myjourneysinsight

TENNIS – THE THREAD IN THE FABRIC OF MY LIFE

Posted on February 21, 2010 by Judy

1997 USTA Sectionals Northridge Tennis Club Team.

Eleanor Harbula was my first tennis teacher in Sylmar. I am also listed in this article. This is amazing; the lady I played in the article was named Leah and she was the tennis instructor at the park for my children. I didn’t realize the connection until I scanned this article!

Sympathy card from my first tennis teacher, Ellie.

PART ONE

“The change began because of my isolation”

This title should actually be, “Tennis is the thread in the fabric of my adult life.” I was married at the age of 21, and I experienced a huge change in my life. Close friends, musical joy, and the excitement that a wedding can bring had surrounded me. The change began due to the isolation of working alone at home. I was pursuing an illustration career from the ground up. I was definitely not interested in having any children to burden myself with, and although that might have left me with a feeling of “freedom,” I was extremely dedicated and responsible about my work. That was also a significant change from living at home with my parents, and never being on my own until I was married.

I became depressed when I was 23, and it was my own mother that encouraged me to find some other interests. She suggested tennis as a way for me to get myself out of the house. I was living in Sylmar at the time, and had seen an ad for lessons at a public park. I called the instructor, whose name was Ellie and took lessons for a while. Then I played after my lessons at the park where I started meeting lots of tennis players.

I played every weekend, and while I was there I met a wonderful Romanian couple that joined me. We had so many wonderful games, and we became good friends. My husband tried to play, but didn’t seem to enjoy it – I was probably far too competitive for him.

The main thing was that my loneliness subsided and my friendship with the Romanian family continued even after I moved away from Sylmar. Occasionally, I would still drive out to play with Magda and Mat, my Romanian friends. I still can remember the day when I played with Magda and her leg unexplainably became numb. Her later diagnosis with MS was devastating, and it was hard for me to understand how someone that has had such a difficult life could still be so positive. Her stories of what she lived through while in Romania were chilling. We’ve only seen each other once in the last five years, but her whole family is so special to me, and mine to hers. She began using a computer a long time before I did and I know it has certainly kept us connected.

When I moved to Granada Hills from Sylmar, I drove to play quite often at a facility named “The Racquet Center.” There was a drop in “round robin” that I enjoyed regularly. I met a whole, new group of friends. One in particular left her mark on me. Her name was Linda. Linda was on a USTA team that I was on, and became very ill suddenly. She was diagnosed with Stage 4 Ovarian cancer.

She bravely went through treatments, lost her hair, but continued to play tennis through it all. I believe she lived about eight years after her initial diagnosis. She had many problems with her teenage son, and confided so much in me. I can still hear her voice when I play sometimes; she used to say, “Burn that serve in!”

Linda was very caring toward me when Jason died. Her terminal stage was very unsettling for me, as I had never had anyone close to me going through the dying process other than Jason. Toward the end she was in a lot of pain, and her yellow pallor from jaundice was something I can never forget.

I saw her the day before she died, when no one was “supposed to visit.” I was discouraged from visiting, and told she was completely “out of it.” I went in to see her anyway, and she opened her eyes and smiled at me. I told her I’d look out for her mom, because I knew what it was like to be a bereaved parent. Linda smiled, nodded at me, and said, “thank you.” After that, I called her mother every year on Linda’s birthday, death anniversary, and on Mother’s Day. I did that for almost fifteen years, until one day the phone number had been changed. I still wonder where her mother moved. It gave Linda’s mother great pleasure to share with me that Linda’s son went on to become a school teacher. Linda had so much stress to contend with, between her son and her illness. It was too bad she didn’t live to know that her son had “straightened out.” She knew in her heart that he acted out due to her illness.

I played one of my original songs at Linda’s funeral. I was so honored to be able to do that. A week after her death, her husband called me and asked if I would like her tennis clothes, or any of her clothes. I brought a huge trash bag and filled it up; I shared some clothes with another one of Linda’s friends. I also took a pair of shoes, tennis undies, and the outfit Linda had worn for her son’s Bar Mitzvah. I wore the shoes until the soles fell off. I still wear some of her things, and I think about her often when I play. Below is a link to a later story that I wrote about Linda:

WHEN YOU’VE LEFT, YOU’LL STILL BE WITH ME

Revlon Run/Walk 1996 in Memory of Linda.

Sympathy Card from Linda. Clicking on this makes it larger.

