myjourneysinsight

SONGWRITING 101 – PART 2

Posted on September 24, 2010 by Judy

A picture of my mom and I when I was fifteen-years-old.

It began with a melody. The chords were sad and haunting; I liked the subtle mood of this song, but the existing lyrics didn’t fit. They were Cheryl’s words to me; I had added the music thirty years ago. The title of the song was, “A Place I’ve Never Been.”

I decided this song needed some new, special lyrics. I felt ready to write something completely new.

I scrawled out at least ten pages of feelings. I wasn’t trying to make rhymes – I only wanted feelings and words that were simple. Nothing hit me.

A few days later, I tried to sing a line or two with my chords. It didn’t fit. I tried again the next day. Two lines worked, and I was able to create a perfect rhyme that didn’t cause the meaning to stray.

I was elated, because suddenly I had a verse!

Later that same day, I created another verse – and then the bridge came together. It was definitely hard to change the former lyrics, which I was so used to singing. This would be the first time I created completely new lyrics, even if it did go with an existing melody. I felt uplifted and excited!

I played the haunting chords and tried singing those new lyrics, so I could become comfortable with them. Not every word flowed well; a certain amount of crafting was necessary. I couldn’t make up my mind on each line – was this word or that word better? I decided to ask a good friend who is a writer for her feedback.

In the meantime, as I practiced the first verse, I knew the lyrics were powerful for me. Tears began to fall as I sang. They cascaded down my cheeks and my throat quickly closed up.

Message to my friend, Janet:

I have been slowly “crafting” my lyrics for a new song. Sometimes I find the impact is actually lessened with crafting. I had a lot of options, and I created two versions showing some “alternative” words and sentences. Would you be interested in giving me feedback?

I tried to make my song “relatable,” so that it could be someone is leaving not due to age!

Love, Judy

Ps. I started a possible “album cover,” which I wanted to share.

Hi Judy,

Just printed the lyrics to make it easier to compare. No immediate thoughts, but I’ll look at it again later in the day.

I like the concept of the album cover, but I think you can find a better contemporary picture of yourself, one that conveys your newfound happiness. I think you look grim, serious; pained in the picture you have chosen. Where’s that infectious smile?

More later. xoxox

Hi Janet,

When you read my lyrics – you’ll know why I’m so serious.

Actually, that picture will NOT be the album cover. I made it while having one of my introspective moments. I want my song to be more “universal,” and my cover implies too much that it is a “parental” thing. In fact, when I used the word transparent – it sounded like parent! But I liked the imagery that conveyed – as well as “fading.”

In the meantime, thank you, thank you, for your willingness to look at this.

Love, Judy

Response to my recent message shared with an on-line grief forum:

Judy, your words are put so elegantly. I am impressed with how you put into words what you are/were feeling. It’s clean, crisp and clear yet it does real justice to how grief feels.

Thank you, Shasta

Thank you so much for your message, Shasta.

You have been the only response to what I wrote; I was worried that I sounded “preachy!”

There can be nothing good that comes out of losing your child. However, if I were to search for something – I would say that my son’s death gave me a special gift. I have a way to find words from my heart. Your compliment honors me. That is because I am a songwriter, and I need to find words that are “clean, crisp, and clear” in order to sing smoothly.

I am in the process of writing some new lyrics – after 30 years of not writing songs; this is very exciting for me. All of my transformation came about from writing about my child’s death. I cry with my new lyrics about how it feels watching my elderly mother “fade away.”

Glad I could share with this group.

I know I am farther along in my grief, but my heart still breaks with every message I read.

Judy

Today, I went from there to see a physical therapist to address my painful issues with carpal tunnel syndrome.

His name was Lyn Paul and he has worked with a lot of musicians. Within a minute, he told me I most definitely had carpal tunnel syndrome.

Although he saw mostly musicians, the irony was that he told me there was no chance my problem was caused by my guitar playing! He said, “You can’t imagine the problems computers have caused! Playing an instrument is not pressing on the nerve. With keyboards, the problem comes from resting your wrists on the table as you type. I guarantee you that if you stop doing that, your problem go away!”

After a gentle “treatment” on my wrists, I was told that I could go home and play my guitar. It was important that I stay flexible. My fingers were still tingling, but the ache was gone!

Life was good again. Somewhat.

My mother’s phone call in the later afternoon was again challenging. She didn’t make sense as she explained that, “I was imprisoned during my lunch outing and I’m angry at your brother!”

