BLOG ANNIVERSARY POST

Posted on February 17, 2011 by Judy

A poem I wrote when I was seventeen. I don’t know who I was writing to, but I love the message!

One of my favorite paintings. I have been a commercial illustrator since 1981.

When I illustrate – I spread out. I have written a lot about my illustration career on my Art Blog. The link is on the right side of this page (Illustrating My Life).

Performing at Border’s Bookstore.

My childhood friend, Steve, who has been very “instrumental” in helping me with my music. We had not seen each other for over forty years and were reunited last year.

I am sitting between Steve and his mother, Marilyn. Steve was my neighbor and we played together all the time when we were little. He moved away when I was about ten-years-old.

I think I am hearing music in this picture. The music stopped when I “matured.” I guess now I’m immature again!

I now feel the same way I did in this picture. I truly “transformed” this year.

A poem that I wrote while I was active in Compassionate Friends seventeen years ago.

I experienced a lot of trauma when Jason was in the hospital.

Jason only lived five years, but he had a very happy life.

I am performing in North Hollywood. Open mics are a perfect venue for me, and I always purchase a video of my performance. I have watched  tremendous improvement!

Before I began my blog, I was writing updates to all my friends when my mother was ill on a respirator in January, 2010.

My mother’s support enabled me to cope with Jason’s illness.

I was always very close to my mom.

I was always very close to my mom.

It wasn’t too long ago when I was able to still take my mother out to dinner. I miss those times. She died in 2013.

A picture with my brothers, Norman and Howard.

In this picture, Howard is on my left and Norm on my right. I am the “baby” in our family. I can’t believe I played tennis with that tiny, wooden racket!

I love this picture! I am a princess surrounded by my father’s junk. He was an intense hoarder.

I began playing my guitar at the age of fifteen. I am sixteen in this picture.

I am always amazed how I wrote the lyrics to my song, “Through My Music” without experiencing many of those feelings until later in my life. I do not remember how to read or write music anymore.

I created this image to go with one of my stories. Jason died in 1992 when he was five-years-old.

Playing my guitar with Jason, who loved music very much. He was always singing and dancing.

This was one of Jason’s art projects. For me it represents him being an angel with his red heart on display.

I was always a very happy child.

I wasn’t kidding when I said I always had a big smile most of my life. That was until I experienced deep grief and “Zombieland.”

I received a lot of love my entire life from my parents.

A picture with my parents at their nursing facility in April of 2009. My dad was suffering.

I love this picture taken with my mother when I was fourteen-years-old.

My father with my mother while she was in the hospital after breaking her hip. I refused to allow her to have surgery because she wouldn’t have survived it. She ended up being able to walk again.

I loved sharing my songwriting passion with my close friend, Cheryl, while in college. She died in 2008 and I have grieved her deeply.

I love this picture of Cheryl and I.

A picture of my childhood friend, Joni, when we were 8-years-old. We’ve known each other since we were toddlers.

A picture taken with my childhood friend, Joni, after we met with a music producer she introduced me to.

A picture taken while hiking with Joni and Carol. Carol and Joni were both at my twentieth birthday party so many years ago!

My two friends with me when I turned 20.

My two friends with me when I turned 20.

My friend, Carol, whom I hadn’t seen in thirty years. My ex-boyfriend, Dr. Sam, told me how to find her after he found my blog in 2011.

I reconnected with Sam, who was my boyfriend on and off for four years through high school. Sam gave me a lot of ideas to write about, especially regarding my grief.

Playing guitar for Sam back in 1977. Sam is a doctor and has been very generous and helpful sharing advice with me. We corresponded a lot on my blog about grief.

A picture with Sam as we got ready to leave for my high school prom in 1977.

A page from my diary about my parents.

My song “Alone” was written before I had ever had anyone close to me die.

My two friends, Allison and Lori, with our “subsequent” babies.