PART TWO

“In grief, we have both opened up doors within our heart.”

These four parts about tennis alternate between the past and the present. If Part 1 was about when my love for tennis started, then Part 2 is a logical transition to what transpired during the past month with my very first “tennis friend.”

Due to her MS, Magda last played tennis probably seventeen years ago. I visited Magda, her husband, Mat, and her stepson, wife, and grandson in Palmdale a few years ago. Her stepson used to assist my husband, Mike, when he was self-employed for a brief period.

Before my mom’s illness, we did have occasional email updates to each other, but not too often. Mostly, I have always been sad about the progression of her illness. We never lost touch from our tennis playing days back when I was 24!

Recently, when my mom was seriously ill, I shared updates about my mom’s condition with Magda. Her message came to me as a result of sharing pictures of my dead child. That happened because my trauma was reignited when my mother was very ill.

On Feb 1, 2010, Magda wrote:

JUDY IT IS A PLEASURE TO SEE ALL THE PICTURES AND THANK YOU FOR SHARING …JUDY WE’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR 23-24 YEARS AND I LIKED YOU FROM THE FIRST MINUTE …YOU DIDN’T CARE ABOUT MY FOREIGN ACCENT AND POOR ENGLISH LANGUAGE.

YOU INVITED ME TO THE BABY SHOWER, MY FIRST ONE EVER AND THE ONLY ONE….JASON, MY LITTLE ANGEL WAS BORN AND I REMEMBER THE DIFFICULT TIME YOU HAD FEEDING HIM…I WAS BABY SAT HIM ONCE.

I REMEMBER HIS LAST BIRTHDAY IN GRANADA HILLS …AND THE WORST PHONE CALL…JASON!!!!.. HE WAS SO BRAVE BEFORE HIS SURGERY! I COULD NOT STOP CRYING FOR A LONG TIME…AND NOW I HAVE TEARS WHEN I REMEMBER THAT MOMENT…I HEAR HIS SWEET VOICE IN MY EARS, AS I HAVE FOR YEARS…AND I CAN STILL SEE HIS ANGEL FACE WITH FRECKLES …I ATTENDED THE FUNERAL AND LISTENED TO YOUR RECORDED VOICE, BUT WATCHING THE LITTLE CASKET I CRIED NON STOP …I LEFT… I COULD NOT WATCH THE LAST PART…

I DON’T KNOW WHY ALL OF THIS CAME TO MY MIND…I LOST A SON 10 DAYS AFTER HIS BIRTH (premature) IN THE HOSPITAL THEY NEVER LET ME TO HOLD HIM…. I COULDN’T TALK WITH ANYBODY AND I JUST PRAYED TO GOD TO HELP ME AND HE DID. AND FROM THAT TIME I ALWAYS ASK HIM FOR HELP… SO MAYBE THIS IS A REASON I AM SO SENSITIVE AND I LOVE THE KIDS SO MUCH…YOU ARE A WONDERFUL MOM AND GOD GAVE YOU THESE 3 SPECIAL KIDS…

JUDY …IN JASON’S PICTURE FROM THE HOSPITAL, HE WAS STILL SMILING TO HIS MOM …WITH ALL THE TUBES ON HIS LITTLE CHEST.

WHAT I NOTICE, IS GOD TOOK FROM US LITTLE ANGELS WHO COULD HAVE SUFFERED MORE (living with heart problems)…AND GAVE US MORE COMPASSION AND LOVE FOR OTHERS… SO MUCH IS NEEDED IN THIS CRAZY WORLD WE LIVE IN…

JUDY, KEEP SMILING…ALL YOUR PICTURES ARE LIT BY YOUR SMILE…IT IS HARD FOR ME TO FIND THE WORDS TO SAY HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR HONESTY, UNDERSTANDING, AND LOVE TO EVERYBODY…KEEP IN TOUCH…. HUG TO YOUR MOM…

MY LOVE TO ALL OF YOU, MAGDA

P.S. (Unfortunately, I type w/ one hand only because my left one doesn’t move too much)

On February 2, 2010, Judy Unger wrote:

Dearest, dearest Magda,

As I read your message over and over, each time I am sobbing and crying fresh tears. What can I say? I realize now that my mom’s illness has brought me here. Of course, it made sense that my trauma would be re-ignited by seeing all the tubes and machines. Also her inability to eat triggered something primitive within me, it brought back all the feeding problems that I had with Jason.

