burned to the ground many years ago.

It turned out that fire was my metaphor for grief.

My forest grew back and I had deep appreciation for the new growth. I arose out of the ashes and pictured myself as a flower that only bloomed because of a raging fire. It gave me strength and purpose.

Then I heard Connie’s voice and she gently asked me to describe my surroundings. I tried to picture it, but could not. Even though I concentrated, I still drew a blank. Where was I?

It was confusing to me that I wasn’t able to describe where I was. After a moment, I looked around and said to her, “Okay, I am not in a forest anymore!”

Suddenly, it was amazing how the imagery became vivid. I began to describe my vision.

I told her I was in a desert.

This painting cropped from a salad package illustration of mine, reminded me of my love for mountains and shadows.

As a child, I would stare outside the window for hours as we drove on a family vacation to desert destinations. I loved looking at the colors of the desert. The warm creases of the sculpted mountains with contrasting blue shadows always intrigued me; I held the images in my mind so I could paint them later on.

I liked the idea that I was in new surroundings. I had started with a forest and ended up somewhere else. That was a parallel to my life. A forest is packed with growth and a desert is sparse; hence I had definitely downsized.

It occurred to me that there was no longer evidence of a fire, either.

Even though a desert landscape was often barren, I told Connie how I always found deserts to be beautiful. Deserts held amazing vistas in every direction I looked. And the colors of the sky were always breathtaking.

As I described my vision, I noticed that I was appreciating the distance. I was looking toward the mountains, instead of the small footpath in front of me. I said, “I am not looking closely at anything. I feel more alive looking toward the horizon; it is so expansive and beautiful.”

I was able to make a meaningful connection, because there was a way that I could apply this to my life.

I said carefully, “Perhaps it is time for me to stop focusing so closely at everything. If I did that in this desert, I would be looking at the spiny plants and sand, instead of appreciating the entire landscape.”

I continued. “When I was in the forest, I marveled at the details. I did not look too far ahead. As a young child, I was lost once in a forest. I kept looking down and didn’t keep track of where I was going. Now that I’m older, I feel like I could appreciate a sweeping landscape because that vision allows me to contemplate a bigger picture. Tiny details take me away from that.”

My thoughts were still thinking about ways to stop focusing on everything so closely, when it was time for me to awaken from hypnosis. Connie counted slowly to ten and instructed me to awaken.

A crayon rendition I made as a young child of a beautiful desert.I reminded how I loved reptiles.

A crayon rendition I made as a young child of a beautiful desert.
It reminds me how I loved reptiles.

Our session yielded tremendous clarity for me. Not looking too closely, was completely relevant to my current situation following cataract surgery. I decided my disappointment with my eyesight could be reversed if I appreciated the excellent acuity I now had for distance instead.

Also, the problems related to my separation and divorce were fairly temporary. If I was able to look farther ahead, rather than focusing on all the smaller issues, I was certain I’d feel better.

It was a few days after that hypnotherapy session, when I realized how much that session really helped me. I share some anecdotes about my daily life.

On Monday, I had a consultation with a cardiologist to go over the results from my holter monitor. While waiting to be seen, I stared at an illustration of a heart that was on the wall. I had created several illustrations of hearts early in my art career. The poster had the word “Heart” in large letters. I love word plays and began to notice all the applicable words in my life that fit into the word heart. I found: art, hear, ear, and he. The word “he” didn’t really fit in, so with irony, I tossed it from my list.

My cardiologist wore a turban and was a handsome young man. He made comfortable eye contact with me, and carefully listened as I described my palpitations to him. When I finished, he calmly told me he was not concerned about my extra heartbeats and medication usually made this type of condition worse.

He asked me about my level of exercise. I said I planned to go back to playing tennis soon. The fact that I played tennis really impressed him and as a result, he said a stress test was unnecessary.

But then as I was leaving, he told me he wanted to order an ultrasound echocardiogram in order to completely reassure me. I would get an appointment for that soon.