My mother’s support in dealing with my cardiac child was crucial for me. I am sharing (in progress) what I have been writing. I’m sure it will evolve more – good lyrics involve a lot of rewriting.

My mother’s support in dealing with my cardiac child was crucial for me.

I am sharing what I have been writing. I’m sure it will evolve some more – good lyrics involve a lot of rewriting. The title isn’t set for me at all. Following those lyrics, I am attaching the rest of my songwriting workshop notes.

I wasn’t sure if I should share something so “in progress.” However, I have written this blog as a window into my soul as an artist, writer, and musician.

It is also a window that shares my heartache, and documents the challenges I face as a wife, mother, and a daughter.

AS YOU DISAPPEAR

(Lyrics in progress)

I long to tell you

I’m sad you’re leaving me

I miss the way

you used to be

It’s like I lost you somewhere

my loneliness I can’t share

I long to tell you

but instead I just pretend

it’s easier

not to face the end

I’ve tried to prepare

but your pain is so unfair

I feel, I sense, there’s so much fear

I try to be brave

as you disappear

I long to tell you

that I wonder where you went

It’s as if you’re transparent

you vanished in thin air

I search for you everywhere

I long to tell you

your departure I accept

though as you fade

I’ve slowly wept

of one thing we’re both aware

the memory of love is always there

© 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.

Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, composing, creativity, dementia, Friendship, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric composing, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, writing | Leave a comment

I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT HAPPENED

Posted on September 23, 2010 by Judy

I have been scanning a lot of old pictures, and reliving memories. Typing is difficult at the moment, but I am very good at denying pain.

I’m never sure when I will “post something,” and the desire came for me this morning. I have been struggling with hand problems, and wrote something about it last week. I entitled my words, “My pain is a lion.” I didn’t share that writing on my blog, because I was hoping the pain would subside, and I wouldn’t need to share my “emotional and overly dramatic” ramblings.

However, I’ll start out with some humor.

Despite what I wrote on “Her Song Unsung,” today my life did not feel like a love song!

Yesterday, it was early and I thought my husband had left for work (he was actually in the bathroom). I had my Ipod next to my bed and my headphones were on. I was listening to Peaches singing my song, “Saying Goodbye.”

I decided to try “harmonizing.” I explored some really high notes – which sounded great to me. I forgot that no one else could hear what I was hearing. My husband came out of the bathroom and said,

“I thought I heard sirens! Do you realize your singing is going to wake up the kids?”

It was 5:00 a.m. at that moment.

I found that very funny!

On my way home, I stopped at the post office. I sat in my car for twenty minutes while taking a call from my mother. She was very upset; she was that way yesterday, also.

However, she was not upset about anything rational.

It was impossible for me to comfort her. I strained to find patience, as I explained to her that anger was not helpful for her. My mother was angry with my father, all while he was sleeping in his assisted living location. They do not live together. She was going to call and wake him up to give him a “piece of her mind.” He had not done anything!

I explained to my mom that my father was an “old, sick, and tired man.” I wanted her not to blame him for his condition and inability to meet her needs.

Then she told me she was angry with her caregiver. It progressed to her becoming angry with me. I understood.

Her anger was about her own condition. She was aware that she does not have any control in her life. She felt powerless, and her capacity to find words has diminished so quickly.

She said to me, “You are my daughter, and you have all the words – so I cannot win with you.”

I told her that everything I was saying were things she had taught me.

She insisted that wasn’t so.

I found the evidence to show my daughter I wore a bikini in my prior life. I know she’ll insist I used Photoshop!

Written last week:

“My pain is a lion”

I awoke and the metaphor was clear. It was a lion. The pain in my hands was definitely like a lion “roaring.”

Last night, I strapped Velcro braces on each wrist. The night loomed long, even though I wore headphones and listened to my music, which soothed my soul.

The braces were the “lion’s cage.” I could feel the lion roaring – there was a throbbing, which might have been excruciating for me if released from the tight brace. Held at bay by the tight straps, I willed myself to accept my situation.

Now it was morning, I removed the braces and the lion was released.

I was brought to my knees and humbled.

My youthful feeling was hard to maintain while looking at my “arthritic” hands. My wrists hurt and I could not bend my fingers. I’ve never been one to say prayers. I prayed that sensation would return.

Like a morning sunrise, gradually sensation came back. However, it was far from normal. I could barely type this without grimacing.