In order to go on after such a loss, we certainly change. It is so true about you being sensitive and loving kids so much. Your beautiful grandchildren are benefiting from receiving your endless, wellspring of love and devotion. I’ve been a zombie, because although I thought I was a champion through the grief process, I had to continue to be a champion for my childrens’ issues. That left me no time to grieve over that!

I get choked up remembering how you told me you didn’t come into the funeral room, but waited in the lobby. You were too upset after seeing his little casket. I only recently remembered that I actually tape recorded my eulogy. There was no way I could get up there to read it on that sad day!

It has been 18 years since Jason died, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. When my mother-in-law died recently, I came across his little lunchbox that she saved. It was full of pictures and even a pacifier. She once told me she was looking forward to seeing him again when she died. Lately, I think about that, too.

Your words about his freckle face create tears because sometimes I can’t believe he was real. To know that you still remember him – his voice, his face – it means so much! Sometimes I feel like I’m losing him again, because the memories start to fade. But that is protection from the rawness that I used to feel. I used to cry every, single day for years and years, and I haven’t been able to cry for a very, long time. I think this morning, it was a good thing I did.

If there were a wish I could make on this earth, it would be for you to have held your little son (and of course, that he would have lived!) He will always be a part of you, even though you never saw him. That is why you have written this heartfelt message to me – channeling the sensitivity you have through him.

In grief, we have both opened up doors within our heart.

Thank you for bringing Jason back to me for a little while this morning. I love you so much!

Love, Judy

© 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 death of a friend, friend dies, Friendship, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, infant loss, loss of a close friend, loss of a friend, MS, Multiple Sclerosis, Romania oppression, stillbirth, Tennis, tennis and friendship | 3 Comments

REDISCOVERING WHAT I LOVE TO DO – PART 1

Posted on February 19, 2010 by Judy

I was sixteen years old when I fell in love with the guitar.

FAREWELL INSTRUMENTAL – Cassette recording 1980

Clicking the blue links above will play audio recordings from a thirty-year-old cassette tape. I no longer remember the fingerings. If I choose to, I could figure them out again.

This morning, I put on the radio after driving carpool.

The radio announcer said, “Someone today has sold more records than the Beach Boys, Elvis, and the Beatles combined!” Well, that had my curiosity going. The answer was Diane Warren. Awe, Diane! I remember reading about her and her composing place that she called “her cave.” I wanted to learn more about her. I felt inspired to know there was such a successful woman songwriter. It went on my list to learn more about her; I plan to Google her name later.

I found that announcement an interesting coincidence, since I have been hearing my own music running through my head so much more, lately. I’ve noticed that I feel so much more passion as I play my guitar, too. It’s a fabulous feeling. I am going to take that moment, of hearing about such a successful songwriter as a positive sign for me.

Message from Joni the next day:

Judy,

The song Jud shared with us reminded me more of a poem. Very focused, lots of visual imagery and a basic simple topic that developed into an explosion of feeling and emotion; combined with the production truly was something. Agree? You could do it too. I know your writing; you can do it.

Love, Joni

It was strange today to be “back on earth.” I’ve been listening in my car to my songs, and sometimes I feel that the instrumental ones might be fun to relearn someday. My technical virtuosity was okay, although I have a few mistakes on my cassette recording.

These instrumental songs that I have are different. One, which is entitled “Farewell,” actually did have lyrics that were sung with it. However, I’ve always just liked the guitar melody without any singing.

The other two songs are very dissonant. Their sound reminds me of how I’d feel sitting out and looking at rain or a waterfall coming down.

I’d like to reply to Joni’s lovely message. I wonder if I could inspire myself to change/rewrite a more contemporary version of any of my songs. Even the thought of something completely, brand-new is hard for me to envision. Of course, I have only been playing again for three weeks. I could easily see myself slip back into not playing again.

The moms in my “Special Mom’s Group,” remember well how I brought my guitar when we first all met at a retreat entitled, “Healing the Mother’s Heart.” My fingers were in agony after playing for hours without any preparation. However, other than infrequent diversions, I could go for years without ever playing.

Reading that message again, it hit me that Jud’s song was heavy on production and certainly relied on a truly fabulous singer. Well, I don’t have that! Do I want to seek that? I’m not sure at all.

The greatest thing that I am learning is what I am capable of. I can feel passion for things that are joyful again, and I know in my heart that I could write a contemporary song if I chose to. I also can paint if I choose to, because recently I had a project that required me to pick up a paintbrush again after two years. I do love the computer, though!

