myjourneysinsight

IN THE PAST-PART 1

Posted on August 31, 2015 by Judy

I’ve attached the silhouette image above to my song “In The Past.” This image represents a time when the future held limitless possibilities. I was 19 and my future husband was facing me on the other side. But despite some of the difficult things I’ve lived through, I look forward to my future now like I did when I was that young girl.

Click the link below to hear my song:

In the Past Acoustic 5-16-18

Never in a million years did I imagine I’d be a passionate songwriter at this time in my life. I’m definitely amazed at where I am today!

–IN THE PAST

I look back, amazed at where I am today

There were times I almost gave up

Painful memories are in my past

I just didn’t know then

I’d live with joy again

–

I look ahead, my dreams are right in front of me

What threw me down gave me my strength

I’ve kept my smile through it all

I allowed myself to feel

and learned that I could heal

–

In the past are things I could regret

What I suffered through I can’t forget

Pain that made me cry

Gave me wings to fly

–

My journey is not about where I will go

Each day, I treasure my life

I’ve left behind the pain and chains

Every tragedy didn’t imprison me

–

In the past are things I could regret

I know how love once felt

I can’t forget

The strength to say goodbye

Gave me wings to fly

–

Once I felt hopeless and so alone

Now I’m soaring – I have flown

In the past are things I could regret

I know how love once felt

I can’t forget

Pain that made me cry

gave me wings to fly

Gave me wings to fly

I look back

I felt like I had to correct my hypnotherapist. She was saying something to me about my latest song and called it “The Past.” I told her that my song was named “IN the Past.”

I explained that I wanted my song title to begin with the word “in.” But did the word “in” – INsinuate that I was living in the past instead of the present? I believed that my song was all about moving forward.

But even though I was sure about my song’s title – my lyrics kept changing and evolving. I still went ahead and recorded vocals. I had a great performance of my song, even though I’ve changed some of the lyrics since then.

My 21-year-old daughter decided to face the unknown. She courageously quit her job and was excited to take some time off to figure out what she planned to do with her life. She had saved her money after working hard without a break for two years.

Before her job ended, she asked me if I would go somewhere with her. We chose to go to a nearby beach town for a few days. Her excitement as the trip approached was infectious and I knew spending time with her would be good for me.

A week after her job ended, we took off on our little get-away. It was still a challenge for me to leave the safety and comfort of my apartment. My eyes hurt whenever I felt anxious – so I concentrated upon feeling relaxed.

This is a pen and ink drawing I did in Middle School. I have always loved having my guitar with me at the beach.

The beach town we were driving toward was very close to where my parents used to take me when I was a young girl. As my car approached the familiar exits and sights, I felt memories swelling in my head and heart. Such wonderful times I had!

I began to share some of my memories, but then my daughter said, “Gee, mom – it sounds like sometimes you’re living in the past! Let’s make some new memories instead – you and I!”

Her words made sense, but didn’t stop my memories. I squeezed her hand and understood that she wanted our time together to be special.

I became quieter, but the memories still whispered to me and I hoped she wasn’t aware.

Over our two days together, we definitely made some new sweet memories for both of us to keep. I rode a bicycle on the beach for the first time in many years. We took long walks and ate in lovely cafes. I enjoyed the present!

I decided that my memories from the past were tinged with sadness. They were reminders of how much I missed my parents and even my friend, Cheryl, who died eight years ago.

This is a view from the porch of the lovely bed and breakfast home we stayed in.

This is a view from the porch of the lovely bed and breakfast home where my daughter and I stayed.

When I came back from our lovely trip, I was very excited to finalize the arrangement for “In The Past” with George (my arranger). I recorded vocals and performed my song, but was certain I could improve the lyrics. I waited for inspiration and it finally came to me.

Originally my chorus went:

In the past there’s nothing I regret

What I suffered through I can’t forget

Things that made me cry

Gave me wings to fly

I wrote those words with confidence because I never regretted what I did for my children and later on, my parents. Taking care of their complicated needs consumed many years of my life. I never gave up, but there were times when I wondered how I kept on going.

After 31 years of marriage, I left my husband and have no regrets about my decision. I suffered with guilt for a long time because I regretted hurting him (and my children). My song uplifts me because it is about overcoming that.

As I wrote the words below, they rhymed, so I share them with humor:

I don’t regret starting a new life

or following my dream

but saying there’s nothing I regret

is far too extreme

Once again, my black and white thinking knocks me over. Of course, there are things I’ve regretted and I cannot sing a lyric line if it doesn’t feel true for me.