I tried to stay positive.

I would describe myself as an agnostic – I don’t know what I believe; that is honestly how I am.

I’ve had glimmers of faith sometimes. I heard myself asking god this very morning, “Have I not been appreciative enough? Are you testing me now to see whether I can maintain my joy?”

As I walked around my kitchen struggling to do the simplest things with my disobedient hands, I was listening to my own song “Just a Tune,” which I recently recorded.

The words jumped out to me! I was speaking to the god who I wasn’t sure was listening. Those words were:

“And with all the gifts you’ve given me, the greatest one of all was when, I could feel joy again.”

That truly was my greatest gift! I will accept whatever is my fate now in my life.

I shared my hand problems last week with my former, high school choir teacher, Frankie. She sent me an email. Her message was that I should quickly go see a certain specialist. He worked with musicians that had hand problems from the L.A. Philharmonic. Frankie is a professional organist. She told me that when she had shoulder problems she went to see him, and it helped her so much.

I thanked her for her concern. I did not have outside insurance, and I was having lab tests and an MRI done through Kaiser. I wanted to first find out if I actually had carpal tunnel syndrome.

She responded to my message:

Dear Judy,

This doctor can tell you immediately what you have because of his enormous experience. I do understand the concern about expense, but I also know that he rarely sees a person more than once or twice. I wasted a lot of time with another PT with my shoulder injury and should have gone to him right away. I look forward to an update.

Love, Frankie

My pain was wearing on me. I sent Frankie a message.

Dear Frankie,

I’ll call and see what an initial visit costs. I’m certain he would know right away something that might be helpful. I wish I wasn’t so broke. We’re in really bad shape. All the money I’ve spent on recording has given me more pleasure than anything I’ve ever had in my entire life! However, sometimes it feels like an addiction, because we can hardly afford it and I can’t stop myself.

Love, Judy

Dear Judy,

I will pay for your first visit, should you decide to pursue that at some point. What you said about an addiction was very interesting. Because you were finally able to blossom and express yourself, it is understandable that you wanted to continue.

Love, Frankie

I am sobbing as I read your message, Frankie.

I’m having such a hard time. I thought I could maintain my joyful spirit! My mother’s mental decline is wearing on me. She is now having personality changes. She called me to rant about how angry she is at my father, then her caregiver, and now she is angry with me! I know she can’t help it.

I am discouraged about my hands.

I hate for this to be about money, and your gesture to pay has me crying. Honestly, I have learned so much about how to “treat myself.” I am worth it – I know!!! That is why I am recording and using the word “addiction” wasn’t helpful. It is my passion, and it isn’t that I “can’t stop,” it’s that I don’t want to.

In my heart, I do believe it will pay off for me and be worth the investment.

I’ll call this doctor soon, and keep you posted. I love you so much, Frankie.

Love, Judy

Over dinner, I mentioned to my husband that I decided I would see this specialist.

He said, “I remember you driving our daughter out to Santa Monica to see someone. You spent a lot of money for nothing!”

I had already made my decision.

I dialed the number. I asked how much it was – it wasn’t exorbitant. I was told that this doctor specialized in treating musicians. The lady on the other end said to me, “When do you want to come in? We’re here Tuesday through Friday.”

I looked at my calendar. “How about next Thursday?” I said.

She said, “I thought you have considerable pain. Do you want to come in sooner?”

I hesitated and said, “I could come in tomorrow. Do you have any openings? Will I get relief to where I could play my guitar again?”

She said, “Yes, I guarantee you will.”

Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, carpal tunnel syndrome, Daily Life, dementia, Friendship, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, Humor, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Ordinary Life, singing, songwriting | 1 Comment

SONGWRITING 101 – PART 1

Posted on September 23, 2010 by Judy

Yesterday, I posted a video of my performance of the instrumental song, “Farewell” on YouTube.

I was on a cloud all day, because by sharing my video I was also touching base with many people who didn’t know about my transformation due to my musical journey.

I want to share another amazing coincidence in my life – once again. I received the following message below from a woman I play tennis with.

Dear Judy,

Nice! Did you know my father was a famous lyric writer? Check out his catalog; Buddy Kaye. If you are interested, he wrote a book named “Method Songwriting” when he taught at UCLA Extension. It’s a step-by-step for lyric writing. Let me know if you are interested and I would be happy to give you a copy (its out of print).