At the same time, as I am rediscovering what I love to do, I am also writing about past events that were so difficult I can hardly believe I survived them.

Joni and I – we both loved the outdoors, but I was more adventurous.

Joni and I at the snow – We went on the Palm Springs Aerial Tramway many times.

Tagged acoustic guitar, classical guitar, composing, Friendship, guitar, Music, original compositions, original songs, singing, songs, songwriting | Leave a comment

CAPABLE SONGWRITER

Posted on February 19, 2010 by Judy

Judy & Joni – Friends for 45 years!

“Capable songwriter, just not contemporary”

I started writing this post while my friend, Joni, was fixing me lunch. I had to take two Excedrin first. Joni cooked me some lunch, and treated me like royalty.

What am I feeling after a big meeting with an established songwriter/producer, Jud Friedman? I can certainly say that “time stood still” today. For a brief moment, I actually lived for something that quickly went by – and then I had to figure out the rest of my life. That being said, I think I feel a combination of things. I’ll be honest, I was a little deflated that I didn’t sign a million dollar contract. My husband didn’t help that one, because when I called him afterwards, he asked me if he was able to quit his job! Everything that I was told today, I intuitively knew already – so there were really no surprises.

What was told? Well, that the music business is very difficult to “break into.” Duh! That makes sense. Especially, now that there are so many software programs that can make almost anything sound good. I was also told that it is not easy to make any money, and it will cost money to make a great demo. And with file sharing, there isn’t even that much money to be made. I already knew that, too.

Okay, so here is the good part. His compliment was, “You understand lyrics, and musically your work is complex and beautiful. You have far more than is needed, actually.” He said that my songs are definitely dated (70’s), but he also felt that I would be quite capable of writing something more contemporary. Although he appreciated my musicality, he said on a disk I wouldn’t get far with my type of music.

I performed only four songs; he asked me to pick my best. I felt that I did an adequate job, considering how many years it has been since I’ve performed. He made me feel comfortable since his first words were, “Most performers would say it was harder to play in a room like this, than on a stage in front of far more people.”

I was fascinated as he explained how today’s music is different. He said that my songs were “linear,” moving along in a certain flow. The more contemporary songs use fewer chords, and build on it.

He picked up a guitar and went on to play a riff from my song called “You Are My Wings.” He sang my chorus, and expanded the last line. He told me to totally eliminate my verse, and make the chorus the new verse. He used a single line to create a new chorus, with a lot of repetition. It was all so interesting!

He further clarified his explanation of how to change my song by demonstrating with one of his own songs. It was inspiring. He shared with Joni and I his most recent song. His lyrics were incredibly heartfelt and poignant; it was a love song that talked about not being hurt by your lover and of being fragile.

After putting the lyrics up on his computer, he then played the demo. It was enough to knock your socks off. I felt so honored that he shared it. I’m sure it will end up being another Oscar nominated song. Joni and I looked at each other and we were simply blown away.

He never gave any cues that it was time for me to leave. I just decided that I had taken up enough of his precious time, and shook his hand. He said he would be glad to listen to anything I might rework and share with him.

This picture is of Jud Friedman and me. Jud is an established music producer and this picture was taken two years later. I made another appointment with him to share my progress.

Am I going to do something new, something contemporary? That’s something I’m not sure of. I love what I’m doing now, and it’s certainly wonderful for me to make time for myself. However, this whole “career change” issue is one that I am often struggling with, and I would rather not add any further pressure on myself. I’m actually not sure that I want to rework any of my songs. I might never even write another song. However, someday I would love to record a demo, if only to know how it might sound to have all those extra touches. The fact that it is a matter of expense doesn’t faze me. I’ll know when that time comes.

I am especially appreciative of my childhood friend, Joni. While typing in her den, I lamented that we hadn’t taken a picture with Jud! She said we could “go back,” but instead we did the next best thing; her son took a picture of us both on her front porch. She did cook me a fabulous lunch.

I can count on my fingers the times we’ve been together since high school. Years and years have gone by without our seeing or speaking with each other. Today was an absolutely special time to connect once again with my childhood buddy and form a fantastic memory!

Tagged acoustic guitar, childhood friendship, composing, creativity, Friendship, guitar, Music, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting | Leave a comment

RECONNECTING & REMEMBERING

Posted on February 18, 2010 by Judy

Three, bereaved mothers and their subsequent babies.