The next day, I returned to the tennis court where I used to play a weekly doubles game before my move and cataract surgeries. It had been at least two months since I’d seen my usual gang of women. Since I’d moved, it was no longer close by.

I didn’t mind the drive though, because it was an opportunity for me to sing aloud in my car for half an hour. I missed singing so much and especially my voice teacher, Peaches Chrenko. A month ago, Peaches had moved out-of-state. I knew Peaches would be proud to know I was practicing, since it was something I rarely did. As I drove, I didn’t care one bit if anyone saw what I was doing.

I parked near the tennis court, and was still singing as I grabbed my tennis bag. As I walked toward the court, I grinned with the memory of how the cardiologist laughed when I told him I smashed tennis balls. Everyone on the court was afraid of me!

My friend, Vera, who owned the tennis court, chatted with me during our warm up. She asked me about my eye surgery, and I mentioned how my eyes always felt dry and tired.

But it was interesting how they hurt less since my hypnotherapy session. That morning, I wore a new contact lens in one eye. Its purpose was to eliminate my mono vision and help me see the tennis ball better. I wasn’t sure if I was wearing it. I assumed it would hurt, because the day I was fitted with it, my eye really bothered me even more.

It turned out that many of my assumptions were wrong. I had also anticipated that I wouldn’t play well. I told myself that I was so out of shape, the other woman would wish they had a better player in the game.

I hit many good shots during that game, and ended up winning two sets out of three.

As I drove home, I was singing again. But this time it was with more joy.

Vera’s words kept replaying. She said to me, “Judy, my mother had cataract surgery and went back so many times complaining about how her eyes bothered her. And you know what? Her pain finally went away. It took about eight months and it’s only been two months for you. Don’t worry, it will get better!”

It never occurred to me to allow myself to consider that my eyes would heal. I assumed I would suffer for the rest of my life. That was just like grief, too!

How meaningful it was for me to understand the benefits of looking farther ahead. It wasn’t about not living in the present versus the future. It was about losing perspective and letting details upset my balance.

I came home just in time. My mother was visiting for lunch with her caregiver/companion Miriam.

Miriam and I caught up on things. Miriam also told me how much she loved my coop/apartment. She was suffering in her own marriage and wistfully looked at my bedroom. My bed had a new brightly colored comforter. I gave myself permission to buy it.

I had not purchased a new comforter in a long time. My old bedspread before it was at least fifteen years old.

“I love those colors,” Miriam said. She continued and added, “Judy, I dream about having a bedroom like this, it’s just perfect.”

I knew what she meant. It was one of the best parts of my new life.

After our lunch, I played my new song aloud for my mother and Miriam. The new arrangement was gorgeous and I put my heart into singing it. It was good practice because soon I planned to record a vocal for it.

My mother was pleasant and sweetly glowed with a radiant smile the entire time I was with her. I let myself bathe in her smile. I did not focus upon her dementia and the sad fact that she could not converse with me anymore.

For just a moment, I imagined I was looking into the distance.

I took a deep breath and savored her presence because I knew that one day I’d miss her smile very much.

A picture of the way I want to remember my mother

This picture is the way I want to remember my mother.

After Miriam and my mother left, I planned to rest. I went to check my email first.

There were so many wonderful surprises there.

It turned out that Tersia decided to dedicate a post with the lyrics to my song “Set You Free.” Many people commented about it, too. Tears streamed down my cheeks. Someone even complimented me on my singing voice.

My life was so meaningful right now. But I felt so much sorrow for Tersia. There were no words.

Below is Tersia’s post with my song:

Clicking the blue title below, is a link to Tersia’s blog:

SET YOU FREE

By tersiaburger

Below, I am sharing some messages from an Internet grief forum:

On Dec 10, 2012, Judy wrote:

Dear Sammi, Thank you so much for commenting about my story. So often I feel like I am irritating. I don’t want to upset people who are suffering with their loss and can’t handle hearing about hope.