Barbara

Dear Barbara,

Okay, this is fascinating!

I attended one of his lyric workshops while in college! Of course it makes sense; you have the same last name!

He influenced me tremendously in writing my songs – you know I’ve written over 30 of them. I can easily picture him, still. Wow – and he was your dad! I remember he had a hit song – something with the word Valentine in it.

I’d love to see his book – although I still have those notes I copied.

I’m really glad I shared with you, Barbara.

Barbara gave me this book – her father was a great songwriter, for sure!

A picture of Buddy Kaye taken from the back of his book. He was my inspiration.

So later on that day, I went into my songwriting folder. On one side, all those notes I hadn’t read in years were paper clipped. A big grin came to my face as I read them.

Now I knew why I believed in “perfect rhymes,” in imagery, and in telling a story. It was from that informative workshop I had attended with her father. I wondered if he was still alive, and she told me he had passed away in 2002. My friend, Barbara, is going to mail me her father’s book.

It was so very fascinating for me and I decided I would share all of my handwritten notes on this blog.

An honest card from Joni when i got married.

Below are excerpts from an email I received the other day from my childhood friend, Joni. She came to watch me perform at Kulak’s on Monday. I played my song, “Her Song Unsung” that night. I had trouble remembering all the new lyrics, because I had written four, new verses to this song. I performed the last verse twice, because I forgot the last line!

Having friends are wonderful for building confidence. Joni didn’t notice my “flub.”

Before posting my new video, I had eight other videos on the Internet. Yesterday, I deleted seven of them because I was not pleased with my singing voice on those videos.

So, Joni liked my singing voice! My voice has changed with singing lower and I am not quite used to it yet. For certain, I felt a lot more confident to share my instrumental performance of Farewell. I actually smiled in a few places, instead of grimacing, which musicians can do inadvertently when concentrating!

Message from Joni:

Wow! Jude I loved that somewhat new song you composed. It said so much and thrilled me to see you so in touch with your calling. Your words were very expressive and I love the way you compose.You’re truly gifted; I love the lyrics “crystal oceans reflecting…in your eyes, pink clouds…” I don’t know; how do you come up with all these amazing visuals?

Thanks for the amazing music. I love it. It is all I ever wanted…to be lulled, rocked and caressed by your soothing voice and the amazing musical arrangement that you have recorded. It is the best.

Love always, Joni

I still remember standing up to give some song titles. Buddy said my title “OCEAN SPRAY” reminded him of cranberry juice!

Tagged acoustic guitar, childhood friendship, classical guitar, composing, creativity, Friendship, guitar, inspiration, lovesong, lyric composing, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, writing | Leave a comment

GRIEF 101 – PART 2

Posted on September 21, 2010 by Judy

One day, I decided I wanted to share my writing with other people who were grieving. I joined an online grief forum.

The heartbreaking messages poured in. It was hard for me to read them, because it reminded me so much of my own trauma. I felt like I was unable to reply, because I couldn’t imagine how my words could alleviate anyone’s suffering.

Eventually, I attempted to write something that I hoped might be helpful.

Here was a message that I wrote:

Your honest words were so heartbreaking that they brought tears to my eyes.

The grief journey changes our pathway in life forever. I wrote about my grief experience eighteen years later, and it still felt so fresh.

Here are the words I wrote earlier this year:

“Books have been written about the stages of grief. I have lived all of those stages. The numbness was bizarre. There was no sense of time. Eating, sleeping, living seemed outside the realm of what it once was. There was no purpose for anything anymore. There was no way to control the endless parade of intensely painful, repetitive thoughts. It was difficult to accept that my son’s death was real.

The most difficult moment of every single day was to wake up and face what had really happened. I did not want to wake up again – ever!

I looked at the sky – could he be there? I looked at a bird, at a butterfly – could his soul be within them so he’s visiting me? What was his voice like again; could I still hear him? There was no color in the world anywhere. There was nothing but shades of gray.

It did not seem possible that it could get any worse. It did not seem possible that it could get any better. It just was what it was. Empty. Sad. Excruciating. Endless.”

Just as people are all unique, so is grief. No person experiences grief the same way. Therefore, although I have experienced my own grief and shared in other people’s grief – I do not assume that I have the answers for you.

However, I would like to write about some of what I learned, in the hopes that any part of my words might offer comfort.

First off, I remember people who had experienced grief trying to make me feel better by telling me “time would heal.”

Although that might be true, those words never alleviated any of my pain! That was because time was not my friend; it was my enemy. It was excruciating and endless, and it didn’t seem possible that I could ever survive the intense pain. I never believed I would ever “heal.”

So I won’t say that!

As far as flashbacks go, I described my experience as an “opera of my son’s death.” It played over and over again. I believe that it was my mind’s way of trying to grasp that my son’s death was real. I could not control it at all, and I have so much empathy for what you are experiencing.

You have taken a brave and life-affirming step by joining this group. What helped me the most was grasping the hands of those that were also suffering alongside of me. It wasn’t about someone pulling me out of my grief. It was about holding those hands and together taking baby steps back into the world of the living. Only with those who were also suffering was this possible for me!

Therefore, any kind of support group, whether online or in a meeting place, might be very helpful for you – although once again, what was helpful for me is not for everyone.

I mourned the loss of my innocence and the loss of the happy person I was before my son died.

Now that eighteen years have passed, I can share that I have learned that life is all about losing our innocence. Of course, not everyone loses a child, but loss is definitely a part of life. It has given me great appreciation for my own life and for those I love.

Happiness has returned for me; so I mourned long ago something I just assumed I would never have again. That was a lot of wasted energy!

I would also like to say to be gentle to those who do not understand your level of pain. I remember the angry stage of my grief, and how I ran away from socializing with people because I couldn’t stand the “thoughtless remarks.” Well, those remarks are often not intended to be hurtful – even if they are.

I have learned that if the intentions behind them are “loving” it is best to accept the good intentions. Many people are very awkward in grief situations. Anger can further isolate you, and intensify the sadness.

Of course, anger is very understandable after losing our child. We were supposed to protect our child. Our child’s death feels like the ultimate failure!

Lastly, men and women grieve differently. I don’t know the exact statistics, but I read somewhere that 90% of marriages fail after the death of a child. Do not expect your husband to support you in your grief. Two people falling down and crawling cannot hold each other up. The best you can do is to survive until the day when the sun begins to shine upon you again. If your marriage survives, it is a testament to the child you created and lost. However, sometimes that is simply not possible.

You might have another child someday. However, your dead child can never, ever be replaced. You will always miss your child; your child is a part of you.

You are in my heart, Judy

My son may have only lived five years, but I have a lot of comfort knowing how happy he was.

Yesterday, before I wrote the message above, I felt my heart ache when I read this first message below:

8/19/10

Tomorrow will be a month since I lost my daughter and I am heart-broken. There are days that are worse than others. Today I feel like am living everything all over again, I have flashbacks that take me to the worst moments of my life. I lost my angel Sarah on August 19th at 10:45 am. She had severe abnormalities and if born would had to had heart surgery immediately among other things. All I did was kneel and pray, cry trying to bargain with God. I was so afraid that my worst fears would come true, and it did. I had 3 opinions of different doctors and they all came to the same conclusions. I had to take a heart breaking choice of letting my little girl go to heaven better than to bring her into this world if she made it to suffer eternally.

That was the worst thing I ever had to make in my life. I loved her from the beginning and wanted her so bad. I had so many dreams and hopes, plans…they all went with her. It was the most painful, heart breaking, and nerve wrecking thing I ever went through. They told me I would have twilight anesthesia, I wouldn’t remember anything. Such a lie, I remember a couple of things and the most horrible part when the doctor said we are almost finished I felt her soft little head coming out.

I felt I was dying with my daughter; I couldn’t stop crying through it all. I cry every day mostly when I’m in the car. I also have a 3-year-old boy; his name is Christopher and he is the purpose for continuing my life. He saw me crying so much one day he touched my face and said, “ma, no cry, please!” I told him I miss the baby, his little sister. He put his arms up and jumped up then he kneeled towards me with his arms toward me as if he was giving me the baby from up above. That was the most touching moment with my son. Every time I hug him I close my eyes and think I’m hugging my little angel as well.

Today I miss her more than any other day. I wish I had her in my arms. Sometimes I wish I had a grave to go to and cry my daughter than looking up at the sky and crying my heart out. My husband says that would have been worse for him but sometimes I wish I had one to go to. Thank you for listening to me.

Janett

Mother of an Angel in Heaven

Dear Janett,

I am so, so sorry for your pain! I remember so well going through this. It is agonizing and endless – I understand.

It has been 18 years since my son, Jason, died and I still think of him every day. However, it does get easier. It has been helpful for me to write about my loss, and I started doing that recently.

I wish there was a way I could help you feel better. Just know that you are doing the best you can by surviving. I found the organization Compassionate Friends very helpful. You might want to see if there is a chapter in your area.

Hang in there!

I shared this exchange with some friends. Steve wrote below:

Wow. I think many would think it would be “easier” (for lack of a better word) to lose an unborn baby you have never seen or even named, but I guess not. 😦 Steve

I learned otherwise from my friends, Josh and Jeanie who took care of Mike and I during our first month of bereavement how horrible was their grief after a stillbirth.

In some ways, it is an exquisite heartache to never have had the opportunity to know your child. My friend, Magda could tell you about that.

However, it was never helpful for me to compare grief – that was one of my greatest lessons.

I have written on my blog before about my friend, Magda. Briefly, during the oppressive regime in Romania, a cesarean section was not allowed because it allowed woman the option of not having further pregnancies. The regime wanted to increase the population; taking away basic human rights and dignity. Magda went into premature labor. Rather than deliver her baby, she was tied up in a hospital bed to labor for perhaps almost a week. She told me that she wished she were dead, because the pain was so horrible. Her dead baby was finally delivered, and her life was forever altered. She never had another child.

Magda read Janett’s story and responded:

JANETT’S STORY MADE ME CRY, I UNDERSTAND HER SO WELL. SHE WANTED HER DAUGHTER SO BADLY . . .

MAGDA

Here are sad emails I continued to receive from the “loss of a child” forum. I received these two messages:

Hi everyone,

This is my first time writing the group. My sweet baby was born July 6th, 2010. She was the most beautiful and sweet girl! We had a wonderful day together! It was so peaceful!

Anyhow, she wouldn’t eat for me the next day. So I called the nurse in. And that s when the nightmare started! My baby was diagnosed with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. She was rushed to another hospital, where she fought for her life. We had to make the most agonizing decision to turn off the machines and let her go on July 19th. It has been so hard! I miss her sooooo much!

I am hurt and angry! I try to understand what went wrong! I feel guilty to not have been able to protect her as her mother! I hate that she suffered so much!

I recently went back to work. It is difficult to keep it together. I do have faith! I know that she is in good hands now. But I should have been able to take care of her!!! I don’t know how it can possibly get any easier without her! Our family is incomplete. I feel like I am missing a huge part of me.

Thank you for listening! I get lonely. My husband will listen, but won’t talk about it much. So I feel like I bring him down, since I am constantly talking about it.  

Ellen

Wow I can’t believe it has been almost three and a half years since I lost my son, Hayden. I guess I pretty much blocked out the day of his passing and the few days after. For some reason, I am starting to get flashbacks of those days. Have you guys done this? My husband said it is just memories that my mind hid; and now they are coming out. I want the memories to be of my son when he was alive, not the memories of finding him. My son passed away in his sleep when he was 14 months old and I found him. Please help me.

TIA, Jaclyn

Later on in the day, these messages to Ellen appeared. It absolutely reinforced my words about reaching out in your own suffering to grasp for support.

Ellen, I really relate to what you are going through. My four-month-old son, passed away suddenly in his sleep. He was so wanted, loved, and he completed me. Now I’m left with a shattered heart and I truly don’t know how I can survive without him! It breaks my heart and just crushes my soul knowing I will never know the toddler, the boy, the teen, the young man, the husband, the father he should have become. I have been ripped off so much and no one knows why he died. They said he was so healthy and well loved……..the death of a baby/child is so wrong and cruel!

Ellen, so sorry you are having such a hard time. I think from my experience and reading others on this list that the horrible guilt is normal, not sure how to make it go away, as I still am haunted by my guilt.

It has not been long since you lost your sweet baby, I lost my son on July 7th of this year so am not much further on this horrible journey, but want you to know that we are here for you.

Dawn

I used to “compare my grief,” and thought it was “worse” to lose an older child. Of course, it was also worse than losing a “much older” child, too – there was more day to day involvement, I rationalized.

I easily admit how wrong I was! What was my purpose of measuring pain? All that led to was more loneliness!

The pain of grief is truly not measurable, and everyone handles their grief differently.

I feel compelled to share more about how heartbreaking the loss of an infant is. I plan to write more about this on a later post.

There is definitely “exquisite pain” for missing the opportunity to even form memories of a dead child!