myjourneysinsight

FILTER ISLAND – ADRIFT IN THE SEA OF LIFE

Posted on March 19, 2010 by Judy

Don’t kick me – even though I look like a white ball!

All of the writing I’ve done so far has been “unscripted.” Recently, I’ve started taking notes, and creating outlines for other “subjects.” I’ve been rather inconsistent in my daily writings or “posting.” I’ve mixed up humor with seriousness. I’ve juggled many different subjects at once. What is most helpful for me? That is all that matters right now, since my writing is my therapy. Therefore, I can do it whatever way I choose. I can choose to mix it all up! I’m sure I’ll get plenty of feedback later on when I compile this for a book. Therefore, my goal right now is simply to put it all down on paper!

As a tribute to my husband wanting to be my collaborator, I will write about how things are “looking up,” but it will be from our dog’s perspective. Of course, it seems to fit my circumstances very well.

My husband thought it would be exciting to have me write about that adorable, baby Chihuahua puppy that we recently adopted. Do my readers want to hear about a puppy?

I wonder if this cute doggy will end up with a diagnosis just from being in our household. I’m curious if any readers can relate to the things I have written about. I don’t believe anyone is “normal.” I only imagine how boring normal might be.

My children are all miracles, because I know where they have come from and where they are going. I did it all with every ounce of love in my heart.

My husband isn’t demonstrative at all, but he does go to work every morning to show his love.

LOOKING UP (FROM KILLER THE DOG’S PERSPECTIVE)

KILLER THE DOG: “Isn’t this interesting? The entire family of five people in this house are all on their computer at the same time!

Me: I grew up where TV’s were never allowed in our rooms. I stuck to that philosophy. Not one of my children has a TV in their room. Do they care? They have a computer, and Reggie watches Hulu.

KILLER THE DOG: I am so jealous of those cats. I am jealous of that bird. I am going to chase those cats even though they are bigger than me! I am not worried about them scratching my eyes out! I am a KILLER!

KILLER THE DOG: I am hungry; I will go eat cat food.

KILLER THE DOG: Why are those stupid cats licking my dog food bowl? I must have given them that idea. We share food now! We’re related! We’re pet siblings!

KILLER THE DOG: I am having so much fun with my chew toys behind the couch! There are pen caps, dreidles, and all the things that Rosa never cleans.

KILLER THE DOG: I like that girl who drops sunflower seeds all over. They are fun to chew. I wish that mommy person would stop prying them out of my mouth!

KILLER THE DOG: Noisy things just make me want to bark and add to the noise! Here’s the list that makes me yap: Parrot screeches, blow dryers, blenders, and Reggie.

KILLER THE DOG: Why is this crazy mommy person trying to teach me to fetch her newspaper? She is so lazy! All she does is sit at her computer and type – she can get her own newspaper. Plus, she really is taking a chance with me. I might run down the block and get hit by a car. That’s how I got away and found this house. If I get squeezed too much, maybe I’ll consider that again.

KILLER THE DOG: A few days ago, that crazy mommy person almost cut me in two by closing the door on me! If she thinks she can replace me easily, she’s mistaken!

Me: That dog is too smart. My youngest son, Reggie, may not be observant about many things, but he certainly noticed when I replaced our dead goldfish (It was years ago). He said, “Whatever happened to our other goldfish? This one has no personality.” He was right!

KILLER THE DOG: I am so excited that the mommy let me take a nap with her. I barked and scratched on her door until she let me in! She really needs a behaviorist. I will try to stop licking her face and let her rest. I will definitely promise not to pee on daddy’s pillow. He might not take me for walks in my new carrier if I do that. Oops, I forgot – I barked in my sleep and woke her up. I am so cute; she will forgive me.

KILLER THE DOG: Please, mommy, please give me that turkey again. I can make food disappear in a snapping flash at the speed of light. Look, no chewing! I do “food inhaling” tricks! And, if I do get diarrhea, don’t worry. I’m so cute that Rosa will clean it up.

KILLER THE DOG: I still like that boy that squeezes me. He is fun. Whatever doesn’t kill me will make me stronger – hey, that’s just like this mommy person here!

I just had to share one of my illustrations of mixed nuts. Sometimes, I feel I have so many challenges, that it makes me nuts!

I have been thinking of possible pseudonyms for myself, lately. So here are my ideas. I’d like to get some votes! How about:

Judy ROONEY

Judy BARR (After Rosanne Barr – Please bar her from making bad puns)

Judy Raise the BARR (a more positive version)

Judy UNGERBECK? (supposedly like Irma Bombeck)

Judy Chaotic CHILD? (after Julia Child – I’m tall, too!)

Judy “Leachy Kids” Leachman (After Cloris Leachman)

Judy “Cry” Rivers (After Joan Rivers)

None of those sound really good, so I think I’ll just leave my name alone!

Message from my childhood playmate Steve: (whom I haven’t seen in over 40 years)

On Mar 18, 2010, at 5:53 AM, Steve wrote:

Not sure any of those pseudonyms hit me. Team Judy….Judy’s Playhouse (a la Pee Wee Herman, which is having big resurgence). Judy ( I think the i prefix has been done to death). … Judy Supermom…

Regards, Steve

Hi Steve,

Okay, how about Judy’s Nuthouse? I could illustrate all my kid’s heads with different nut illustrations – that would solve the recognition problem!

Judy

Life continues to hold many lessons for me. Only a few days ago, I realized that there is truth to the saying that “Every day is a new day.” Today I have learned that “Every hour is a new hour, every minute is a new minute, and every second is a new second!” That can be interpreted as, “things can turn around in the blink of an eye” during the same day.

I’ve been enjoying the bad/good list. Let’s go back to humor, because that’s been helpful for me!

One of my illustrations for Frito Lay.

”10:00 p.m. “Thoughts Equal Feelings”

It was late. I had to take a Tylenol. I enjoyed painting; it had been a long time since I had any painting (non-digital) assignments. I went back to look; the last paintings were three illustrations for Frito-Lay back in October. That was six months ago! It was interesting for me that every project I illustrate was like a puzzle to solve. I have enjoyed illustrating landscapes. I have only done a few over the last thirty years.

As I was painting, I decided I would write an essay about art and what was true for me about illustration. I was so excited about it, that as I was working I wrote down notes of things I would put into that essay. I planned to list all of the lessons I had learned. It would be like sharing things I taught to college students. Most of those lessons were also applicable to life. For example, “Slow is fast!” I think that is self-explanatory!I called my sister-in-law. Her ninety-year-old mother was on a respirator. Her mother took a turn for the worse last night. It was not looking good. I felt her pain, and it was because I knew exactly what she was going through.

“The Plot Thickens”

I went to a funeral, yesterday. I did not have any trauma moments. That alone surprised me.

Death was not something that was openly talked about in my family. My mother’s words have always been, “Your grandma was terrified of death, and I am the same way!” I appreciated that my mother was able to express how she felt. My mother’s will to live has been unbelievable; that was why she survived her recent ordeal on a respirator for two months.

Until I viewed my child’s lifeless body, I had never seen a dead human before. When Jason died, my mother chose not see his body; it was too difficult for her. My father chose to see him.

I cannot believe I was able to just write that!

However, I did feel fine at the funeral yesterday. It was a beautiful day, in a beautiful place. As I drove there, I passed agricultural fields reminiscent of what I had only recently illustrated. I was calm all day long. At the cemetery, I didn’t go to all those morbid places I used to go.

I was actually still in a place of humor. I hoped my sister-in-law and her family would forgive me for that.

I had come alone; Michael offered to come, but I knew he didn’t have much time off available to him (He was off a lot, since his mother had recently died). While I was there, I received a text message from my son, the college student. It was such a riot. I will share that later on.

My husband gave the title for this post, “The Plot Thickens.” When he gave me that name, initially I asked him what he meant; he told me it was related to going to a funeral.

I told him, “The situation is grave. We don’t make jokes!”

The woman who had died was my sister-in-law’s mother. She was 90-years-old, and from the funeral I learned so many wonderful things about her.

The most important information I held onto was the fact that she had left this world in a wonderful way.

Death might not have been scary, when you imagine she was holding hands with her significant other loving her intensely as she expelled her last breath. Her daughters and grandchildren were all there, too. She had lived a long and (I believe) a satisfying life. How nice it was to go to a funeral and not feel trauma!

I was grateful for the brief, hospital period her family had endured. My sister-in-law had called me last week, when things were up and down with her mother. One moment her mother was off the respirator; the next moment her lung had collapsed.

One of my greatest fears when my mother was on the respirator was the vision that she would live out her days that way. I had heard that there were people living that way for years.

That is not living!

Mary who passed away (My sister-in-law’s mother) with my own mother. My mother broke her wrist from one of many falls she had.

Such a Prude I am! The “Thingy”

Okay, last but not least. I could have just ended with the above story. But I have a better one. My 19-year-old son is a college student attending the same college that I did, CSUN. He took an art class last semester. He enjoyed that class very much, even though in his words he often says, “Mom, I didn’t get a lick of your talent!” Because he has thought of becoming an architect, he decided to take a 3-D art class this semester. I told him that I certainly could not help him with 3-D art. He has littered my studio with cut-up cardboard boxes, and he has used up all of my strapping tape.

This class has been getting expensive. Currently, he was learning about sculpture and creating molds. He told me just last week, that twice he made the molds incorrectly and his instructor was annoyed with him. Yesterday, he sent me a text message with a picture while I was at the funeral.

He had just finished his clay creation; the next step would be to form a mold, and then he would create thirty, “cast” items. He told me later it was supposed to be the letter “L” to give to a “friend-girl.”

Here was the picture message he sent me with his caption:

MY ART CAME OUT AS A PENIS…NOW I HAVE TO MAKE THIRTY OF THEM!!!

“FILTER ISLAND”

It’s nice to go to a movie and come away with that “feel good” feeling. What was I thinking when we went to see Shutter Island last week? Was it possiblethat seeing this movie caused my youngest son to “flip out” over an open medicine cabinet the other night? In a scene where they showed dead children, I was totally calm and busy telling my son – those are not real children! Those are mannequins! It’s hard to believe I was watching and saying that, and I wasn’t feeling any anguish. Possibly it was because the movie didn’t capture at all what a dead child was about. After Jason died, one of the hardest movies I ever watched was called, “Lorenzo’s Oil.” That movie really captured the desperation of parents trying to save their sick child.

The reason I mentioned Shutter Island, was that the title came to mind called “Filter Island.”

Currently, I am adrift in the sea of life without filters. They are gone! This has definitely been getting me into trouble. I do care about it, but can’t help it. It’s as if the top of my teakettle brain has blown off. All the steam escaping has no use for a filter anymore. I kept everything in for so long and I’m just done with that!

I did go to hit some tennis balls this morning. I didn’t find quite as much humor at the workshop today. I was tired again. I missed a shot, and out it came. The F word. Unbelievable! I was truly onto something when I mentioned I have no filters. The last filter I held onto was, “You do not curse at a tennis club. Oy! I need a muzzle!

So I’m home now writing this stuff, after spending $320 at the store on assorted household items – pet food is starting to add up all right. Having a daughter is also expensive. You can only imagine the bags of items just relating to that.

I did get some help with having stuff carried in by my older son, and I was pleased to see that some microwaving had gone on before I had gotten home. He did inform me that I had left the stove fire on. That explains why my coffee was cold this morning. I lit the wrong side, and left it on! I always complain about those high gas and electric bills, because my children never remember to turn off lights (or many other things, for that matter). This will all be my fault when the big gas bill arrives.

Well, I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I need to write less mundane stuff, and get to the deeper stuff. My stomach has been fluttering. The filters are off. I am going to write about how it really, I mean how it really feels to lose a part of your flesh. I am going to do that this weekend.

© 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", dog's perspective, funeral, Humor, humor children, humor daily life, Illustration, no filters, Ordinary Life, Pets, Tennis | Leave a comment

FLYING COLORS IN AN ARTIST’S LIFE

Posted on March 16, 2010 by Judy

This picture of my mom with me was taken in 2008.

Yesterday, I managed to make time to intensely write at the crack of dawn. After breakfast, I finalized the “colored pencil over watercolor technique” on my illustration assignment. My heart was not into my art – hey, that rhymed!

I did not get a chance to visit my mother. I still have a light fixture and answering machine in my car for her. Thankfully, she has been very understanding of how busy I am. We talk frequently on the phone.

I did not speak to my father once, yesterday. That would be about the first time in probably five years. Now I realize the reason we didn’t speak was because his phone was off; I did call him! He probably needs a new cell-phone battery. Another thing I need to add to my list.

Last week, when my father had come over I had trouble concentrating on finishing some artwork while he was talking to me. I felt a wave of annoyance come over me when he said, “You really should go to bed; you’ll be tired tomorrow if you stay up too late.”

I snapped at him, “Leave me alone! I have to finish my deadline!”

As soon as the words left my mouth so help me god, I realized I sounded just like my daughter and he sounded just like me.

What a revelation about the parent/child dynamic!

“Every day is a new day”

I was tired, but elated that my painting was done. My heart was not in it at all. Somehow, it wasn’t a “fresh,” transparent watercolor that I envisioned; it turned into an acrylic painting – a lot heavier, but adequate. It was midnight when I finished scanning the painting and correcting it.

Using the computer was relaxing. With a history eraser (a Photoshop tool), there could be no mistakes. While I worked, I listened to my songs playing on the computer.

It was at that moment that my outlook suddenly felt positive. I actually wasn’t stressed at all today. In the first paragraph I wrote of the assumption that I would have stress every day!

Tomorrow meant “a new day” with endless possibilities. Instead of anticipating something bad might happen, I saw how there were good things at every turn!

I also realized how glad I was that I decided to make the time to play tennis this morning; it was a priority for me. I thought it was way too windy to play. How surprising was that it worked out, despite the wind. I ended up playing! And as windy as it was, I felt so much lighter than I have felt in such a long time – it was almost as if I was flying off that court!

10 p.m.

It was late when I finished working on my layouts. I decided I would relax and read. I have stopped reading People Magazine and the newspaper. Instead, I had an envelope on my desk for over a week. I had taken it out of Jason’s box. On it was written, “Special Sympathy Cards.” I also had three journals; they were my diaries from high school and college.

I had forgotten all about them!

How exciting! I could really dig deep into my non-traumatic past! I went to my bedroom to read. I decided I could handle reading the sympathy cards sent to me in 1992 when my five-year old son, Jason, died. I opened card after card. At least three people who had written a sympathy cards to me were now dead. That was also sad for me. Michael wasn’t home, so I was alone.

Tears began to slowly inch down my cheeks. I was wet with tears! It had been a long time since I’d cried about Jason. Some of the cards had written poignant memories of him; that felt good.

It meant he really existed!

It was interesting to me that there were cards where I didn’t know who the person was who wrote it. Several cards were for my birthday; Jason died eight days before my birthday. They were not your typical “happy” birthday cards.

My husband came in; I told him what I was doing. I mentioned there were two cards addressed to him. Before he had come in, I had choked back sobs when I saw them. There were at least fifty signatures and statements from all his coworkers. Grown men wrote such moving things to him! I asked him if he wanted to see the cards. I was right; he wasn’t interested.

I saved those cards, knowing he’d never look at them again.

It was getting late. I enjoyed browsing through my diaries. I had almost finished them. I was amazed at how little substance there was. Mostly, I had written about the many relationships with girlfriends and boyfriends, as well as the activities. Every so often, there was something truly meaningful. I marked those with post-it notes. I will transcribe them later.

Yesterday, I had found one beautiful paragraph amidst my earliest writings; it was about my friend, the guitar. I posted it with one of my favorite songs.

I still had one last journal to finish. It was the unfinished one I had started after getting married. It only had about ten pages filled in. I remembered that after getting married, life just wasn’t as exciting to write about; I missed all my girlfriends and my carefree activities.

I remembered I wrote about feeling depressed. I learned so much about myself this evening. I thought I’d be an old lady when I had time to reminisce like this.

Here I am doing it when my life is so very busy!

Despite all the current stress, I’m just in a magical phase of my life right now. Everything is so interesting for me!

A picture of me when I was nineteen.

I saw my mom today.

I made two calls for her this morning. I left a message again for her doctor. My mom wanted the feeding tube out, and was still waiting for a second opinion regarding having the screws removed due to her shoulder surgery last November.

I also called an administrator from her nursing facility. I begged this person to find an opening for my mom at the other campus where my father was. My parents needed each other very much. I knew my pleading made an impact. Once again, I felt very human and in touch with my ability to express powerful feelings. I could make a difference in my parent’s lives, as they had done with mine!

“Please! My parents’ sixtieth anniversary is coming up and my mother feels as though she will die before she’s reunited with her husband. My father is sleeping all day because he has been depressed from missing her so much!”

4:30 p.m.

There I was, lugging a box of items for my mother in her nursing facility. List of contents: answering machine and a manual, body-wash, deodorant, perfume, shampoo, dry mouth spray, toothpaste, and my dead, mother-in-law’s “most excellent” large dial watch, purse, and a magnifying glass. The moment my mom saw my box she said, “Did you bring face soap and batteries for my TV remote?”

I silently kicked myself for not thinking of those items.

And then there was that huge, lighting fixture Michael had bought for her. My mother had macular degeneration (the curse I fear of getting in my old age!). Lighting made a huge difference for her vision.

I felt excited to be going to see her after a week. For the two months she was in the hospital, I carried bricks on my entire body every moment of every day.

As I drove to see her, I sang along to my songs on tape while driving in my junky car. I was happy because I scored big.

My painting that I finished last night was approved with flying colors.

Another art performance that was successful. Will I ever banish that performance anxiety I face with each and every job; no matter how many years I continue succeeding? I just know my hypnotherapist, Connie, would suggest to me that I could “reframe” this thought in a more helpful way.

Okay, here it is, “How can I remember feeling this elation of success when I start a new job?

I spread out a lot when I work, but always organize everything afterwards.

I arrived at my mom’s nursing facility. She knew I was on my way and was in the lobby waiting expectantly for me in her wheelchair. She was scanning every person coming down that hallway.

Here are my analogies to describe her face as I walked up with the light fixture and big box of items for her:

She is in a window; I am the firewoman on a ladder saving her from the flames.

No, it is not an atomic blast of white light. It is my mother’s face.

Is it a neon sign flashing? No, my mother’s face again.

She is jumping out of her wheelchair. She is riding a bicycle next to me like we did forty years ago! Her face is shining.

I am galloping up on a while horse. I dismount and bow. I am the greatest heroine that ever lived.

I am the mother; I am the daughter. And today, I was the artist, too!

Bad List Today:

My oldest son was upset with me.

My daughter was upset with me.

My youngest son needed a consequence.

My husband looked tired and grouchy after work. He didn’t say he was upset with me, but he looked it.

Even the parrot looked grouchy; I’ve neglected him.

I received a bill from my dentist (after insurance) for $1,100

Property tax is coming due soon. It is an ungodly sum.

I am going to a funeral for my sister-in-law’s mom tomorrow. I hate funerals.

I need to order twenty-five more colored pencils; they are expensive.

Good List Today:

I found the time to write this.

I finished my job with flying colors.

I received the most amazing email from my former, college art teacher.

Even though I need to order more art supplies, it feels wonderful to know I’m using them up!

I took care of things for my mom (maybe they’ll find her an opening soon!)

My oldest son was very depressed, but I cheered him up.

I kissed my daughter’s forehead and gave her a big hug while she visited with me as I was typing this.

I ate dinner late, but still felt great. I have lost more weight. I am not filling myself up with food anymore.

My puppy still loves me. That is despite the fact that when I jumped up from my nap, I sent him flying five feet through the air with a yelp.

The parrot still gave me lots of kisses.

I played my guitar. I am a 70’s guitarist. I love music again. I played “If,” by the group Bread.

Bread is the perfect group for a sandwich generation lady!

I am going to go upstairs to cheer up my husband.

Last but not least, I’m not going to let the bad list bother me!

My landscape painting.

Tagged "sandwich generation", Aging Parents, Art and Illustration, Caregiving, creativity, Humor, humor children, humor daily life, Ordinary Life, parenting | 1 Comment

MUSIC – NOTES OF SILENCE, NOTED IN MY LIFE

Posted on March 13, 2010 by Judy

DIARY ENTRY FROM 1979 (word for word)

Well, she’s finally written again. What “deep” thoughts have prompted you to write again? Well – I don’t know. I have been more depressed and I didn’t write. I’m glad I have friends – through these months it’s carried me through. But I have a very special friend that I would like to write to.

Friend:

There have been many times where I have let you down and not done you justice. You, on the other hand, have always been there. Whenever I was down, you cheered me up. You kept me company when everyone else was busy. Through you, I’ve made many friends, and have become popular. You’ve given me confidence, comfort, and the ability to teach and learn. I love you more than anything else in the world – and remember my guitar – even if I ever let you down in my anger and frustration, and I blame you rather than myself – know that I will never desert you.

“Last Night”

Do I even think for one minute that no one else has a life busier than mine? Forget it! People much busier than myself surround me!

Last night I had a wonderful break. I went with a girlfriend to see a “chick flick.” As usual, I was running about ten minutes late. As I drove past the nursing facility where my mom was, I kicked myself. I should have squeezed in a visit, especially since I was driving right past. Of course, since I was already ten minutes late, it was hard to imagine when I could have squeezed it in.

Driving time has become the perfect time for me to take care of my phone calls. Guess whom I often need to call? My mother and my father; because they do not live together at their nursing facility, I cannot make a single call to both of them anymore.

Recently, my mother cannot call me because she has had great difficulty with dialing a telephone. It must be another example of the aging process. She keeps blaming her telephone for “not working.” One day she asked me, “Honey, do I dial the dash between the numbers?” Writing this just made me very sad.

When I spoke with my mother, she had so much anxiety! It was because she had an x-ray taken that morning and she was very worried about the results. I told her I would check for her.

I called the nursing station. The x-ray was normal. I called her back. What was interesting to me, was how much I accomplished in only five minutes. I was super daughter again. For my mom, the x-ray result was her whole existence all day long. She was relieved. I wondered why the nurses couldn’t understand and just tell her directly ASAP.

My mom said to me just before hanging up, “Honey, I know it’s early (6:45 p.m.), but I’m so exhausted from my worrying, that I’m going to bed!”

I have learned that. Worry saps me of all my energy. It has prepared me for nothing at all. I have learned that there is no point to any of it.

I thoroughly enjoyed meeting my wonderful friend for dinner. She told me that my blog had inspired her. We enjoyed seeing a movie, and the time passed quickly. Afterwards, we went to my car. I had brought my guitar, and enjoyed very much playing a few songs for my friend. It was one of those treasured moments to enjoy. I have many of those moments, lately!

While I was with my friend, my father was over at my home to tutor my oldest son. When I came home around 10:00 p.m., he was waiting for me.

He said he needed me to fix him a microwaveable pancake. Why couldn’t he use the microwave himself anymore? What has happened to this former professor?

Unfortunately, his rawhide sticks resemble something else when left on the carpet.

I was writing and it was late. I stopped at 11:30 p.m. As I came into my bedroom, I tiptoed since my husband was asleep. I noticed some brown “pieces” of something “unknown” on my bathroom carpet. It looked like one of our animals had left a present for me.

I asked my older son to “take care of it.” He examined it for me.

What was it?

My son said, “Its cat poop.” It must have stuck on one of our cat’s furry behinds. It decided to release itself onto my bathroom carpet!

At least it wasn’t parrot poop.

Speaking of which, I saw the dog licking my shower, yesterday. He licked up the parrot poop. At least one pet is helping out around here!

I didn’t even know that dogs licked showers, I thought only cats did that!

I am off now to illustrate chocolate and vanilla. (The dog has been keeping me company) The picture above of Killer was taken while I was doing photography in my backyard yesterday.

“Today”

Michael came home from work and looked happy. He sure loves his new car; the Honda CRV. I’ve decided not to borrow it any more. I don’t want to take the chance of spoiling anything.

Rosa was not happy. My dad brought over his laundry for her to do. It was becoming a regular thing. I ignored her irritation as much as possible.

I finally decided it was time to start hanging up the jackets. I have hated being tall sometimes. Everyone else in my family always say, “I can’t reach the hooks! ”The picture below is self-explanatory. (Admission: My jacket is in there, too) I do not believe for one minute that I have a maid. Rosa is an excellent cook, and I am the “shopper.” I need to enlist my children’s help, but they are either too tired, sick, or have homework (lies). HELP!

Who is going to hang all of these? Unfortunately it is the mom.

Random Thoughts:

I love shopping for my family. Why have I stopped worrying about how much everything costs? Answer: Worrying doesn’t help.

What were the chances that the shoes I just bought for my mother would need to be returned? Answer: 100% – I return everything, even if my mom wears them. Let’s hope she lives a long time and does lots of walking.

This evening while I was shopping I thought, “Oh my god, how much dog food should I stock up on? Will the dog be alive in a month?” I decided to be conservative and just get a one-month supply.

I didn’t know which one my mom wanted, so I gave her a selection to look at. I had to laugh because she decided she wanted a sandal! All that Photoshop work and I was back to square one.

Is it a dog or a shoe I stepped on?

Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Advocacy, Aging Parents, composing, creativity, diary, guitar, Humor, humor children, humor daily life, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother's illness, Music, Music grief bereavement, Ordinary Life, parenting, singing, songwriting, writing | Leave a comment

THE PRESENT IS MY GIFT

Posted on March 13, 2010 by Judy

Our two cats, Sky and Angel. Sky has kitty “irritable bowel syndrome!”