I remember when I was suffering with my child’s death, I was always angry. I didn’t want someone telling me that time would heal. I just didn’t believe it and certainly felt like my pain was too horrible to overcome. Also, I felt like I loved my child more than anyone could.

That’s why I continue to share. I share how sad I was, because it reminds me of my progress. The torment of grief is horrific, but you will emerge. It is just a different life.

Love, Judy

From: Sammi

Date: December 10, 2012

Subject: [grief support]

Judy I do not find you irritating. I view you as someone who knows what I am going through. I appreciate your thoughts and experiences. I am having a very hard time right now. I just went through Thanksgiving, and now the Christmas holidays then New Years. There are days that all I do is cry in spurts all day.

I was touched when I looked at your beautiful baby boy’s picture. He jumped off the computer with the brilliance if his smile. My son was much older, but still too young. He also was always smiling. I miss that with every beat of my heart.

Thank you Judy for sharing your journey. I appreciate it.

From: Sheryl

Date: December 10, 2012

Subject: [grief support]

Judy, I am always moved and learn from your posts. I just don’t write on here often so please don’t feel like you are irritating us. There are probably lots of people like me who are soaking it in quietly.

I like reading what you write to help me when I talk to others who have experienced a loss. Keep writing and let us know when your book is published!

Tags:"sandwich generation", Aging Parents, Caregiving, composing, creativity, Daily Life, death, death of a child, dementia, Friendship, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, Hypnotherapy, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, Ordinary Life, original songs, separation, singing, songwriting, writing
Posted in Healing and Hope | 3 Comments »

WHEN NOISE TURNED TO MUSIC

November 14, 2012

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

When I was born, I was blessed with many gifts.

The blue link below plays a home recording:

NOISE TURNED TO MUSIC – Acoustic recording

When I was born, I was blessed with many gifts. I believe my greatest gifts were something that most people are born with and take for granted. I had five senses. I was aware how many people functioned without all five senses and felt fortunate to have my taste, sight, touch, smell and hearing.

As a child, I deeply appreciated my senses and was enchanted by the miracle of life. But as I grew older, I simply used my senses to navigate through the world in a practical way.

When I was younger, I savored life; tasting things I loved brought intense pleasure. As an adult, I didn’t really appreciate food because it became a replacement for affection. Eating helped to ease my stress and fill the empty spaces.

When I was younger, I used my eyesight to look closely at colors and details of nature; I marveled at the exquisite beauty of the world. Then I grew older and became too busy to notice much. My eyesight existed so I could see what was in front of me. I preferred not to see beauty because I felt sad that I never went to new places; it would depress me thinking of all the places I would never see.

When I was younger, I would look at clouds and distant landscapes and imagine what the sensation would be if I could actually touch them. As an adult, I didn’t want to remember touching or feeling. I did not have time to feel, because I was sad knowing how little I was touched. It was better not to feel pain, so I didn’t allow myself to feel anything.

When I was younger, I would inhale deeply and memories could be created and invoked with an aroma. When I grew older, I could not smell things well and I decided that was better. It eliminated bad odors and I preferred not to remember poignant past memories. Those memories made me sad because they reminded me of when I was happier.

When I was younger, I loved listening carefully to all the sounds around me. I delighted in the sounds of nature and heard music throughout my day. As an adult, sound was simply another word for noise. I hated much of the sound in my world and longed for peace and quiet. I did love the sound of laughter and especially loved my childrens’ voices. But unfortunately, a great deal of the time they were upset and it was not peaceful in our home.

It never occurred to me that my senses were something that would bless me again later in my life.

But it happened one day, when a single one of my senses elevated my life. It began with sound.

WHEN NOISE TURNED TO MUSIC . . .