Here is my list of things I’ve regretted (and still do):

1. I’ve shared too much personal information with the wrong people.

2. I allowed myself to gain a lot of weight when I felt depressed about my eyes while separating from my husband.

3. I started biting my nails again a year ago.

4. I have admitted my parents’ imperfections on my blog too many times.

5. I’ve “lent” money to good friends and have felt confused and disappointed when no effort has been made to pay me back.

6. I haven’t been good at keeping secrets.

My best antidote to my above list is: I AM HUMAN! Compassion is absolutely necessary. I’m really good at doling out compassion to others and turning it upon myself is the key. Even though I’ve made mistakes (repeatedly), I know that I’m capable of changing and learning.

That led me to revise my lyric line about “there’s nothing I regret” to: “In the past, are things I don’t regret.”

suffered through

That line leaves room for me to still have regrets about other things!

I decided that another line needed changing. It was the one about “things that made me cry.”

Gaining my wings through tears and adversity was true. I decided I could sing those words for my first chorus. But a better line for me on the subsequent choruses was:

“The strength to say goodbye, gave me wings to fly.”

Here are some things I’ve said goodbye to:

1. I said goodbye to my beloved 5-year-old son when he died.

But I also said goodbye to the heartache that followed me for over two decades. I truly have healed from what I suffered through. The words “I won’t forget” is a choice I’ve made (instead of “I can’t forget). I choose to remember the pain because I celebrate my survival and joy after so many years of living through the torture of grief.

2. I said goodbye to a big home and married lifestyle. I said goodbye to the only man I ever have been with since I was 18 years old.

I currently live in a cramped apartment with my two sons. My office is my bedroom. The space is smaller than my closet was in my former large home. My apartment has only one bathroom and for 20 years my home had 4 bathrooms. So everyone here asks permission before taking a shower.

3. I said goodbye to both my parents as each of them took their last breath on earth.

4. I said goodbye to the eyesight I took for granted. It has been three years since I developed complications from cataract surgery. I remember how lovely it was when I could see clearly without pain and fogginess.

5. I said goodbye to my young children.

I look ahead with the knowledge that I am also saying goodbye to them as they become independent adults. When my daughter told me she’d like to go to Thailand, I just smiled. But I am not smiling thinking about my oldest son. He is going on a dangerous trip of driving through Mexico in a few months with my ex-husband. I have tried to discourage him – but to no avail.

I love butterflies and metaphors; above are some of my illustrations. I also have a song named “You Are My Wings. Therefore, it’s no surprise that once again wings and the metaphor of flying pops up in another one of my songs.

I want to list what “gaining wings” has meant to me:

1. Wings are a metaphor for music lifting me up. I was taken away from sorrow and have “risen above” the things that could have sunk me.

2. Wings represent following my dream. It is exciting for me to imagine flying somewhere wonderful with my music.

3. I want to spread my wings and inspire others to fly. Nothing is more beautiful for me than uplifting and comforting someone in deep grief.

4. I see wings as fearlessness. Flying could be scary, but the grief and the experience of losing those I love has only reinforced the preciousness of my life. And this increases my willingness to take some chances to do what brings me joy.

5. Wings are my freedom. It was horrible for me to watch my parents suffer and die. I grieved deeply during the time they declined. I was actually relieved when death freed them from their horrific pain. And then their deaths led to my own personal freedom because I no longer had to worry about them. I had no idea how much energy that took until it was over.

6. Wings represent transformation – just like a butterfly. Although I am very passionate about my musical journey, my artistic journey has taken me to a wonderful place also that I didn’t anticipate.

I have been very busy illustrating. In the past, I thought my career as an artist was over because my paintings were time-consuming and obsolete. It turns out that by reinventing my technique (going from being a watercolorist to a digital artist), I am now very much in demand. Last week, I created a strawberry illustration that I’m sharing below.

I want to also share a recent comment on my illustration blog that touched me deeply. http://foodartist.wordpress.com

When I was 19, I wrote a song entitled “Saying Goodbye.” I feel like the line of “the strength to say goodbye” is a follow-up to that song. 36 years after writing how hard saying goodbye was – I’ve gone to celebrating where it has taken me.

I want to share some feelings about the line of “I know how love once felt.”

I like the hopefulness of that line. It sounds like a prophecy, and perhaps someday I will fall in love again. But at this moment, it is very remote since I have not gone on a date in over 35 years.

Since that concept has me squirming, instead of romantic love I want to fly again with joy!

Unfortunately, I am not flying at this moment. But that is what I love about my song. It is my ideal.

