Clicking the blue links below will play my songs:
Copyright 2011 by Judy Unger
You always return on an April breeze,
with fragrance of jasmine and crimson oak trees
The seasons, they just move go on
and my mind knows that you’re gone
with autumn’s cold, you never grow old
with winter’s chill, I miss you still
as the season changes
my heart rearranges
When you left I always knew
forever, I’d long for you
but I’ve held on to your memory
and my sadness will always be
you come back to me
You always return with a starry night sky,
a soft golden sunrise, a bright butterfly
I’m reminded you are free,
for all eternity
When fall would come
for years I was numb
My tears fell like rain,
and spring thawed my pain
as the seasons go by
the memories don’t die
When you left
from life, I withdrew
and a piece of my soul died, too
life and death are a mystery
and my sadness will always be
you come back to me
It is momentous for me that I wrote a completely, new song last week. My song addresses my grief, which always reappears with my child’s approaching birthday and death day. I wanted to share my song with people who I knew truly understood how I felt. I wrote a message to the online grief group that I belong to. I excerpted words from many of the gut-wrenching messages that stood out for me over the last few weeks:
“In one day my life changed. I woke up in a very dark place and I felt so terribly sad, I lost my energy, I felt dizzy, I lost control of myself and everything that used to define my personality.”
“I am lost. I feel like all the energy has been zapped from me. And I have to work tomorrow.”
“My world ended for me that night. I have cried a river of tears and my world will never be the same…”
“I find myself just wandering around not really knowing what to do. I can function for a while and then I fall apart at the slightest thing. I feel like I’m going crazy. I’m emotionally drained and physically, I hurt.”
“But I don’t feel like I used to before she died.”
“I just wish I could quit crying. I will be doing fine and then I will just cry like there is no tomorrow.”
“I’m constantly crying, and I feel like I’m drowning in this sadness. I don’t want to keep living this way. I just wish someone could tell me how to fix it.”
“I understand why I hurt so badly when you died. Thank you for your gifts that forever changed me. Treasured within and now a part of me.”
“Once you have experienced a death, you are never the same. I have changed with each one. Normal is not a word that I use at all anymore.”
“But here’s the deal. I will never feel the old normal again and that tears me out of the frame some days. The only people I trust are the folks who have shared this experience. They have the wisdom I need.The rest, no matter how well intended, I just dismiss.”
“I try not to think about it but still hurts very deeply. Sometimes you never get over missing them. Sometimes you don’t get over the pain, the guilt, the sadness, the unfairness, and just plain grief.”
Below is the message I wrote to my those people above and to many others who are grieving:
All of those words I’ve copied I could relate to completely! I realize that I have perhaps grieved more years than many of you. It has been nineteen years since my five-year-old son died in 1992.
After reading so many messages, as well as from my own experience – it is clear to me that words alone cannot convey the true torture and anguish of grief.
A year ago I began to write about my life and to play my guitar again after thirty years. I discovered that with music, I could truly express my feelings.
Last week, I had so much sadness surrounding my dead son’s approaching birthday and Mother’s Day. I decided to write a song that completely addressed my grief and sadness. The honesty of my lyrics released my pain, as I wove my words into a haunting melody from my heart.
I know that I am not alone with my pain and sadness. Sharing my song with others whom I know truly understand this level of pain, is very healing for me.
My writing about grief could be a “window” for you. However, grief is very personal and everyone is different. My experience is not yours. But it might be interesting to know what it could be like so many years after your loss.
“A piece of my soul died, too”
Grief changed me forever. The loss of who I was before was another loss added on to my heartache.
After many years, I see that the person I’ve become has value because of my sensitivity and appreciation for goodness in my life.
I did not feel that anyone in the world could understand my level of pain for a very long time.
After many years it changed, and I could feel everyone else’s pain.
The opera of my child’s death played on and on constantly and it was horrible for me. Over time, the pain was lessened because I couldn’t remember the gut wrenching memories that tortured me. Losing the memories softened the pain, but was also sad because I felt farther away from him.
After many years, I accept that my child is truly dead. However, I feel like he is still with me in a different way, and that gives me comfort.
I used to dread waking up in the morning. I didn’t want to wake up; I wanted to be dead so I could be with my child.
After many years, I cannot wait to wake up because I love my writing and my music. There are so many things I want to express.
Below are clips from my voice lesson with Peaches Chrenko while I was writing my song:
© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2011. 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.