Noise was dull; music was magical

Noise added stress; music was peaceful

Noise was irritating; music was uplifting

Noise made me empty; music filled me up

Noise was numbing; music was captivating

Noise caused confusion; music gave me clarity

Noise caused a headache; music soothed my heartache-

When noise became music, my life completely transformed.

Gradually, each one of my other five senses were elevated.

But in order to elevate my other senses, I had to come to terms with avoiding pain and sad memories. I was required to make changes to my life.

And that’s exactly what I did.

I am aware of how stress has ravaged my body. Perhaps when I was younger, my body had more ability to bounce back. But now, stress has left me with an irregular heartbeat. Today, I was given a 24-hour holter monitor to assess my heart. Within a week, I should know the result.

For sure, I don’t like the feeling where my heart feels offbeat. Instead, I am really trying to stay upbeat.

I cope best by singing and listening to music. Humor is another great tool that helps me to continue smiling, despite challenges.

I enjoy sharing photos from my younger and thinner days.

I just love those checkered pants!

Oh my god, another checkered outfit. I hated my hair fixed up like that, so I’m amazed that I’m smiling!

This is a reject photo. I think my hair needed to be re-combed. I hated being dressed up and no doubt my mother was mad that I messed up my hair within a few moments. It was probably because I was chasing a lizard.

RECENT CORRESPONDENCE:

(My friends’ words are in blue)

Found a dead rat in a drawer, yesterday. Ugh!

A dead rat’s better than a live one, eeeek!

Guess who picked that squishy, stinky thing up? Me!

So, I was telling this story to my brother, Norm, when we went to lunch last week. My daughter had come along. She said, “Shut up, mom – it’s so gross how you always do that and ruin my meal.”

I told my story anyway!

I said, “I thought the putrid smell was from the broccoli I cooked the night before. But when I opened the drawer, I jumped into the air and screamed to see the rat’s corpse. Then I had to dispose of it.

My daughter really cringed when Norm shared a worse story. He said, “It can’t be as bad as the time I caught a mouse escaping from the mousetrap by chewing off it’s own leg. As it was trying to limp off, I smashed it!”

It’s rare, but I lost my appetite after that. My daughter is still upset at me.

Love, J

I felt safe in this picture with my parents on either side of me.

My beautiful musical arrangements are the result of working with George. George is an amazing musical talent. We both think that in our former lives we were connected as musicians. I call him “bro” and he calls me “sis.”

At our last session, I told him that I wrote a poem about how noise became music in my life. George once told me that music was one of the greatest gifts that god gave to humans next to fire.

When I came home, I sent George an email message thanking him for our session and his gorgeous arrangement. Then I shared my poem with him.

He wrote back:

When noise turned to music; that’s a good song. Write it, sis.

Tags:"sandwich generation", Aging Parents, arranging music, Caregiving, changing your life, composing, composing music, creativity, Daily Life, escape through music, five senses, Friendship, heightened senses, Humor, humor children, humor daily life, improvement, improving life, inspiration, irregular heartbeat, life changing, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, music poetry, music therapy, musical arranging, musical composition, musical inspiration, noise, Noise irritation, noise vs. music, Ordinary Life, original music, original songs, singing, song arranging, songwriting, stress and effects, transforming your life, writing
Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

I OFTEN DREAMED OF WHAT COULD BE

November 9, 2012

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

In this picture I am thinking, “Wow, my life is just beginning!”

“Crystal oceans sparkling on the sand”

I grew up on a tiny ship. Even though my father wore a captain’s hat, my mother steered the ship’s course. The ship only traveled in safe and familiar waters.

As a child, I scanned the vast horizon imagining an exciting world beyond. Although I dreamed of being an explorer, I was satisfied to examine minute details of my secure waters. Every creature and element of nature was exquisite for me. Life was beautiful and filled me with amazement.

I never questioned whether I would ever explore or leave. But one day, another ship came to take me away. The excitement of it had me dancing with joy. I dreamed I’d discover new places with my mate; together we would sail off to discover paradise.