During the saddest times in my life, I was certain that the true happiness I felt when I was young would never happen again. I was wrong! (Just like when I thought my art career was over).

Five years ago in 2010, I was very joyful when I first began to write and rediscover music. Remembering that feeling makes me confident that I will feel joyful in the same way again.

I don’t want to think in extremes of happy or sad because I’m not unhappy – but I would like to laugh more and make time for friends who understand me.

I do strive to treasure each day of my life. I am so blessed that I can make choices for myself now. One of those choices is to find ways to feel better.

At this time in my life, sometimes staying peaceful can be very challenging. My children are wonderful humans and I’m very close to all three of them. I often feel like they are taking me on non-stop roller coaster rides because I am so involved in their lives. At the age of 55, I’m not up for that ride as much as when they were younger. But it is a choice I’ve honestly made because I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I achieve peacefulness through my music and songs. When I compose something new (like this particular song), I am saturated with serenity. What a blessing it is that I have such a wonderful outlet!

To end this story, I will share some of my scrawled lyrics in progress. The words I have written below are brutally honest and very personal. It is because of writing those words that I found the insight I needed for this song. I may actually compose a new song one day with some of my heartfelt words below.

I must admit that my lyrics are like my bible. I study them and find new meanings every day.

© 2015 by Judy Unger http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. 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.

RETREAT – PART 3

Posted on August 7, 2015 by Judy

–

Link to Song Page with more about my song RETREAT

RETREAT

Retreat is where I go when I am sad

All my tears let me know

I long for you and miss you so

Retreat is my escape from the world

I withdraw and suddenly

I feel you surround me

At those times, I’d wish you were near

and then, you’d appear

But you were only in my mind,

only in my mind, you were only in my mind

Retreat is when a song soothes my soul

A melody fills my heart

reminding me we’re not apart

Retreat is where I find peacefulness

My music has begun

to be my true companion

At those times, I’d wish you were near

and then, you’d appear

but you were only in my mind

only in my mind,

you were only in my mind

only in my mind

–

This image is a way for me to depict “Melody.” She represents my musical inspiration.

–

retreat

–

verb: withdrawal, flight, give way, fall, recede, ebb, wane, retire

–

noun: haven, escape, sanctuary, isolation, solitude, hideaway, refuge

The word “retreat” is very profound for me. As a verb, I see negative meanings. As a noun, I see positive meanings. The “black and white” implications of those definitions relate well to my own personal struggle with extreme thinking.

I wrote my song “Retreat” when I was nineteen. But I can truly relate to my song at this time in my life. When I developed dry eye problems in 2012, social situations became tough for me. It’s been three years that I’ve lived with dry eye disease.

I see retreating as a way to escape from pain. I basically have surrendered to my condition. Stress causes my eyes to worsen, so I strive to keep my environment comfortable. Inner peace allows me to function, so every day my goal is to maintain serenity.

Recently, I tried a few new remedies for my eyes, but found it discouraging when every single one caused my eyes to worsen.

I get depressed when I long for the eyes I had in the past. Acceptance and appreciation for what I’m able to do despite this is where I’ve put my focus. It is not easy, but familiar – it reminds me of how I coped with grief. I have a strong belief that healing is possible. I tell myself on bad days that things will get better. I never want to give up hope.

This is my song sheet from 1980 that helped me remember my song. I did not remember the melody for the verses and composed new chords for them 31 years later.

Retreat is one of three songs of mine that have different rhythms between the verse and chorus (the other two are “You Were There” and “How We Don’t Care.”

My first arrangement of Retreat in 2011 didn’t fulfill my vision for my song. It was a challenging song to sing. I hoped one day I could revisit it and do my song justice.

A year later, I revised the lyrics further and my arranger George created a second version. This past month, I sang another new vocal for it. It is not for an album release because I plan to revise the arrangement again someday to improve the rhythm transitions.

But for now, I’m glad I didn’t abandon this song because it gave me a lot of insight!

To hide and withdraw seems negative; it represents surrendering and giving up. Yet, finding serenity within that escape is truly a beautiful concept.

When I wrote my song as a young girl, I was definitely discouraged. Yet when I retreated, I found inner peace through my music. That happened again for me because of music later in my life.

The chorus was originally written with words expressing disappointment. It went:

“At those times I’d wish you were there, but you never were – you were only in my mind.”

In 2012, I changed the chorus words ever so slightly – I wanted a more positive feeling for my song. The chorus change was also an improvement because I liked the perfect rhymes. My new words were:

At those times I’d wish you were near and then you’d appear – but you were only in my mind.”

