myjourneysinsight

THE PLACE INSIDE MY HEART

Posted on April 25, 2010 by Judy

MOST RECENT MESSAGE AT THE “CARING BRIDGE” WEBSITE:

SATURDAY, AUGUST 8, 2009 4:30 PM, PDT

Yesterday was Cheryl’s birthday; she would have been fifty. I am so sad thinking that mine is approaching, and she is not here to share the occasion with me. Another year has flown by without her, and I know that many things have changed. With the sadness and grief, time has led to the acceptance that she is truly gone. I know she would want everyone to remember her without pain and heartache.

I am so happy for Zev and his upcoming marriage tomorrow. It is wonderful to see happiness again for the Kessler family.

Still, I will always miss Cheryl. I have wonderful memories, and I often hear her voice in my heart.

With love, Judy

LINK TO THE CARING BRIDGE WEBSITE

A diary page from March of 1979

Exact Message sent to Zev, Cheryl’s husband on 11/17/07

Dear Zev,

It is so clear in my mind that summer where you visited my home with Cheryl and your kids. We were in the backyard around the table, and I can still picture the chair where you were sitting. I mentioned to you that day how special it was seeing Cheryl, and your response was that reconnecting with friends had become a high priority. Looking back, I realize then that you knew. Before I lost my son, Jason, I knew – it allowed for many videos, pictures, and treasured moments I’m grateful for. However, with that knowledge comes the awful price of facing suffering from the disease.

You are an amazing caregiver. I am so far away from Cheryl and her “other life;” the twenty-five years after our youthful adventures. However, I think about Cheryl more often than you can imagine. It is difficult for me to even comprehend the challenges that you face daily and continue to face. I only know from my experiences, that making your loved one comfortable in the face of suffering – is probably the greatest challenge of all. On top of that you have to balance supporting your kids and not allowing them to worry about you. I always felt that it was worse to watch my child suffer than it was losing him. Right now you are in the throes of the unimaginable.

Please know that my heart goes out to you. I am far away, and I wish I had the ability to let go of all my personal responsibilities to come and be with Cheryl. I hope she knows that even though I am not there physically, that I care about her very much. I have tortured myself daily, because I know that the time has run out for me to see her again.

It sounds like you have amazing community support in Cleveland. So many wonderful friends surround you both, and I am grateful for that (as you are, too). I’m sure you have been told how strong you are, yet no one ever expects to end up in the position of dealing with tragedy – what choices are there really?

There are no words that can truly ease your pain. I just wanted you to know, that Cheryl will always be a part of me and she will never be forgotten.

The Kessler family – Cheryl, Zev, and their three children in 2003.

Exact Message sent to Cheryl on 11/17/07

Dear Cheryl,

This is such a difficult letter to write. I still remember when you called me (I can’t remember when it was exactly) – it was all so unreal; when you shared with me about the cancer spreading to your brain. Of course, we had that visit where you had recently experienced excruciating headaches and I still remember how difficult it was for you dealing with medication and the side effects. Our conversation that day was like out of a movie; words were completely inadequate to express the feelings. It still doesn’t seem real.

Here I am, so far away, and you are on my mind. I have tortured myself because I really had hoped I could come to Aliza’s Bat Mitzvah somehow – or even be at your bedside; spending time with you before time ran out. Saying that my life is complicated seems like such a lousy excuse. I wished so many times that I could clone myself, and just get on a plane and leave! The only thing that allowed me some peace of mind, was knowing that you have so many unbelievable friends in Cleveland and that you were well taken care of. I also knew, deep down, that you understood my situation and despite the fact that I am not there, you know that you are always in my heart.

Working on our special book, helped me to feel that you were close by. And when you left a message on my answering machine (after you received the book), I saved it on a tape recorder – You can’t imagine how many times I played it over and over! I had hoped that over the months since we had our “farewell” conversation, we would be able to chat. I think it was just too painful to talk about anything mundane. Plus, I was acutely aware that you had very little energy left due to your illness and the chemo. I never wanted to deplete you; I wanted you to save your energy for your family.

I think about you all through my day, Cheryl. And I probably will for a very, very long time. I always pray that you are not in pain. I worry a lot about your family, especially your mom. It is a blessing that your mom is not seeing you suffer. I want you to know, that I have not called her at all, because I know it would be very stressful for her now (and that you prefer it that way). Barry and Diane have been a great source of comfort for me. However, I want you to know that I will try my best to give your mom whatever comfort I can when you are gone. I know how important it is for your mom to know that you are living on and never forgotten. These words are so difficult for me to write! But I wanted you to know this. I can speak to your mom as a bereaved parent and although there are so many differences in our situation, I will be there to listen.