It was not easy to leave my parents’ ship. Sometimes I found myself crying, but hid those tears from my mate.

On the very first day, he surprised me and gave me the captain’s hat and told me I would be steering. I quickly caught on and although it was exhausting, I imagined I could see paradise past the horizon. I began to miss the times when my parents ran things; but I knew it was time for me to grow up.

I focused on helping to provide fuel so that we could someday reach our paradise. But I noticed that I was no longer enthusiastic about exploring the world and taking pleasure in the beauty of nature anymore. It felt selfish to dream. I decided it was time for me to grow up even more, so I became a mother.

My world was no longer “out there,” and instead our children became my world. I celebrated the miracle of life through my childrens’ eyes. As a mother, I decided I had finally grown up. I devoted myself to doing whatever I could to make my childrens’ lives easier. It completely encompassed my existence and sometimes I was heartbroken by the challenges I faced. But with love and determination I watched miracles occur.

When one of our children died, my tears filled the ocean and I learned how precarious life was. Even though I was a captain, there were many times when I couldn’t steer the ship. But I never gave up hope despite many horrible storms where I had no control. It touched me deeply that my parents’ ship anchored nearby and they often came aboard to help. My mate was not happy about it and that saddened me. He did not understand my life anymore, but I accepted it. Life was hard enough. I had definitely stopped dreaming about finding paradise with him.

Although I never minded a tiny ship, it wasn’t long before my mate and I traded in our ship for a larger one. We did it several times and soon we even had two boats. Each time, I was proud of our wealth and it seemed absolutely wonderful for our growing family. I felt rich, because now I lived on a cruise ship! It was so much larger than the tiny boat I had grown up on.

Our ship was something my mate was very proud of. Unfortunately, it required a lot of fuel. I was sad that my mate didn’t enjoy our home on the cruise ship and I felt responsible when it fell into disrepair. I knew it was my fault because I hadn’t provided enough fuel. In the past, I was easily able to contribute for fuel and repairs. But for many years, I completely devoted myself to our children and there were few jobs for me now. I felt like I was a failure, and our ship continued to deteriorate to where it could barely circle even familiar waters. Soon, it was simply anchored in one spot.

As the years went by, sometimes I wondered where my life had gone. Because our children were usually at fault for breaking things, I was stressed trying to prevent things that made my mate so unhappy. He loved his children, but was tired from working so much. He was miserable, but didn’t want to acknowledge it.

One advantage of our large ship was that it held many hiding places for all of the family members. Everyone was able to escape to avoid being together. I worked tirelessly to try to fix all the problems in order to bring our family back together. I had thought I was a good mother, but our children were very dependent because I had done so many things for them.

I remembered when I had my parents to help me. I especially missed my mother’s comforting words. When we were close, it was easier for me to accept my situation. Now most of my energy went into helping to take care of both my parents. I knew they felt sorry for me and wished their little girl had never become a captain.

As a child, I loved life, but now I felt tired of life. For such a long time my only joy was seeing the world through my childrens’ eyes. Now, I did not know how to be happy. I was only happy if my family was happy and that was an impossible task.

It dawned on me that I was married to that cruise ship. I began to hate it and retreated to the empty recesses to hide. I realized that I was not really rich at all; I was a servant to everyone else on the ship.

I began to wish I wasn’t on the same boat with my mate anymore. I was used to never hearing anything complimentary and it was hard for me to imagine that I had ever danced joyfully with him. His unhappiness weighed upon me so heavily that sometimes when he came near, I even felt the desire to jump into the water. Often, he upset me so much that I felt ill. I tortured myself with guilt whenever I tried to think of a way to leave; I saw no escape.

Just when I had little hope left, I heard a voice. It told me to write about my feelings and to start singing again. As a child, writing and singing always made me feel better. But when I began to write and sing my true feelings, it was scary because I had no idea I was so sad.