I don’t see the lyric line of “only in my mind” as being negative. I believe thoughts are powerful; they lead to how I feel and can become my reality. What is in my mind often leads to a beautiful song and that helps heal me.

This old watercolor of mine is a good image for my song; lots of cascading turmoil often leads me to a beautiful place.

I see the concept of being surrounded (as in my song “Beside Me Always”) as a very spiritual one.

Even though I wrote Retreat at 19, when I revised it 30 years later I thought it was a prophecy (like many other of my early songs.) I wanted to envision my deceased son, Jason appearing to me. When that didn’t happen, I imagined it might be my mother. She always comforted me when I was sad and died a year after I revised my lyrics.

But the truth was that every time I sang Retreat, I didn’t picture anyone appearing. That made it very hard for me to connect to my song. So who was near to me in my mind?

Then last week when I sang a new vocal, I found my answer. My own lyrics unlocked the mystery for me with the words below:“

Retreat, is when a song can soothe my soul. A melody fills my heart, reminding me we’re not apart.”

It was “Melody!”

When I wrote the revised lyrics to Retreat in 2012, my subconscious was acknowledging that I had a guardian angel/fairy named “Melody.” Melody could also be synonymous with God. Her presence kept me safe; she offered me a blanket of musical comfort and protection from the world outside.

Melody is a shining star in my life and whispers in my ear to heal.

With my eye condition, I feel safest when I am at home. Even though that can be isolating, I seldom feel lonely. I only need to open my heart to find “Melody” if I am discouraged.

Last week, I was at my computer working on a new vocal line for Retreat. My eyes were bothering me so I stopped what I was doing and picked up my guitar to play.

It had been several months since I’d composed a new song. It felt unlikely – I did not have any new ideas or a burning desire to write anything. But as I played, I discovered a few sweet chords and felt soothed by their progression.

A week later, I shared those chords with my arranger, George. He wrote them out quickly and played them on his piano; it sounded beautiful! He asked me if I had any more chords. Surprisingly I did – but I didn’t think they were any good. George said, “Jude, you underestimate your abilities – your chords will work fine!”

Within two sessions an arrangement was completed and I was in awe that I had a new song so quickly. But my new song didn’t have any words or vocal melody!

George asked me what to name it and I said, “In The Past.”

That statement was such a beautiful one I had made at my last hypnotherapy session. Just thinking about overcoming dreadful things in my past inspired me.

I went to work and quickly wrote lyrics that would once again help me cope with any stress and sadness in my life.

The last line of the chorus announced that I found my wings. They were the ones that allowed me to escape from pain. Ironically, I had just finished another song a few months ago named “You Are My Wings.” For that song, I also allowed Melody to be my wings.

I could easily write another story about all the things in my life that I have cried over. And most of those things that happened to me are the reason I am flying now. Instead of retreating from pain or being imprisoned by it, I took off.

I wanted to see what I had already written about “Retreat” and it was an amazing coincidence when I saw some lyrics in progress attached to my story named “Retreat-Part 2.” They carried the same theme that my new song did. Retreat was a prophecy for “In The Past.”

It was even more moving for me because of what I was living with when I wrote that older story.

Link to Part 2 of this story:

Story about Retreat – Part 2

Three years ago, I was completely despondent. I was miserable in my marriage and couldn’t share my feelings with anyone. I was depressed watching my parents suffer and decline.

On “Retreat-Part 2,” I shared a picture of my father. In that same picture, my mother can be seen asleep at the table. She could barely communicate because of her dementia and oh, how I missed her. And that was the last picture I took of my father, because he died two weeks later.

It was one month after my father died, that I found the courage to tell my husband I wanted a divorce.

On that story, I wrote how I had heart palpitations from stress. And my eye problems were beginning; I wrote how I had gone to urgent care with strange symptoms and visual disturbances.

During that awful time, I lived inside my mind. My haven and refuge was with my beloved “Melody.” She took care of me and I created many soothing songs because of her. Those melodies guided me through.

Now three years later, all of the stress I was living with in Part 2 is in the past.

That was why I was able to compose my new uplifting song, which helps me heal.

Thank you, “Melody.”

Click the blue link to hear a rough recording of my new song. It is still very new but progressing nicely. I love it!

–

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2015. 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.

Posted in Healing and Hope | Tagged acoustic guitar, composing, composing music, creativity, dealing with pvd, discouraged, discouraged about healing, dry eye, dry eye disease, dry eye support, dry eye syndrome, dry eyes, eye discomfort, eye issues, eyesight adjustment, guitar, having hope, healing and grief, healing emotion, healing music, holding on to hope, hope, hope for healing, hope of healing, hopeful and optimistic, in my mind, in the past, inner peace, inspiration, inspirational, inspired, Judy Unger, Living with dry eyes, loss, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, maintaining hope, melody, Melody the fairy, Music, music and healing, music and inspiration, nature's wonderland, optimism, original songs, peaceful and inspired, positive thinking, reframing thoughts, retreat, singing, songwriting, staying hopeful, staying positive | 3 Comments

BYE, BYE, ZOMBIELAND – PART 2

Posted on July 27, 2015 by Judy

This is where I’ve been doing some new guitar recordings, as well as stories for an audio book. My engineer sits at the mixing board near the window when I am recording. Sometimes, the birds are chirping too loudly and he goes outside to shoo them away.

Click the blue link below to hear one of my recent guitar recordings:

For several years, I planned to eventually release an enormous audio book, which I recorded in 2012. I kept waiting, mostly because that audio book had a lot of problems for me.

I wondered whether I was overly preachy about healing from grief on some of my stories. My voice sounded artificial in many parts and the recordings were over-processed.

But I also felt that the two stories I recorded about the loss of my son, Jason were definitely worth sharing. My emotional rendition was something I couldn’t imagine recreating.

Now that I was close to finishing my first vocal CD, I decided I wanted to release a smaller audio book; it would include Jason’s story and a few other stories I was comfortable with. I planned to record a new and updated introduction.

For two years, I struggled with writing it. I was dealing with the deaths of both my parents and a divorce after a long marriage. I wanted to be upbeat and positive and knew it was best to give myself time to heal.

After hiring an assistant to help me two months ago, my progress toward releasing my music accelerated. Suddenly, I was filled with enthusiasm because my eyes had slightly improved. I wrote a new introduction that felt inspiring and honest.

I was ready to record it and did microphone tests in several places. I picked a place working with an engineer whom I knew from Kulak’s Woodshed (where I often performed at open mics). He did not have a “soundproof” studio. But he had a microphone that remarkably softened sibilance; that “s” sound drove me crazy on my older recordings.

It had been three years since I’d recorded spoken audio. When I began to speak my new introduction, the engineer told me I was speaking too quietly. Unfortunately, having a soft voice caused more “room noise” to enter the microphone and that included my breathing, too.

I tried to speak louder, but then I sounded like I was shouting. Eventually, I gave up worrying about it. My book was my creation and I was the vehicle. My voice would have to be good enough.

Originally, I thought I’d only record a new introduction to go along with seven older recordings. But the new introduction sounded so nice, that I decided to record five other stories. I still planned to use the two older recordings of Jason’s story.

The first story I recorded was named “I Opened The Box.” It was about how I prepared myself to write about Jason’s life and death. The last line was, “I was finally ready to write about losing my child.”

That box was in my closet and the story about opening it up after 18 years brought up many feelings. The memories from that time in my life were vivid. I felt as if I could easily picture Jason and his preschool classmates.

Before I left, the soft-spoken man who recorded me said, “I just want you to know that I cannot imagine what it must be like to lose a child. I don’t know what to say – I am so sorry.” I let him know his words were appreciated.

I wrote this poem when I was in deep grief.

It was after recording the story about opening the box, I made the decision to re-record the two stories about Jason. That way, all of the new recordings would match.

My new assistant was adamant that I record in a way that wasn’t overly emotional. I had received feedback like that before over the last few years. Too much emotion was a distraction for the listener.

But I also remembered how my story affected other people. Two good friends both told me, “Judy, when I was listening to your story, I had to pull over. It was so heart-rending that I had trouble driving.”

There were two stories about Jason. The first part was about his birth and first surgery when he was an infant. It ended before he was scheduled to have a second surgery at the age of five.

My stories were practically memorized because I’d listened to them so many times.

I managed to record those stories and there was still plenty of emotion. There were a few paragraphs where waves of emotion tugged at my voice, but I simply repeated them. It was far less than when my voice was teary on the older recordings, so I considered it to be an improvement.

When I was finished recording the second part, I came home and quietly ate lunch. I was exhausted and took a nap. In the afternoon, I was able to record vocals, which was uplifting for me. In the evening, I had dinner plans that I was looking forward to.

I wrote those words above two years after Jason died. The opera of his death played for me for well over a decade.

Below are the paragraphs leading up to where my voice was hijacked by emotion, despite my determination to speak smoothly. The phrases that caused my voice to shake are in italics.

1. When the elevator door opened, Jason’s voice piped out brightly, “Goodbye Gramma!” The mere mention of those words launched my mother into gut-wrenching sobs for years. They were Jason’s very last words on earth. The opera of Jason’s death now begins!

2. The surgeon came to see me – she was crying. I told her, “Go away!” I decided I didn’t have to listen to any more technical jargon about cardiac abnormalities every again.

3. It was soon time for me to go in and face seeing death. It would be the first dead person I had ever seen in my life. His eyes were open and unforgettable. They were lifeless and empty. Only the night before, those same eyes were intelligent – sparkling with joy and laughter. There was no question that he was gone and this was only a corpse.

4. Every year when it becomes fall, I remember that he is dead. The leaves that fall represent his body crumpling into a pile of dust. That first Halloween was less than a month after he died. All I could think of was his skeletal body in the cold ground. The scary monsters were nothing compared to what I conjured up in my mind.

5. The sympathy cards continued to arrive. The preschool took extra special care of my surviving son. He needed it. His mother had vacated the “mommy premises.”

6. Books have been written about the stages of grief. I have lived all of those stages. The numbness was bizarre. There was no sense of time. Eating, sleeping, living seemed outside the realm of what it once was. There was no purpose for anything anymore. The most difficult moment of every single day was to wake up and face what had happened. I did not want to wake up again, ever!

7. I looked at the sky, could he be there? I looked at a bird, at a butterfly; could his soul be visiting me? I strained to hear his voice again; was he calling for his mommy? There was no color in the world anywhere; there was nothing but shades of gray. It did not seem possible that it could get any worse. It did not seem possible that it could get any better. It was what it was: Empty. Sad. Excruciating. Endless!

8. Eventually, I cleaned out his room. For a bereaved parent, it is a difficult step to face. I spent many days crying on his bed, holding one of his shirts against my cheek. I had to face going to other children’s birthday parties with my living children. I had to walk through the market and not cry when I saw the food I used to buy for him. I had to learn how to live while seeing children his age continue to grow up. I had to accept that he would never grow up. He would never outlive me. He would never be anything but what he was.

Below is a link to the story that carries much of the material I recorded:

#33 JASON MARK, HE LEFT HIS MARK

I wrote a song named “Every Season” in 2011 and it was the first new song I composed after over 30 years. So discovering this plaque was very touching for me. Jason was memorialized with the line of: “A child of all seasons.”

I showered and looked forward to seeing my friends for dinner. As I drove, I listened to my other new audio stories about music, which were very upbeat unlike the story I had recorded in the morning.

I picked up one of my friends and we met our other two friends at a restaurant nearby. We all hugged and had a lot of catching up to do. I liked listening to my friends talk about things going on with them. I was fairly quiet.

My passion for music and illustration work kept me isolated. I knew it was really good for me to be with them. I blinked back the annoying fog in my eyes and noticed that they weren’t hurting as much as they usually did. I was grateful for that.

We all finished eating and it was soon time to go home. As the other women were going over the check, I excused myself to go to the restroom.

As I left the table, I marveled that my heart felt light. Being with my friends really lifted my spirits. I was walking back from the restroom when I heard a voice call my name. It was coming from a table on the other side of the restaurant.

I walked closer and the woman at the end of the table reached out her hands to me. With an animated voice she said, “Judy, do you remember me? It’s Tamara!”

I looked at her closely and recognition began to grow. I was in shock for a moment as the realization hit me. I said, “Yes! Your daughter was in Jason’s preschool class and we were in the same “Mommy and Me” class, too.”

Tamara smiled warmly and said, “Yes, and she’s right here next to me. This is Ashley. And let me introduce you to her husband.” A beautiful couple beamed at me.

I remembered this mother and her child. Tamara was at Jason’s funeral and had brought a dinner over to my house a week later. The memory was especially clear because of the stories I’d recorded over the past week – how eerie that was!

Tamara was kind and warm. She squeezed my hand and her eyes widened as she said, “You know, I have never forgotten Jason and his adorable freckled face. Whenever I hear the song that was played at his funeral, I think of him.” That song (The Lion Sleeps Tonight) was Jason’s favorite one.

I smiled at Tamara and said, “I’m so touched that you remember him; thank you for sharing that with me.”

Yes, Jason would have been 28 years old if he had lived but he was frozen in time at the age of five. I noticed that my heart wasn’t aching as I looked at Tamara and her beautiful grown up daughter. It demonstrated to me how the overwhelming grief that had ruled my life for decades was truly gone.

I told Tamara how I had embraced music five years ago. Jason was a gift and returned to my life in a different way. I carried him in my songs and in my heart. I had healed.

Tamara said, “I always wondered what happened to you. I am so glad to see you looking this way – radiant and joyful.”

As I walked back to join my friends, I felt quite inspired. My past, present and future swirled around me such a beautiful way!

I am in the top center spotlight with Jason, The red arrow points to Tamara and her daughter, Ashley.

Link to Part 1 of this story: #23 BYE, BYE ZOMBIELAND – PART 1

In 2010 when I first began writing this blog, I also wrote about the experience of meeting another mother from Jason’s preschool class 18 years later in a market.

Zombieland represented the many years I plodded through life in a way that was “deadened.” Even though I was healing when I wrote the first part of this story, I really had no idea what was ahead for me. How beautiful it is for me to write a second part to that story with the insights I have five years later.

Zombieland is even farther behind me now because I completely turned my life around. I am alive!

And very grateful for every minute of my life.

Posted in Grief Stories | Tagged acknowledging grief, adjusting from grief, Audio book recording, changing your life, child's death, childhood friendship, compassionate friends, creativity, death, death of a child, Empathy and Grief, finding happiness after losing a child, Friendship, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, happiness after death of a child, healing and grief, healing from grief, hope, hope for healing, hope of healing, inspiration, is happiness possible after losing a child, Judy Unger, loss, loss of a child, optimism, optimism after loss, Ordinary Life, overcoming grief, staying positive, surviving grief, zombieland | 3 Comments

I AM HUMAN

Posted on July 18, 2015 by Judy

This is not an illustration of a pear – it’s a trio!

Two weeks ago, I completed a large assignment of 21 fruit and vegetable illustrations. It took me about 3 weeks, instead of the month that I estimated it would take.

I couldn’t believe that I received another new assignment the day after I finished that large project. My above illustration of pears was done a few days ago; it is one of 4 new illustrations I’m working on for Tillamook Dairy Company.

This is my layout. The final painting had smoother lighting and coloration. The leaf on the left was removed.

Now I feel compelled to share some puns about pears.

My love for pears is appearent. And I’m also a pearant. I’d love to go to Pearis. Perhaps I should write a pearable about pears.

I’d better move onto another pearagraph because I’m sounding like a pearrot.

Okay, those weren’t very good puns. I’m a bad girl.

This leads me into what I really want to write about – Good girl vs. bad girl syndrome.

For me, that syndrome represents an extreme or “black and white” way of thinking. Ridding my life of judgment and criticism has been my goal now for the last 3 years. Yet it’s hard to wipe out associations that are lodged in my subconscious because of what I heard so often when I was growing up.

“Good girls never accept a date at the last minute. Good girls don’t travel. Good girls don’t live on their own before marriage. Good girls are virgins.”

Seeing pictures of myself in the apartment where I’m now living is like time travel. This year, I replaced the black and white floor and love the new look. I’m wondering why I have such a scrunched up expression in this picture with my dad. I’m holding a ruler – perhaps I had an art project back then that I was working on!

I learned early on what I needed to do to be a “good girl.” I was unable to express myself. And I lived with denial in order to keep any angry feelings shoved down.

Lately, there are things my former husband has done that upset me greatly. But because of our children, I won’t share any details on my blog about it.

I know that I haven’t been dealing with it in a healthy way because of obvious clues. I made an emergency visit to my dentist because I was suffering with intense jaw pain. It was from clenching my teeth and that was something new. I have been biting the nails on my left hand (not on the right, because I use that hand to pluck my guitar strings). And it’s been really hard for me to stay on track with my eating; for several months I’ve been working hard to lose weight.

If I were to write a Princess and the Dragon story using metaphors, I would describe my situation as one where I could feel the dragon breathing fire and smoke in my doorway. Of course, I pretended that nothing was happening most of the time even though I was choking.

Once again, I’m wondering what my expression is about in this photo. It looks like I’m thinking about my pet lizard.

Once again, I’m wondering what my expression is about in this photo taken on my patio with my mom. It looks like I’m thinking about my pet lizard.

A few weeks ago, I hoped that I’d find some tools to help me during my hypnotherapy session.

I told my therapist, Connie, how frustrating it was to flip back and forth between being “the bad one” and “the good one.” I wanted to find another way to think about all of this but I couldn’t find any middle ground and it was frustrating.

I was being plagued by “good girl/bad girl syndrome!”

I had expended every ounce of my energy into loving and supporting all three of my children since my separation. In the last three years, I witnessed their spectacular growth and was certain that my involvement made the difference. That made me “the good one.”

As I wrote on my last post about my song “The Door,” when I ended my marriage I had a lot of guilt. I felt like I was a traitor who shocked my husband when I ended our marriage. I received a lovely comment this past week. The words from a dear blogger friend, Sandra Callahan really uplifted me:

I am at a loss for words when I read your interpretation of the events surrounding your “awakening.” You are so gifted and talented! It is sad your ex did not appreciate these gifts as well as your sharp wit and humor. It is sad that he chooses to make choices that have a negative impact on those who deserve his love and protection. If anyone was a “traitor” in this sad story it is he. It is hard for me to think someone so full of joy and laughter endured so many years of heartbreak.

Whatever heartbreak I’ve endured is in the past and my joy is because I am hopeful that it is behind me now.

I was hopeful that perhaps while I was under hypnosis I would gain some insight. I heard Connie’s voice in the distance and quickly drifted off.

After a few minutes, I spoke aloud to Connie with my eyes closed. I told her that nothing seemed to come to me that could replace the good girl/bad girl theme. I concentrated, but still I drew a blank.

Then I said aloud, “I know I’m a devoted mom so I wonder why I feel so badly. I’m not trying to make my ex look bad, but some of his actions toward our children make me so angry. I am powerless and alone with my thoughts. I cannot express my anger because it is inappropriate for my children to know about it. Sometimes when they ask me what is wrong, it seeps out and I say things I wish I hadn’t.”

I said tearfully, “I’m only human!”

At that moment, I realized that I had hit upon something. Being human . . .

That was such a beautiful alternative. I had found a way to replace “black and white!”

Being human gave me permission to feel upset and to make mistakes. Being human helped me understand that it wasn’t about being “bad;” it wasn’t an excuse either. It helped to explain my reactions when I was under tremendous pressure.

Before our session ended I blurted out, “It’s incredible to know how much my ex hates me after spending 31 years together!”

Connie wrote something down and then said sweetly, “That’s a story you could hold onto. How does it feel when you think of it that way?”

I grinned and knew the answer to that. I loved my therapist and she was waiting for me to come up with a replacement story. Out it came with the words of: “It’s in the past!”

Connie’s voice was enthused. “Yes, tell me more about that!”

I said, “Just like grief – I remember many sad and horrible things. But when it’s in the past, it reminds me of how far I’ve come – how I’m beyond the pain and living in a much better place.”

I left our session with a huge smile. I was thinking of all the things in my past that were behind me now. And then I started thinking about all the things I had to look forward to.

Perhaps there were things I still had to deal with related to “the dragon.” My plan was to vent more to friends so as not to feel overwhelmed by anger when I was around my children. Friends sure made a difference.

This picture was taken this past Mother’s Day. It was the best one I ever experienced, no doubt about that.

My children are more important than anything else in the world to me. I am always demonstrating how much I love them and revel in their accomplishments. I do try to avoid writing about them, but I am going to share a few details because I’m a proud mom.

This past week, my 18-year-old son began learning to drive. I signed him up for a few private lessons and he drove with me on a small errand yesterday. Then today, I courageously allowed him to go on the freeway. Sharing all of this with him was very ~~nerve wracking~~ exciting. Thankfully, he stayed cool and collected even though I was very ~~hysterical~~ serious.

On top of that, a few weeks ago he began working as a volunteer at Kulak’s Woodshed where I perform regularly. He is very well liked and appreciated – (On my Facebook music page, he can be seen setting up my microphone for a recent video performance.) Since summer began, I’ve nagged him to get a job. Volunteering was a backup plan that I hope he’ll continue doing. Well today he landed his first job! He will be working at a nearby movie theatre. I am bursting with pride and can hardly contain my joy.

My daughter and I are extremely close. Recently, she’s made many changes to her life. I try very hard to refrain from being critical or judgmental. I’ve been rewarded because she shares so many personal things with me. I always encourage her with the statement of, “Honey, I know you will figure things out and do what is best for you.” I am so proud of her courage. Recently, she told me she wants to travel somewhere with me. We are both thinking about where we will go.

My oldest son amazed me this week. He reached out and called his sister so they could “go bowling and hang out.” They had a great time together. The next day, he went out of his way to fix a TV someone was discarding. He wanted to give it to his sister. He spent over $100 of his own money and then drove over to her apartment with a friend to install it. Just thinking about his thoughtfulness chokes me up.

I’m glad I could update my blog. More is coming. I have been in a phase of productivity that is astonishing. On top of working as an illustrator, I’ve accomplished more in the last two months than I have in two years with my music and audio projects. It’s all because I’ve hired an assistant to help me.

I feel blessed. And I am very human!