I reunited with Allison and Lori, who were both close to me at Compassionate Friends. We all had subsequent babies at the same time.

A picture with my beloved, Jason, when he was five-years-old. He will never age and will always be that way for me.

I know I look really happy in this picture taken after I ‘transformed.”

Peaches Chrenko was my first vocal coach. She was supportive and inspiring for me.

A picture of me working with Peaches when our lessons began in 2010.

One of my seashell paintings that worked perfectly for my Alabaster Seashell song.

My guitar was “attached to my hip” when I was younger.

A sign I made to remind my son to wear his retainer. Did I mention I love Photoshop?

When I was fifteen-years-old, I published a book of mazes.

Miriam was my mother’s caregiver and made my wonderful, life possible. The love and care she gave my mother was simply amazing.

A page from my diary when I was 21. I already felt sadness because my music had “stopped.”

In high school I won a secretarial award. Little did I know that all those typing skills would come in so handy when “blogging!”

This is probably my favorite picture of performing with my guitar when I was nineteen.

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2016. 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.

Posted in Biographical | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

NO WORDS FOR YOU-PART 1

Posted on February 13, 2011 by Judy

NO WORDS

Click the blue links to hear my song:

NO WORDS FOR YOU

Copyright 2011 by Judy Unger

;–

When you were born, I can’t explain

You found a way to ease my pain

You truly are my butterfly

Transforming my life, with your first cry

–

Sometimes there are no words

there are no words for you

no words for you

you have given me love

given me love, given me love

–

I can’t describe, my pain you’ve cured

I try and I try, there is no word

You truly are my butterfly

I sing from my heart this sweet lullaby

–

Sometimes there are no words

there are no words for love

no words for love

that has given me life

given me life, given me life

–

You truly are my butterfly

You lifted me up into the sky

–

Sometimes there are no words

there are no words for life

no words for life

that has given me you

given me you, given me you

there are no words

Below are pages from my youngest son’s baby book:

Babybook page 1

A poem I wrote after my daughter was born. She was born before it had been a year since Jason had died.

I am a singer/songwriter clearly who was influenced by the music of the 1970’s. One of the songs I used to sing was “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?” I’m certain that my inspiration for “No Words” was that song.

In “Where Have All the Flowers Gone” there was a progression from the beginning that went back to the ending. First it was flowers, then it was young girls, then young men, then soldiers, then graveyards, and then it went back to flowers. On my song, it was “no words for you,” then “no words for love,” then no words for life,” and back to “no words for you.”

My three stanzas were written when I was probably seventeen years old. I did not remember any of the melody except perhaps for the very first line.

When I went to record my song today, it was the newest song I’ve ever gone to record. I literally was still writing lyrics for it last night. I added two more lines of lyrics to the instrumental section, which felt a little too long without them.

“Winning a Granny”

Music represents the magical part of my life. The rest of my life is quite ordinary. I fixed dinner for my family of five. Just before dinner when there was a quiet moment, I approached my two, subsequent teenagers whom I wrote my song for. (Separately) I casually said to each one, “Would you like to hear the new song that I wrote for you and recorded today?”

I was rebuffed with, “No thanks, mom.”

My daughter said at dinner, “Hey, mom the Grammy’s are on tonight!”

I decided to ask for trouble. I grinned and said, “Maybe someday I’ll win a Grammy!”

My oldest son said, “Yeah, mom you’ll win a Granny!”

A lot of arguing and yelling ensued. Between all the insults and my husband demanding our children apologize to me, I secretly chuckled.

The birth of our daughter added a lot of joy back for my oldest son.

I can actually see my “bitten fingernails” in this picture. I stopped biting my nails last July.

–Comment left on my blog by my friend, Lori, whom I wrote about on

POST #2 RECONNECTING & REMEMBERING

On Dec. 17, 2012, Lori wrote:

Judy, I love that you wrote about subsequent children. Do you remember when Dave and I saw a therapist right after Matthew died and she told us not to have another child because I was trying to replace my dead child? Thank god, I never listened to her! Katie brought us so much joy in such a horrible time in our life. Although she never knew her brother, she knows every detail of his life from us and I love when she talks about him.