It was when I sang my own words, that I discovered I could dream of paradise again. I started to scan the horizon and began to imagine living with joy for my remaining years. I imagined how peaceful it would be to not constantly hear how our ship was dirty and how our children were lazy and at fault for many broken things. I gathered my courage so I could leave the cruise ship and my mate. It was because of my writing and singing that I found my courage.

I knew he would miss me, even though I had been absent from him for such a long time. Because he had never been a captain, he would be overwhelmed. But I did not provide the fuel he wanted for our big ship, and hated to be a burden. Sometimes I wondered if he hated the larger ship, too. It took all of his energy and he had little joy.

The most difficult part was to tell my mate that I was leaving; he never believed I would. I suffered terribly until I released my secret. I hoped our children would eventually understand and I planned to remain close to them.

Just as I anticipated, my mate was devastated. Although he was stoic and hid his anger, his world was turned upside down. Our large ship would be sold and he was especially furious that he was required to give me extra fuel. He had always worked so hard to provide it and felt betrayed. In my mind, I hoped it would only be temporary until I found my own fuel.

I had never sailed alone, but was confident of my abilities as a captain because I had already steered such a large ship. When my father died, he gave me his tiny boat to restore and even gave me fuel for it. I was elated to discover that it was still seaworthy. It would be a relief not to steer a big ship anymore – I could easily maneuver and handle the boat from my childhood. My father loved me so much and he must have known that the tiny boat would become my lifeboat.

I became ready to set sail without a mate for the first time in my life. Two of my children joined me and my oldest child stayed behind to comfort my mate.

As I sailed into new waters, I realized I truly was a captain now. I was pleased that my children were learning new things on their own from me. Even though they weren’t happy about it at first, I wanted them to captain their own ships someday. I also began to learn how I didn’t need to be a slave to my childrens’ happiness.

For the first time in my life, I sailed into uncharted waters and didn’t worry about whether I’d have enough fuel. My simple boat could sail with the wind. I felt confident that my father would have been proud of me for sailing his boat. Although my mother was very sick and not aware of my life, I knew she was happy to see my joy. When she beamed at me, I remembered it was she who taught me about finding joy through a child’s eyes.

There was a time when I felt that most of my life was over. I had nothing to look forward to.

As the spray misted my face, I felt alive. Once again, I was seeing the world with youthful eyes.

The ocean was a deep blue and crystalline waves danced in the sunlight. Exquisite sandy beaches were visible ahead.

Life wasn’t over for me, it was just beginning . . .

Tags:Aging Parents, writing, mother's illness, loss, composing, mother daughter relationship, inspiration, separation, divorce, end of a marriage, facing divorce after a long marriage, gray divorce, coping with divorce, divorce and separation, metaphor about ships, starting a new life
Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment »

CRYSTAL OCEANS – PART 2

November 9, 2012

BLOG TABLE OF CONTENTS

CRYSTAL OCEANS

Into your heart, I hoped I could reach

From the day I saw you, walking down that beach

Into your arms, I wanted to be

comforted, caressed, held securely

I wanted you, and I often dreamed of what could be

‘cause in your eyes I thought that I could see

crystal oceans sparkling on the sand

I’m longing for the warmth of your hand

Into your heart, I prayed for a chance

you’d get to know me; imagining romance

Into your mind, where memories reside

we’d write our story, dancing in the tide

I wanted you, and I often dreamed of what could be

‘cause in your eyes I thought that I could see

crystal oceans sparkling on the sand

I’m longing for the warmth of your hand

Into your heart, I searched for a way

Your smile melted me from that first day

I wanted you, and I often dreamed of what could be

‘cause in your eyes I thought that I could see

crystal oceans sparkling on the sand

I’m longing for the warmth of your hand

I wanted you, and I didn’t think you’d notice me

But then you smiled my way and you

took my hand, so it became the start

The moment you let me in your heart

I enjoy creating images for my blog and am sharing some ideas for my song “Crystal Oceans.”

I exited my stressful world and entered my magical world this past week. I didn’t even hesitate, even though it was impractical for me to indulge myself by spending money on arranging while in my current situation.

But music blesses my life and gives me a sense of wonderment. When I listen to my song, I am transported. It is probably very funny to see a middle-aged woman wearing an iPod, swinging her fists like a conductor and dancing as she walks. That’s me. My big smile often causes people to stop and I hear them say, “What are you listening to?”

Within only a few moments, I am reaching out to share my touching story of how my music keeps me dancing and coping.

It certainly is interesting how I’ve recently begun to work on music that is more melodic and uplifting. The melancholy music from the last six months has given way to waltzes and dances.

This recent recording of an instrumental for my song “Crystal Oceans” is one of my all-time favorites. It will be included in my second book and I look forward to singing a new vocal for it soon.

Clicking the blue links below plays my song:

Message from a good friend:

Judy,

That is absolutely beautiful. I closed my eyes and was transported to another place. I could see myself walking along the cliffs while the water splashed below me. I was in a long flowing dress with the wind blowing my hair and dress out. I felt as though I was so happy and walking to meet my love . . . like in another time period . . . in another country . . . (That may sound silly, but it’s where it took me.) You are so blessed to have such talent!

Amazing what music can do! I must get a copy!!! I could see this song easily being used in a movie! Do you have words, vocals to it?

My reply:

Thank you so much! I love your message and feel those same emotions, too. It definitely transports me and elevates my life listening to this gorgeous arrangement. I could definitely picture a movie soundtrack for many of my songs. Who know?

My music and writing go hand in hand. As I delve back into this song that I wrote at 17 and expanded two years ago, I plan to share an entire story about it for Book 2. Book 2 is bubbling up for me and has been an on-going process as I finalize Book 1. I’m so passionate and excited about my second special collection of songs and stories that I’ve been slowly creating this past year.

Below is a link to my original story from two years ago when I first expanded the song. I am far better with vocals now and look forward to getting a recording set-up here at my new place. Then I’ll be re-doing a lot of vocals for my older songs.

Love you so much, Judy

This blue link is to my original story two years ago for this song:

#115 CRYSTAL OCEANS

Below are blue links that are clips from my very last lesson with Peaches Chrenko, regarding my song “Crystal Oceans:”

PEACHES LESSON #1 – 10/27/12 blog excerpt Crystal Oceans

PEACHES LESSON #2 – 10/27/12 blog excerpt Crystal Oceans

This morning I posed on the same staircase where my brothers held me over fifty years ago. Not much in the building has changed. I notice the rod-iron was more ornate in the earlier picture.

In this picture I am saying, “Please, get me out of this dress!”

“The greatest trip of my entire life”

When I was younger, I dreamed a lot about life’s possibilities. Yet for decades I stopped dreaming, because life held many challenges for me and dreaming was a luxury I had little time for.

In February of 2010, I started my journey and quickly became delirious with joy when I discovered how writing unburdened my soul. From the moment I began writing my blog, I felt myself almost physically shooting out of my body; I originally described it as a transformation, but now I prefer to call it healing.

I believe that my ability to express myself honestly is something that makes me unique. I know it is rare.

After I began writing two and a half years ago, I became much more in touch with my feelings. Because I loved sharing my innermost thoughts, initially I felt joyful. But then I had to face the sadness that I truly did not have companionship other than my guitar and my computer.

After my father died this summer, I finally found the courage to end my marriage. It was agonizing for me to bravely make that change, because I knew my decision would affect my entire family.

I do not believe in regrets. None of my life was wasted because I found my courage. Some people never find their courage. Mine, came in tiny increments and infused my soul with the powerful knowledge that I had conquered fear.