Katie with my youngest son

“RECONNECTING AND REMEMBERING WHEN I DECIDED TO HAVE MY FOURTH CHILD”

–

Message that I received today:

Dear Judy,

Thank you for sending me your blog. I’m sorry to hear this past year has been such a tragic one with your parents. I’m happy that you have found an outlet in your writing and music. We all deserve to take a break sometimes. I hope you find great relief on your road to rediscovery. I look forward to reading more from you.

Lori

Hi Lori, I very much appreciate that you responded to my sharing this blog with you! I guess writing sometimes involves reliving painful parts of our lives; there are definitely things I’d rather not relive, but I am writing anyway. I wonder if it might be helpful for someone else, but certainly I am finding that sharing is helpful for me!

After losing Jason at age five, I was glad that I had found Compassionate Friends. There was no therapist that could help me, and I needed someone that could understand the depth of that particular pain – of losing a child. Even bereaved parents that were very farther along in the grieving process couldn’t help me, because I didn’t believe they actually survived the pain. So the only help that I found was by holding hands with those suffering alongside of me.

How could you know how fresh it still was for me when I came to your house after Matthew died? You told me later on that two years into your loss was really nothing, and that was exactly where I was when I came to see you. My cousin, Dorothy (who is also your aunt), called me to ask if I could help you. Your beloved son had a heart defect, and had just suddenly dropped dead while playing with his brother in the living room. Well, I showed up that night and tried to offer whatever comfort I could. We had a close connection for quite awhile, but honestly, when I started dealing with raising my children and caring for my parents. We lost touch.

Both of our sons were very much affected by losing their sibling. I think their closeness was very helpful at the time. And then of course, you became pregnant again not long after the loss – something I had also done when I became pregnant with Mandy one month after Jason died. I remember when you told me you were pregnant, and guess what?

It was at that moment that I decided to have my fourth child!

The following month I became pregnant with Reggie. I decided that all of my convincing reasons to have another child (which you and I had talked about), applied to me as well. When Allison, from CP joined us with her pregnancy, we made quite a trio! I still have pictures of all our babies together.

I think affirming a new life, also allowed me to sever the tight connection I had with bereavement and Compassionate Friends. I don’t know how I was able to make those cold calls to newly bereaved parents, and certainly reaching out to you was only possible because the window of time when my cousin called me was simply “meant to be.”

I must say I was fortunate that Becky took over the reins of the organization. Lori, I remember how I would see you at the holiday, candle-lighting ceremony. Ironically, tomorrow when I see this music producer, my favorite song called “Beside Me Always” is the one I would play every year at that ceremony. I eventually stopped going every year when I realized that I preferred to light the Hanukah candles with my living children instead; I knew Jason would have understood that. I’d love to hear more of how things are going for you.

Love, Judy

On Feb 23, 2010, Lori wrote:

Judy,

Thanks for posting that beautiful picture of Katie and Reggie. I love the one also of the three of us with our babies. I enjoyed reading your blog. It brought back so many memories. I remember you were with me when I took my pregnancy test and it was positive! I, like you, was so worried any future children would have a heart defect. I refused to get attached to Katie, while I was pregnant with her, until I knew for sure she was healthy.

I understand why we had lost touch. You must have been and still are so overwhelmed. It now seems like a lifetime ago that our children were so small. I have a niece and nephew that are both 16, the same age Matthew would have been. There is always a pull on my heart when I spend time with them. It’s a funny thing, grief. Just when you think your doing okay the smallest thing can bring the pain crashing back.

Lori

On Feb 24, 2010, Judy wrote:

Hi Lori,

I can’t tell you what your message meant to me. We were so close through our bereavement (remember, I was only two years in – and certainly no “expert,” even though you thought I was). I never did share with you what was going on, and that was the way I “used to be.” I figured I could just handle everything myself, and I did it at the expense of my heart.

I think I’ve moved forward in my grief with Jason, but honestly, I am still grieving the unfairness of what I have had to go through with my living children, as well. But as soon as I write this, I start to remember how fortunate I have been with all of them – we both know how much worse it could be.

I need to continue moving forward, which I am. I realize that I especially am now dealing with my elderly parents on top of everything else! As I started out my blog stating, “It is WAY TOO MUCH!”

But that is also what life is about, and I am realizing how much better it is not to feel that you are all alone. It must sound funny coming from someone that has been married thirty years, but men and women are definitely different in how they cope with grief. But you and I already know that!

Thanks for sharing.

Love, Judy