I just got finished reading your blog on grief! It was amazing! You wrote from your heart and I hung off of every word. Your words are exactly how I feel and I bet the majority of bereaved parents feel the same way. It was like seeing all my thoughts put into words. I read and reread what you wrote several times. It gave me chills knowing you wrote “Alone” when you were only 17 years old, not knowing what was to come.

If it’s okay with you, I would like to share some of your writing with friends, who although never lost a child, stuck by me through my grief. Even though they were always there for me, I never was able to express to them how I really felt. Since my journey through the grieving process is so similar to yours, I would like them to read it so they could have a better understanding of what bereaved parents go through. It will be interesting to hear their thoughts.


Love, Lori 

Lori’s son, Michael (a bereaved sibling), is with my daughter in this picture.

Michael and my oldest son became close and both mourned the loss of a brother. Michael is in the middle between my two children.

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

Posted in Grief Stories | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

WHEN YOU WERE BORN, I CAN’T EXPLAIN

Posted on February 11, 2011 by Judy

I decided to switch verse one and two.

“My thoughts on subsequent children”

Last week, I rediscovered the melody to go with lyrics to an old, love song composed when I was seventeen. The song was called “No Words.” The song had three stanzas, but required something more. For some reason the song stood out for me as a song for my child, not for a lover anymore. I decided it would actually become a song for my “subsequent children.”

I must explain what a “subsequent child” means. It is a child who is born after a child in the family dies.

Having another child does not ever replace the child that has died; that is impossible.

However, for those suffering with grief, it is an excellent place to rebuild – to find optimism and express the aching love. It is a reaffirmation of life!

As it usually is for me, the mysterious process happened again. I composed a bridge. I was humming along to the chord progression and the words fell out of my mouth.

I really liked my new words, however, my lyrics were extremely idealistic and not completely honest.

I was not cured of pain, sadly, with the birth of my subsequent children. It certainly was part of my survival, and a beautiful part at that.

The lyric line “erased my pain” would be more accurate if it were “eased my pain.” But then my song would not feel as optimistic.

I still feel those lines are honest, but it just took a very, long time. Grief was a process, and it changed me forever. There is no cure.

I like my songs to be “relatable,” and I wanted other people to be able to relate to having any sadness eased with the birth of their child.

With my daughter

“Being in control”

Sometimes I’ve had the common illusion that I’m in control of my life. Loss and resulting grief, is an awareness of the precariousness of life.

When I became pregnant with my second child, Jason was still alive. However, I was grieving the loss of having a healthy child. I focused a lot on my prenatal care and had a lot of testing done to alleviate the worry of having another child with a heart defect. This focus continued even more so when I had my two, subsequent children after his death.

I became pregnant with my daughter almost immediately after Jason died. I began my pregnancy filled with amnesia. When she was born, I was still “numb.” Every stage of grief was different, and the anguish was always unbearable.

“The eyes”

I don’t remember her name anymore. I haven’t seen her since the day my daughter was born. I wonder if she still remembers me.

I was surrounded by a lot of compassion and sympathy during my obstetric visits. Perhaps my sadness was so overflowing, it was hard not to notice it. There was a special, nurse practitioner; I wish I could remember her name.

Her eyes were what I remember the most.

Her eyes were filled with kindness and I could really feel she cared. She was worried about me. She would always ask me at our appointments if I were taking care of myself. I told her I was worried that my unborn child would be affected by my crying so much; though I couldn’t imagine any way to change that.

I don’t remember much about my daughter’s delivery because of my amnesia. This practitioner was there throughout and it was very comforting. The memory I have is of her eyes again.