So much happened to me in only two and a half years. As my journey continues, I scan the horizon with enthusiasm. I hear whispers from my inner voice telling me that this journey of mine is the greatest trip of my entire life. I look forward to many things. But if I live the rest of my life alone and in a simple fashion, I am peaceful.

Images flash before my eyes; I see myself singing and telling my stories to large audiences. I am beaming, and passionately sharing my soul with complete honesty.

Every day is a gold coin and I plan to spend each one wisely.

In this picture, I’m playing guitar while on vacation. I’m 19 years old and probably writing a song while my mother looks on in the background.

THE THREE SUMMERS

Three summers ago . . .

was the summer when I expanded a song I composed as a teenager named “Crystal Oceans.” For many years, family vacations were something I dreaded. In the space of a car and hotel room, I was usually overwhelmed by all the anger and fighting that went on. My children and husband were dependent on me for all the planning. I packed everything for my children and brought many food items to save money instead of eating out. For decades, I often brought my parents along on our vacations so they could give me respite. But now, I was depressed because I didn’t have my parents’ support anymore; I was supporting them.

I didn’t want to think about the fact that I needed a real vacation!

My complete purpose as a mother and wife was to make my children and my husband happy. It was an impossible task and left me depleted and frustrated. Rather than allow those feelings, I stuffed them down and pretended I was strong and capable. If things weren’t going well, I simply tried harder.

Three summers ago in 2010, my journey began a few months before summer and I had rediscovered the joy of playing my guitar again. I missed my parents, but felt like my healing had given me a lot more strength than before. So that summer, I planned a simple weekend vacation at an inexpensive motel that was several miles from the beach.

While my teenagers watched television and slept late in the morning, I fingerpicked my guitar in the bathroom. I was concentrating on expanding my song “Crystal Oceans.” It turned out that my music gave me calmness and I had many wonderful moments with my children on that vacation after all.

What was interesting was that I was completely disconnected from the romantic lyrics I wrote when I was younger. Developing my song was purely a mechanical exercise, of finding the best rhymes and melody for the new verses I wanted to add.

My heart was stone cold because I had given up on ever being held or caressed again in my life.

Two summers ago . . .

I didn’t want to plan a vacation because my parents were very sick. I did not have the reserves to deal with further stress or the expense, plus my feelings toward my husband bordered on hatred. I relented because my children counted on me to plan something; I felt guilty because I wasn’t spending as much time with them. The easiest vacation I could think of was to go to the same area as the year before.

It turned out that this vacation would be the last one we would ever take as a family.

Just like the year before, we had two adjacent hotel rooms. This time, I slept in one room with my daughter instead of my husband. It was a relief for me.

I also wrote a song while on vacation with my family. My song had lyrics so gut wrenching, that I suffered with guilt when I imagined sharing them. I was containing a horrible secret from my family and it made me ill inside.

Because even though my lyrics were truthful, I could not move forward to change my life.

I wasn’t ready. I was too afraid of the unknown.

This past summer . . .

was when my father died. I did nothing at all related to summer, but it would be a summer I’d never forget.

I was finally ready.

Tags:Music, Aging Parents, "sandwich generation", creativity, Caregiving, singing, songwriting, mother's illness, acoustic guitar, mother, loss, voice lessons, original songs, composing, lovesong, guitar, lyrics, lyric development, lyric writing, inspiration, father's illness, separation, divorce, divorce after long marriage, impending divorce, facing divorce after a long marriage, divorce after a long marriage, gray divorce, coping with divorce, divorce and separation, family vacations from hell, honesty
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MY JOURNEY'S INSIGHT

Posts Tagged ‘Aging Parents’

YOU WERE THERE – PART 3

MY DREAM STILL GLOWS

I AM THE SANDWICH – PART 2

MEMORIES I TREASURE

WHEN NOISE TURNED TO MUSIC

I OFTEN DREAMED OF WHAT COULD BE

CRYSTAL OCEANS – PART 2

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