Soon, I hope the curtain of blurriness will lift after my cataract issues are resolved. But the true meaning behind my post title is my dream of stepping out from behind a curtain onto a stage. The dream that I carry is that someday I will become well-known in my pursuit of helping people suffering with grief or other challenges in their lives. I believe I will be embraced by many people for my honesty. I look forward to singing with joy and spreading my message of hope.
My dream is most certainly keeping me going during a very difficult time in my life.
I am writing for my blog because I was told to “take it easy” for the next few days. Therefore, as a respite I am going to enjoy the therapy of writing an update about my life.
Saying “I have a lot going on” would be an understatement. However, having a lot of challenges in my life certainly is familiar for me. It’s probably easiest for me to list things in black and white.
MY GOOD LIST:
1. My youngest son started attending a new high school and he is doing spectacularly well.
2. I made it through my first cataract surgery on my right eye. I get to say goodbye to my rose-colored glasses, which I purchased only three months ago. As I type this, even though things are a little blurry, I am elated at the amazing improvement.
3. I wrote song lyrics to go with my beautiful instrumental from last week. My song is called “My Dream” and it is helping me so much.
4. I am continually reminded that I am cared about by many wonderful friends and family members.
5. My audio book is growing closer to completion. It is now completely recorded, and 75% of it has been closely edited. My song vocals are also almost finalized.
6. Other than my eyesight issues, I AM HEALTHY!
MY BAD LIST:
1. Two lawyers received large checks (Divorce retainers) from my husband and I this week. Perhaps this wasn’t so bad, as now I am relieved of negotiating with my husband. Both of us have told each other that we’ll let our lawyers figure it out. Sadly, that costs a lot of money!
2. I am very indecisive about my plans on where I’ll be moving.
3. The nursing home where my mother lives called to inform me that my father owes $6,000 in unpaid medical bills (The first I heard since he died in May). As retaliation, my mother’s pharmacy coverage is not in effect anymore, which could result in her eviction. This is a lot of stress, but I am going to figure it out somehow. A mistake was made and this is WRONG, WRONG, WRONG.
4. I am feeling very overweight and heavy. I want to get back to dancing through my days again. I know I will.
Before having my cataract procedure, I closed my eyes and listened to my iPod. My newest song captivated me and I was enjoying a recording I had made the day before in my closet. As I was singing the lyrics of, “I wait behind a curtain,” suddenly the doctor drew the curtain back in front of me. The irony of that gave me a huge smile.
I received wonderful care and continued to smile throughout the procedure.
As the cataract on my eye was removed and a new lens implanted, I was wide-awake with my eye staring open. A kaleidoscope of colors intermingled with delicate veins flashed before me. The surgeon explained what he was doing while he tugged at my eyeball. I did not feel anything and was totally relaxed.
My father’s voice was clearly in my mind because he loved this eye surgeon very much. I’ll never forget how both my father and mother were thrilled with the results of their cataract surgeries.
Later in the evening, the surgeon left me a message on my cell phone. He said, “I’m just checking on my best patient ever.”
That was his joke to me because I told him I would be “the best patient he ever had” before the operation. As I listened to his message, I felt my father hugging me.
“You will emerge”
My message to a grief-stricken woman on a grief forum (in blue):
At this juncture of you life, words offer little comfort. I wrote to you recently and told you how well I remember the pain after almost 20 years. However, I need to clarify something. Remembering the pain is quite different from suffering with it.
You are experiencing an “amputation of your soul.” When one has their soul amputated, it is just that. A piece will always be missing. It is not visible, and eventually you will heal and adjust. Right now, blood is pouring out of your heart and soul without any stopping.
I questioned God, too. You will be doing that a lot, I’m certain.
That process is probably the most isolating thing a human can face. No one can help you. Not your husband or your son or anyone. I remember how I searched for someone to understand; my husband who was grieving did not want to ever talk about it. I looked for others who had lost a child, and although it helped in some ways, it truly didn’t take away my pain. They did not lose my beloved son, Jason. He was my first child and he lived for 5 years with a congenital heart defect. He was delicate and sick. I poured my heart and soul into his care. When he died, I didn’t know where to put my energy and devotion. I had a two-year-old son at that time that was quite challenging. When Jason died, my world was filled with his constant screaming.
The reason I am writing to you is to offer you hope. This horrible process you are going through will continue. I wish I could tell you that it will magically end, but it doesn’t. It continues forever. What will stop is the agonizing pain. It changes. It becomes tears of joy at remembering beautiful parts of your son’s life. And at some point, you will laugh and smile again. For a while, you might even feel guilty about it – thinking that you love him less because you are laughing instead of sobbing. Please don’t.
Trust me, you will go on and you will help others because you are a good writer. Grief is something very few people want to talk about. It is something hidden, and most people want to pretend it isn’t there. How simple it would be if we could just “get on with our life.” The problem is, life continues to go on for everyone and everything around us. The black hole of grief swallows us and there are many people that never emerge. They drown themselves in drugs and alcohol and die.
You will emerge. Just keep hanging in there.
Judy, thank you for your words of comfort. I wonder if I am going to be able to survive this. I spent most of the day in bed. That was the first time I felt so debilitated and helpless. I don’t want to have that ever happen again and I know it will and it scares me because I have just started this journey. I was no good to anyone. I couldn’t help my son or my husband because I couldn’t help myself. My soul was screaming out for my son and I just can’t understand why a God I believe in, wants me to suffer so much agony. We are not evil people. We have not hurt anyone. Why is the God I believe in, a merciful God, doing this to us? No answers. No comfort.
© 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.