3:35 a.m.

I can’t believe I am not tired at this moment! The house is quiet. I almost stepped on those two cats sleeping right outside my bedroom door. I simply amazed by my “explosion of passion” for writing. I cannot sleep, and I cannot hold back what is happening to me.

A good friend suggested that I start a blog. This was because I was emailing all of my friends like crazy. I was writing to friends from childhood and all parts of my life. It was therapy for me, and I received such an amazing array of heartfelt support while my mom was on a respirator for two months starting last November. I didn’t think that 50-year-old women blogged!

Her suggestion had me wondering. I asked her, “What would I write about?” Her response was that I could write anything I wanted. The blog would be about me! That sounded very peculiar. I’ve been caring for so many people for such a long time. While I was living it, I never dreamed I would someday write about it. Who would want to read what I’ve written? That didn’t matter, since the therapy was truly “getting it out.” I wanted to share because I felt it would help connect me with other people. I’m surprised at the many positive things that have happened for me since I’ve begun writing this blog. I’ve discovered that my sense of humor is still intact.

I just finished writing the prior post, “Grief 101.” So it seems that therapy for post-traumatic stress was the whole purpose behind this blog. It has been a way to release the trauma that has remained inside me for many years. I am a perfectionist, and a creative person; I’ve lived my whole life with boundaries, but decided to let those go..

My own parents were the ones that truly helped me carry the bricks on my back. My mother and father felt my pain. They helped me with my challenging children. They came along on vacations to help us. My mother listened to me share with her every little joy and pain regarding her grandchildren. Gradually, starting about ten years ago, my parents began to change. It was slow and imperceptible. They started needing me more. And that began to only increase with their age. I was patient and loving, as they have always been that way with me.

As strong as I was, it was hard for me to stomach my mother’s pain and suffering. I thought I was stronger, and I thought that since losing parents was a part of life – it shouldn’t be hard for someone who has survived the death of a child. And I had survived it so well, I thought!

My good friend, Marilyn.

From hypnotherapy, I learned the simple phrase “Up and out.” Up and out simply meant that it was so much better to gets things out, rather than to let them fester. Because so many years had gone by since my son died, I was surprised that I still had so many feelings surrounding my grief. Initially, expressing my feelings through writing was so cathartic that it was like throwing up and feeling better after.

In the past, I used to stuff my feelings inside. When I became connected to my heart and I transformed, I became much more honest. I want to share a story that demonstrates what happened when I was honest about my feelings. Once a month, I planned a dinner with some wonderful women. We called ourselves “The Special Moms Group” because we had met at a weekend retreat held for mothers of children with special needs.

At one of our dinners, a mother brought her new baby to the restaurant. I had always hoped this mother would take a chance and have another child, despite her very real worries that he might have autism like his older brother. It was such a courageous and beautiful decision she had made after many years. All the other mothers were quite excited about seeing the new baby.

As everyone cooed over her baby and took turns feeding him, I shared my honest feelings. I mentioned that I was uncomfortable when it came to holding babies. The other mothers looked at me with surprise. They didn’t believe I could share something like that.

In the past, I would not have said anything. Now, as all of these mothers took a turn, I became uncomfortable because I was the only one there who didn’t hold the new baby. For the rest of the evening, I felt very disconnected. The next day, I casually confided to a mom who wasn’t at that dinner how I had felt so distant from all the other mothers that night.

This ultimately led to an “up and out” feeling for me. I pondered why I had made the statement of being so uncomfortable holding her baby. But then I explained to my friend why I thought that way. Before I had my children, I was very inexperienced and hadn’t had much exposure to infants. In my family, I was the baby. When Jason was born, I had few good memories of his infancy because he was so very sick and I was often overwhelmed. Then I reminded her that the new baby’s name was Jason.

My friend’s response was very touching. She told me that she was very sorry for how alone and isolated I felt. She also understood that it wasn’t the time to fully share where I was coming from. She said, “My dear Judy, so many memories you have of your Jason, and missing him. Having things like this trigger it all can be more than a mother’s heart should have to endure. I am so sorry for your loss, for your sorrow. Thank you for trusting me enough to share this.”

My friend’s words were very helpful for me. I thanked her because our exchange really helped me understand and “unstuff” my feelings. Even though I was disconnected because I admitted my frailty, I was absolutely thrilled to see this mom’s joy about her new baby, which she most certainly deserved.