I SING FROM MY HEART, PART 1

When I received a secretarial award in my senior year of high school, I had submitted my “biography.” More to follow at the end of this post.

It was a special moment for me to acknowledge that a year had passed since I began writing about my life.

Currently, I am trying to compile a book from the over 2,000 pages I wrote last year for this blog. Since I’ve eliminated the word “should” from my vocabulary, I tell myself instead things such as, “I could be working on the book now.” That is because I passionately prefer writing new material over editing my book!

Pressure is never helpful for me. Even though it is boring working on the book, my motivation is the fact that I will be able to reach a larger audience that way.

“I wasn’t very nice to him”

Although I realize I’ve written a lot in one year, there are still more things for me to say. I am not finished writing!

Perhaps now I can “delve deeper.” The casual statements that I’ve made often have memories and stories to tell behind those words.

I begin now with one of those statements found at:

#99 THIS ONE IS LIFELONG

“I find it amazing how I have reconnected with my childhood friends. Steve was the little boy I used to boss around when I was eight years old. He was my slave, and I wasn’t always very nice to him. Steve and I played practically every day together until he moved away when I was ten. I hadn’t seen him or spoken to him until April of 2010. By my count, that would be about forty years!”

“Guess whose visiting today?” my mother said.

It had been two years since my “buddy” Steve had moved away. Today, he and his mother were coming to visit us! I believe I was twelve-years-old that day. Steve was two years younger than I, so he was ten.

The moment they arrived, Steve came running over to me. He was bubbling with excitement to show me a mechanical contraption he had brought with him. Suddenly, I felt disdain – it seemed so silly for me. I told him so.

Steve showed no emotion, or I didn’t notice. I felt very grown up. Suddenly, I felt like our childhood games were now too “immature” for me. He begged me; he wanted to play our favorite game on bikes we named, “chase-away!”

I shook my head, no. He had a lot of other ideas. We used to pretend we were in a submarine while in our bathroom. Nothing sounded like any fun for me. In fact, I started to feel quite annoyed with him. Would he ever “grow up?”

I wasn’t very nice.

I was in the kitchen. His mother, Marilyn, came over to me and said, “Judy, can I talk with you?”

I listened carefully to her words. She said, “You know, Steve has been looking so forward to seeing you – for weeks! He is devastated that you are so disinterested in what he brought to share with you.”

My eyes were wide. The impact of her words stayed with me. I never forgot that moment.

I went back over to Steve. I put my hand on his shoulder and I said, “Let me see that neat contraption you brought – tell me about it!” My attitude changed completely.

That was the very, last time I saw Steve. It was forty years later when I saw him in April of last year.

Working with Steve on Saturday.

Working with Steve on Saturday.

It has been less than a year since I began creating song recordings. Certainly, I have improved from when I first started recording with George. Initially, I sang many of my songs in keys that were too high. Sometimes, I didn’t consider nuances of tempo, retard endings, or song format.

Despite all of that, I am amazed at the beauty of George’s arrangements and consider the biggest improvement of all my singing ability. Therefore, since I want my music to be part of my story – I want to have the best vocals I am capable of.

When I reconnected with Steve last year, I wrote about our reunion at:

#38 MY REBIRTH

Since that time, we’ve corresponded daily. Steve has worked tirelessly on creating “mixes” of my arrangements. He experiments and always gives me excellent feedback. Here is a message from him that shares some of his background:

On Aug 6, 2010, Steve wrote:

My first paying job was at the radio station I was volunteering at. I thought the technical work the engineers did was “cool” and whenever I could I would watch them work. I was asked if I was interested in learning how to do “fill in” work. You had to have an FCC 3rd class license to do that (as you were controlling the power level of the transmitter), so I got the study guide and studied it all by myself. I passed the test on my first try (while many adults failed it). Soon after I started working weekends, including past midnight (a “no no” for minors) and I never had any “work permits.” It was great and I was making adult money. Those were fun days. Steve

Lastly, I have begun recording new vocals at Steve’s apartment in Los Angeles. Steve has generously volunteered his time to help me. I am sharing some of our correspondence when we came up with this idea last December.

On Dec 27, 2010, Steve wrote:

I emailed a friend earlier who works in radio (we used to work together), he’s going to loan me a Neumann TLM 103 microphone for as long as I want it, we can see how you sound with it.

Steve

Oh my god, Steve, that’s soooo exciting – I’m honored to have such a good mic!

I can’t wait. When you’re back, look at your calendar and let me know when is good. I’m very open – except for my Borders nights!

Judy

It’s not the $3,300 U87 that everyone wants; this one is about $1,300 I think. It has a lot of the same components as the U87 though – the ones that are important for use as a vocal mic. I’m also going to try a new Mic Preamp, which is a critical component too, and I am hoping will add warmth to the sound.

Steve

All this good equipment – and I’m such a mediocre singer. I’ll give you A+ feeling, though!

Judy

Ps. Hey – you’ve made good recordings for me after I sang into the mic hole on my Mac. Imagine how much better this is going to be!

This past Saturday, Steve and I worked for five hours on three songs. The new versions are now on the blog, and will continue to be “refined.” I entitled this post, “I SING FROM MY HEART” because that is true for me. At this time, I am really trying to improve as a singer, so as to better convey my message.

Below are clips from my voice lesson with Peaches Chrenko. Once again, I am sharing my passion of being a singer/songwriter!

PEACHES LESSON A – 2-18-11

PEACHES LESSON B – 2-18-11

PEACHES LESSON C – 2-18-11

Hmm, a business career might have been more rewarding financially. No way! However, business skills are helpful in life.

© 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.

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BLOG ANNIVERSARY POST

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.

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NO WORDS FOR YOU-PART 1

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.

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WHEN YOU WERE BORN, I CAN’T EXPLAIN

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.

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