Her eyes were huge, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. I was holding my infant daughter close to my breast. She said to me, “Your story has moved me so much, and I will always remember you. I am so happy for you now.” It was the last time I saw her.

“I contained it”

I wrote about when I became pregnant with my fourth child on the second post of my blog.

When I became pregnant with my youngest son, it was four years after Jason died. I was actively involved at Compassionate Friends and deeply grieving. It was different from my daughter’s pregnancy; in some ways I was more despondent and sad.

I navigated my pregnancy differently and was more aware of my grief than when I had my daughter a few years earlier.

Years had passed since my son’s death, and sympathy for my situation was far less. Most people believe that grief has a timetable and after a year it is “time to get on with your life.” Unless someone has experienced grief, they truly have no idea about it.

I surrounded myself with “fellow grievers” who understood, and I did not impose my sadness on anyone else. I contained it.

However, as my pregnancy progressed I became very depressed. During the last few months every day was like torture for me.

I had a doctor appointment two weeks before my due date. By coincidence, the doctor was a woman I had gone to high school with. She could see how my deep depression was very obvious. I will never forget that appointment.

This doctor said to me, “Judy, would you like to deliver your baby tomorrow? I’ll set it up for you. I have some concerns about your blood pressure and it’s fine for you to deliver now.”

I thanked her and felt some of my sadness start to lift. It would soon be over and I had another new beginning in my life.

“The sobs”

An induced delivery was painful, but I didn’t care.

It was over; I had just delivered my youngest son. I began to cry. At first, it was a river of tears but then it changed to heaving sobs. The spasms were endless and flowed on and on; these were contractions that did not stop.

There would be no happy pictures and videos. After an hour, I remember being asked if I was nursing – otherwise I could receive a sedative.

I tried to catch my breath and stop the sobs, but they continued erupting. Gradually they slowed down and rolled from me gently into silence. My exhaustion had taken over.

My body was totally empty now and there would be no more containment.

© 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.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I’M FILLED WITH TOTAL SERENITY

Posted on February 7, 2011 by Judy

A picture of me back in those college days. I have a watercolor assignment behind me that consisted of strips of the beach. I was definitely a “beach nut.”

Last Tuesday when I went to my voice lesson, my cold had already begun. Peaches was not thrilled that I came to my lesson with a cold. I pulled my chair back far away from her. She said, “Would you also mind turning your face in that direction?”

I pray I did not get her sick. I realize now that my voice has vanished, but it is not my livelihood. The effect of something as simple as the common cold on someone who sings for a living did not escape me.

When I hear the croaking noise escape my lips, I wonder when I’ll actually be able to sing again!

I decided that having a cold was definitely a reminder to me that I am not super human. Lately, I’ve felt a little too powerful – I needed some appreciation. It was challenging waking up with nostrils so clogged that I felt like there was a vise on my sinuses. It wasn’t so exciting to face my day with that feeling.

I’m grinning because it was. I love my life and everything I’m doing. I wasn’t about to let a cold get me down!

I might not have been able to sing this weekend as I had planned, but I still strummed my guitar and thought about song possibilities.

I have very much enjoyed listening to my recordings, and have many ideas of improvements to all of them. This is not about my vocals. That is certainly something I will be doing. However, I understand a lot more now about arrangements and instrumentation. I have many ideas for my songs!

I hardly ever mention much about my former career, which was one as an illustrator. Writing about my art career has been another venture I’ve enjoyed very much.

My art blog is at: http://foodartist.wordpress.com/

Since I had more time this weekend, I decided to update my art blog. I decided I’d write about the experience of illustrating Beechnut baby food. For all of art blog posts, I utilize puns for the titles. I sent out a request to Sam, my ex-boyfriend from high school to help me come up with a better title. He was always very good with puns.

On Feb 6, 2011, Judy wrote:

Hi Sam,

I indulged myself to work on an art blog post – I wrote about my illustrations for Beechnut baby food. So, I’d love to hear what you might come up with for a title on this one.