You’ve created such beautiful children Cheryl, and it’s amazing to think that your oldest daughter is at the age when we met! I’m not sure that I know what more to write. I read your website daily and there are so many heartfelt tributes to you. All of them are true. You are the epitome of courage and grace. Our time together was so much fun, because you always lived life with such enthusiasm and excitement. I wanted to share everything with you! Hiking, dancing, and being with you were some of the best times of my life. Wherever I am, I feel you within me. It’s been awhile since I’ve read the words you once wrote for me, “A Place I’ve Never Been.” I will share them again with you. When I read what you wrote, it gives me comfort. Thank you, Cheryl, for the honor of having that place inside your heart for me. You always have a place in mine.

Lyrics by Cheryl

Music composed in 1980

Copyright, 2010 Judy Unger

a place i’ve never been

how can i tell you of a place i’ve never been?

a place so dark and mysterious

that no one dares to walk

not even me

how can i tell you of a place that’s deep within me?

a place that is a part of me

as your music is

a part of you

i feel, i sense, i am aware

yet why, i cannot grasp

is far beyond my reach

how can i tell you of a place i’ve put aside for you?

a place where the sun never shone

and the flowers never sang

the place inside my heart

© 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, Cheryl Kessler, childhood friendship, composing, creativity, death by breast cancer, death of a close friend, Friendship, friendship and death, GRIEF RELATED, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, original songs, songwriting | Leave a comment

I’LL NEVER FIND ANOTHER YOU

Posted on April 24, 2010 by Judy

Click the blue links below to play audio recordings created after this post:

Excerpt from my Diary 11/17/78

Another excerpt from my diary

THE TITLE OF THIS POST IS A SONG I WROTE FOR CHERYL

In 1978, I met Cheryl at a one-month college/camp retreat held at the Brandeis-Bardin Instituted in Simi Valley, California. The one-month experience was for college-aged students from all over the country, and even from other countries, as well.

Cheryl and I actually connected when the retreat had ended. I remember meeting her on a beach outing.

If I had to describe her, I’d say that she embodied the child-like quality that I love in my younger son. Her vision of the world was one of wonder and joy. She would respond to anything I did with wide-eyed wonderment and enthusiasm. We could talk for hours on the telephone and she deeply shared in every aspect of my life.

Needless to say, we had a blast. I kept a diary that outlined our intoxicating adventures. When I read about the adventures, I find myself incredulous at how much fun we had. It doesn’t make for good reading, since I would prefer to read more about my feelings. I was too busy writing about my joyous adventures to share feelings!

That isn’t really true. To express my joy, I wrote many songs.

She shared in my music, and sometimes we performed together. She wasn’t a singer or performer; she would get very nervous. I pushed her quite a bit. I wanted her to experience the joy of performing with me.

I was always pushing her to try things with me. Her exuberance and enthusiasm fueled that desire. For most of my life, I have loved to swim in the ocean and “boogie-board” on waves. Cheryl was terrified to do that, but she totally trusted me. One time we went out into the ocean and a set of waves approached that were enormous. It was terrifying for both of us. She held onto me and trusted that I knew what to do.

Those days of swimming in the ocean are also over for me. I cannot bear the cold water anymore!

In addition to sharing music deeply with her, we shared a love for Israeli folk dancing. There was a lot of exhilaration for me through dancing, including the enjoyment of beautiful music pulsing through me.

After I got married, I stopped folk dancing, just as I had stopped playing my guitar. However, in all fairness I did take up tennis.

I have so many incredible memories with her. I will share one of my most favorite ones. As usual, I forced her to follow me into another precarious situation. We went to watch a concert at the Greek Theatre in L.A. We watched from the hillside behind the venue. It was a free adventure at that time, but required a bit of hiking to get there. I brought a flashlight, blankets, and we had a picnic dinner. We watched Barry Manilow and it was a perfect evening.

However, when it was over and time to go, my flashlight wasn’t working. I had done this many times. We would climb down and end up at the last row of seats. Then we would exit with the crowd. I had us wait until it was less crowded, and then it was time. We both gingerly climbed down through the darkness.

Suddenly, she slipped and I heard her thump to the ground. The hillside was fairly steep and dirty. In the darkness I could hear her hurtling downward screaming all the way. I raced to the bottom of the hillside to find her, hoping not to fall either! I didn’t know if she was okay or not!

There she was, buried under a pile of leaves. Her entire body was covered in dirt. It was horrible at the time, however, we both laughed about the experience for many, many years.

Many of my best memories in life were with her. She shared with me the joy I felt when I fell in love with my husband.

I hope that my other dear friends do not feel any less beloved to me. They were also a huge part of these memories, too. I had many friends in my circle beside her. I think of that time in my life as a “circle of friendship.”

It was a joyous time in my life as I celebrated the greatest party of friendship I had ever known. I haven’t had that since.

Recently, I am starting to reconnect with friends again. Friendship helped me to survive my most recent, difficult time dealing with my mother’s illness. I reached out, since I hadn’t done that through the other trials in my life.

However, just as with Elena, I allowed myself to be deeply hurt by Cheryl. I wasn’t as deeply hurt as with Elena, but it was painful. Our friendship recovered, however.

When we resumed our friendship after a “rocky” period, it was quite different. There was still great joy, but I was more careful and more aware about the limitations of friendship.

Our friendship reached its pinnacle, when she became very involved as my “maid of honor” prior to my wedding. She loved everything about weddings, much more so than me. I didn’t have any of the passion for it that she did. However, her excitement fueled the anticipation of the entire experience for me.

After I was married, our lives diverged.

Cheryl left on her travels, however, we did keep in touch. When she returned, she attended graduate school locally. She became engaged to the man she traveled with, but he broke it off with her.

I’ll never forget the day that her engagement was broken.

She showed up at my home. I can still picture her face the day she knocked on my door to share her desolate pain. I was painting an illustration assignment and I was lonely. I took care of her as if she was one of my children, that day! I was very comforting for her, and she was appreciative.

She recovered, and we both became busy again with our mature lives.

A few years later, she became engaged to a fellow graduate student, named Zev. After her wedding she moved to Colorado with her husband, and we no longer communicated much after that.

The years went by until the day her father died. She was living in Denver, and was coming in for his funeral. It was the day that Jason came home from the hospital and I had been up all night.

We talked and cried – she understood why I couldn’t come to the funeral; Jason was having a circumcism ceremony that same morning!

After that, we carried on a long distance friendship. I was sad for all her trials and ordeals dealing with breast cancer. Cheryl and Zev had three children and they were close to the same age as my children.

The romantic, passionate, college friendship became a real friendship.

The saddest part about writing about Cheryl is the ending. That is because I have to examine my frailty once again. I had to admit that I didn’t have the fortitude or the strength to visit her before she died.

It might have been possible, if I had chosen to make it happen.

It was true that my family was not at all stable. It was also true that it was so uncomfortable for me to enter the situation to see her as she was dying.

I wasn’t able to do it!

I could list my excuses: my family needed me, it was too expensive, it would be too difficult to face her death, and on and on. It didn’t matter.

Because, she was my friend – she understood and I loved her for that.

I almost bought a ticket for her funeral in Cleveland. I was tortured, as I looked up last-minute flights. I decided if I had really planned to go, it would have made more sense to see her alive. I knew she would understand when I was unable to push myself to even go to her funeral.

I must accept that I never said goodbye.

Although we reconnected on the day of her father’s funeral, we only saw each other once every few years. Occasionally we talked on the phone.

When Jason died, she wrote me a very special letter.

I spent six months instead creating a special book for her. She loved the book. I took all the diary entries and transcribed them, so we could both share the fun in remembering our wild outings. I made a copy of the book for myself, as well as for her.

I omitted the parts in my diary when we were not communicating well.

I also omitted the parts about her first engagement, because I knew she’d want to share this book with her husband and children.

After she died, I shared my copy with her mother.

Although I didn’t attend the funeral, I was told eventually there might be a memorial in Los Angeles. Her mother was so bereft, that a memorial was too difficult for her.

I have kept in close touch with Cheryl’s brother and his wife, Barry and Diane. They were wonderful in keeping me informed as to her condition. I derived a lot of comfort from them.

After Cheryl died, I called her mother.

Barry said she was unable to speak with me.

I thought I would keep in touch with Cheryl’s mother. I kept in touch with my tennis friend, Linda’s mother for many, many years after Linda died.

Two years have passed. I understand her pain is very deep as a bereaved mother like myself.

Yesterday, I shared my blog information with Diane on the phone. She told me that Cheryl’s mother spends a lot of time now on the computer. She has been healing slowly, and gets a lot of pleasure emailing with her grandchildren. That sounded really encouraging to me.

I plan to bridge the gap. I’m planning to visit all of them soon.

Cheryl’s husband remarried about a year after her death. He looks very happy, and I’m joyful for him. Diane told me last night how wonderful his new wife is. She calls Cheryl’s mother and frequently updates her about her grandchildren.

Memories from a folk dance retreat

My insight about my friendship was that it was a path I traveled on to maturity.

Just like romantic love, I went from a fantasized notion about a relationship to a real one. This one ended with death, however, I can celebrate everything that I learned from the experience.

When we progress from fantasy love to adult love, we become so much deeper.

I know I am flawed and human. Cheryl was also an “imperfect human,” and I love her deeply as I remember her. She may be dead, but she is inside my heart and in my songs.

ANOTHER YOU

Here I am writing to you,

when I know you’ve heard these words before

But now there’s so much more

And it’s mostly left unsaid

And here I am singing to you

When I know that you’ve heard every song

But this one is lifelong

The music is forever

And I know if I search my whole life through

I’ll never find another you

I could search and search my memories, too

And I’ll never find, I’ll never find another you

Here I am, shining to you

And I can’t believe what’s happened to me

And all the joy is there to see

And what you would have wanted

And I know if I search my whole life through

I’ll never find another you

I could search and search my memories, too

And I’ll never find, I’ll never find another you

Special cards I received from my friend

Tagged acoustic guitar, childhood friendship, close friendship, composing, creativity, death of a friend, Friendship, friendship and death, grief, grief and friendship, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, writing | Leave a comment

AN ATTACHMENT FOREVER

Posted on April 24, 2010 by Judy

I want to share the attachments of our love. She might be gone, but love never dies. I have learned that from Jason.

My story will follow later on, because the attachments are what tell the deeper story.

The very first thing I want to share is a letter from her that I found while going through Jason’s box.

There were many, many sympathy cards to look at. I came across a handwritten note on notebook paper. It was crumpled and didn’t look like much. As I read it, I cried deeply. I knew I cried reading it in the past, because there were tear stains on it.

Cheryl’s note was a perfect example of an outpouring of love from her heart. I cannot help but cry each and every time that I read it. I cry because I can feel her love for me.

Transcription of the letter Cheryl sent to me after Jason died:

I have thought about you every day since Jason died. So many times I have sat down to write you and didn’t know what to say. Please forgive my belated response.

Though we haven’t seen each other much over the past few years, I know through our conversations and occasional visits that you are both good parents. Jason was lucky to be born into a family who gave him so much love and were committed to doing what needed to be done (as difficult as it may have been) to keep him happy and healthy.

You had some difficult decisions to make about his care but you got the necessary information and advice and made good, sound, decision in yours and Jason’s best interest. You need to know that those were the best decisions for Jason – even if things didn’t turn out the way you prayed and hoped they would. You are good parents. I was always impressed with your strength and determination.

I can’t imagine the pain you are feeling – I just hope that you are getting the support you need from family and friends. Feeling the pain and letting others help you or listen to you will help you heal in time. I know that you will always miss Jason. I’m glad that he was able to be a part of your family for as long as he was.

I hope you find comfort in knowing that you extended his life, as short as it was. Your love, your energy, your attention, your concern kept Jason alive. He was so lucky to have you as parents.

I will wait to call you. I don’t want to push if you aren’t ready to talk. I hope that my words have offered you some comfort.

You are always in my thoughts. Please give your son a kiss for me.

Love, Cheryl

The book that I made for Cheryl.

WEBSITE FOR JUDY & CHERYL’S MEMORY BOOK

In 2006, Cheryl’s breast cancer had spread to her bones.

I made a special book for Cheryl to give her. It took me about six months, and I learned a lot about utilizing my computer from the experience of compiling that book.

When she received it, she called me and left a message on my answering machine. I left that message on my machine for a year. Finally I decided to take it off. I recorded it onto a cassette, because I couldn’t bear to erase her voice. It meant so very much to me. Listening to her voice, I can feel her with me again.

However, the grief I feel overwhelms me, no matter how many times I’ve listened to her message.

I search for her everywhere and feel her with me when I am singing. I can hear her speak to me sometimes. I’m convinced that she and Jason must be together somewhere.

Her phone message is below, and I’ve transcribed it since the audio is of poor quality:

AUDIO OF CHERYL THANKING ME FOR HER BOOK

Judy, it’s Cheryl.

I just opened the present and I don’t even know what to say! I sat there reading it – crying, smiling, laughing – it is the most special, unbelievable present I have ever, ever received and I will treasure it always – Because it just brings back such wonderful memories and the feelings in our friendship.

So give me a call or email me, or something. I just wanted to let you know that I’m just blown away by this beautiful, beautiful gift. Thank you so much; I love you. I’m doing well; my scans were good – and I get a break for a while. They’re going to keep an eye on me. But, you know, things are going okay right now. So, thank you for all your love, and energy, and strength that you send this way. I’ll talk to you soon. Bye, bye.

An example of one of the book pages from the special memory book I made for Cheryl.

Tagged child's death, childhood friendship, college memories, composing, Friendship, friendship and grief, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, loss, memories of friendship, original songs, songwriting | 1 Comment

MY LYRICS SOAR, WHILE MY HEART EXPLODES

Posted on April 23, 2010 by Judy

Performing and alive.

“I cannot wait to wake up each morning”

I started my writing journey as a way to release my feelings that were closed up for thirty years. However, I’ve felt like I’ve needed to figure out where my writing is going.

Actually, the feeling is not about “going anywhere” with my writing, as much as the fact that my writing is somehow taking me on a journey! I am following, not leading! I have placed no structure as to what I’ll write about, or even how I will write. My newfound, creative passion has allowed me to sing until midnight last night, and then wake up to write at 4:30 a.m.

And I’m not tired at all!

I used to feel exhausted, and expected that I needed a certain amount of hours of sleep every night. I do still take short naps every day.

I feel so much freedom! I can play tennis or I can practice my guitar. I can write or I can scan photos and/or my paintings.

In between, I’ve gone shopping, ran around with my kids, fixed meals for my husband and I’ve basically been an ordinary middle-aged woman.

But this is not an ordinary time for me. Because I’m enjoying what I’ve been doing, so much weight has been lifted off of me. For the last thirty years I’ve been taking care of so many people.

I do need to find some balance, because my family, parents, and husband still need me. This “change in me” has certainly affected those close to me.

I have concerns that this creative time is finite. I am certain that I’ll need to be a caregiver again for my parents. The awareness of that possibility makes this time even more precious for me!

Our financial situation is about as dire as it as ever been. But I have such confidence in succeeding, that I am not worrying about it anymore.

I am truly living now, and every day I look forward to waking up in the morning (or even the middle of the night), because I have so much creative energy!

Playing outdoors.

“Being a writer”

My carefree life ended in 1981. After I graduated college and was married, I became very depressed while I was working on my art career. Being an artist was very demanding as I was constantly required to perform at the “top of my game.”

After my wedding, I disappeared into isolation. Many of my friends traveled to Europe and Israel after college. My own two brothers went to Israel after college. My parents didn’t feel it was “safe” for me to go. I was always a “good girl,” and accepted whatever my parents told me. I wrote about my feelings on the following post: #7 NO INKLING OF A DISINGENUOUS TONE regarding a recent opportunity to go.

In that post I shared that although I would love the experience, I cannot go without Michael. He has been waiting for us to travel together for a long time. Yesterday, he told me that he fully expects I’ll be typing on a laptop when we do travel. His excitement was visible when he told me that it would be fun for me to write about real travels!

I never could explain exactly why my intense love for music suddenly ended at the age of 21. I couldn’t use children as an excuse, because I waited seven years before having Jason. I’ve often explained that by letting go of music, I was able to direct all my “creative energy” toward being an artist. However, being an artist was not therapy for me.

I plan to write a ton of material soon about what has been involved in my becoming an illustrator. I have notes that include explaining how to paint a water droplet or how to create an orange peel texture. But being an illustrator was about utilizing all of my creative abilities to solve a “puzzle.” It was always a performance, fraught with anxiety. I always felt intense relief after completing any job I’d ever done. That has continued to the present day. I get tremendous satisfaction seeing my work printed, although the printed result is often disappointing.

Due to issues with my eyesight, as well as an admission about the level of stress, I am not sad about leaving my art career behind. I was sad when I was looking for a secretarial job to bring in some income!

Being a writer has been the greatest excitement in my life that I’ve had in a very long time.

Writing is fulfilling in a different way. The process is definitely therapy, but unlike a painting – seeing what is printed on a page overwhelms me. It looks like far too much for anyone to read. I have little desire to go back and work on it. I may never put my own book together!

For some reason, I have so much confidence in the unique, blog forum, that I’m hoping that will serve my writing well.

I am not focused on success right now. But I am hoping it will find me!

I’ve created a formula for creating “orange peel texture.”

“Opening Up”

I have started to write about my close friendship with Cheryl.

There are many lessons and insights for me about my friendship with her. As I sat down this morning to write my feelings, I wasn’t sure which part to begin with. The ending is sad, for sure. Cheryl died of breast cancer died two years ago.

Somehow, I cannot begin the story without a framework for my insight. What’s so beautiful about a blog is that I can add so much to the framework through the use of audio and images. I have a lot of “attachments” that I will share. The framework will help to put everything in context.

However, since I’m entering the period of my friendship with her – the best way to remember her is to share my music. That must be why I am feeling so much urgency to play my songs again.

What I have discovered is that my journey is definitely about insight. Writing allows for this. Speaking does too, and I’m ready for that if and when the time comes.

Singing and songwriting allows for me to express my passion as nothing else can!

I can access my “pipeline to my heart” because the music and the lyrics were composed by me! I may not be a professional singer, but it doesn’t matter. Anyone hearing me sing who has read my writing, could understand what I am feeling when I am singing.

Singing is totally “in the moment!”

I have written lyrics and composed over thirty songs, but I only remember twenty of them. I wrote three, classical pieces that I no longer remember how to play. I used to have a repertoire of thirty classical pieces, and now I have only two or three.

I wrote five different songs when I was close to my friend, Cheryl.

I wrote one song using lyrics from a poem she wrote for me.

When I was in high school and then in college, I used to sit in the sun and play my guitar. My favorite place to play guitar was at the beach.

Sometimes, people would gather to listen. It was far easier to play classical songs and not pour out my voice to strangers.

With my friends, it was different. There was so much passion and sharing. Sometimes, I would play a new song for a friend in my car. I couldn’t wait to share my excitement about it!

A few of my songs were written because I wanted to write a love song – even though I wasn’t in love at the time. However, most of my songs involved stories with the long ago friends I was close to.

My writing journey is carrying me toward the passionate period of my life that involved my songwriting. I have mentioned many times that there have been interesting coincidences in my life.

Why did my writing journey begin with songwriting? While emailing my friends for support during my mother’s illness, I somehow shared some words about my love for songwriting. Out of the blue my childhood friend, Joni had a connection and offered to put me in touch with a producer that she knew.

My very first post was writing about my excitement to meet with this composer and producer.

Before that appointment, I had only begun practicing my guitar for two weeks, after not having played it for thirty years! I did play “Puff the Magic Dragon” a lot for my children, but I didn’t count that.

Up until recently, I have not had the confidence to share my 50-year-old voice.

I’ve shared some old recordings, but soon there will be new ones!

The next coincidence was the fact that my youngest son encouraged me to take vocal coaching with his teacher at a public park.

I thought there was no way a fifty-year-old could sing again.

My teacher, Peaches, is amazing. Even though I took voice lessons many years ago, I never was able to “open up my voice.” In only a few weeks, those lessons with her have helped me tremendously. I have even decided to increase my lessons from half an hour to one hour starting next week.

When I first picked up my guitar after thirty years, I felt melancholy about the fact that I had forgotten so much. My music and songs were going to leave this world with me, especially as the years have gone by – so much was lost. No one would ever hear them, not even my children. (As a side note, they’re still not interested!)

But last night, I began to play with newfound joy due to my voice opening up again. I can see myself in the mirror of my large bathroom where I’ve been playing. I can be wearing a robe and glasses, and I definitely look like I’m fifty. However, Joni Mitchell comes to mind as I express myself in my own unique way!

I don’t care what I look like, or what anyone thinks about my music. I’ve decided to pursue sharing it in a bold way. I’m very excited about this.

As I was singing last night, the joy of accessing my “heart’s pipeline” was sensational.

Writing therapy is “typing at a snail’s pace,” whereas with singing, my lyrics soar while my heart explodes!