The ones I’ve thought of so far are pretty lame. Here they are:

“This assignment was my baby.”

“I was jarred when I received this big project”

‘I was a nut for Beechnut”

Judy

I have a special group of friends whom I email regularly. I share all of my emails. Carol, my friend whom Sam helped reconnect me with after thirty years is part of my group. Carol and Sam were engaged a long time ago. Carol jumped in with her idea:

On Feb 6, 2011, Carol wrote:

“This assignment was easy to swallow?”

Oh Carol! I like that one! It’s better than my lame choices. However, it also could be geriatric – that fits into my life well!

It will be interesting to see what Sam comes up with!

Judy

Sam did get back to me after the Super Bowl.

On Feb 6, 2011, Sam wrote:

“Beseeched by Beechnut.”

“My days as a Beech Baby.”

“Beech Baby, Beech Baby, all done by hand.”

It was so hard for me to choose a title, that I had to come up with something completely different! (To find out, you’ll have to check out my art blog!)

When I first began writing my blog, I wrote a lot about my family life. I haven’t really had much time or inclination to do that for many months.

However, tonight I felt like I had to. I decided to approach this as a creative writing assignment – something fun!

I had a dog (Teddy), so I knew if was only fair for my kids to have one.

5:00 p.m.

“Crap!” I said to myself. I had five more scans left to finish on my post about baby food. However, my poor family was getting hungry, so I would have to finish later. I noticed the pile of tissues next to my computer was smaller than before – perhaps that nasty cold was retreating?

Of course, when I answered any of my children my voice came out raspy. This was definitely not my voice – I was inhabited by Rod Stewart!

My oldest son looked forlorn. He came into my room shirtless to inform me his fever was back. How could he have another cold? He was just sick a few weeks ago. This “bug” was definitely traveling through our house. I stopped what I was doing. I had to fill another pitcher of tea, and give him more medicine.

In between doing that, I called in the food order. It was decided that “The Habit” would fit the bill for our family dinner tonight. Since there was plenty of leftover chicken, I ordered only a salad for myself. I could manage with leftovers even if no one else could.

I was ready to disengage from my computer now because I realized I was getting hungry. I put on my iPod. Sweet music caused my soul to soar, and I was very happy to go pick up the food. I hadn’t been outside all day and needed to hear music.

Everything went so smoothly. I came home and started to take out all the bags. Everyone had something different. I took out my leftover chicken and stuck it on a plate. Then I noticed. My youngest son’s burger wasn’t there – it was left off the order.

I felt annoyance, but nothing phased me.

I called the restaurant. They told me to come back and they’d make it up to me by adding some french fries to the order. Although I was starving – I figured it wasn’t a big deal. It didn’t bother me to get back in my car, because I put the music back on and felt happy.

I ran into the Habit, smiled, and thanked the cashier for fixing my order. I was almost home when my cell phone rang. I knew it! My family was wondering where their food was.

My daughter said, “MOM! You left the food on the table and Killer had a great time eating everything!!”

I gasped. Life was definitely getting more challenging!

6:00 p.m.

I came into the house. I could see my husband was surveying the damage. It seemed that our Chihuahua, Killer, had only eaten my leftover chicken. Thankfully the other food was spared – however, my daughter still thought it was possible he had licked everything.

I gave the dog my despicable glare, knowing full well my husband had already forgiven him. It was all my fault!

Thankfully, there was more leftover chicken in the refrigerator for me. I felt relief. All was well!

Everyone sat down and started gobbling their food. Life was good again. I had already forgotten about the cat vomit I had cleaned up before dinner.

Then my husband said, “Hey, there’s an extra burger here. Whose it for?”

They look so innocent in this picture! How dare they add to my workload!

Our cat, Sky, is saying in this picture, “Please forgive me for messing up the carpet – don’t worry the dog will eat it!”

© 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.

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment