myjourneysinsight

IN EVERY SMILE – PART 1

Posted on February 20, 2015 by Judy

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Click the blue links below to hear my song:

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In Every Smile Acoustic 6-4-18

Link to more about this song: IN EVERY SMILE

From the time I was young, I have always loved to smile.

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IN EVERY SMILE

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One day I’ll be gone, but love cannot leave

I’ll be right there beside you, can you believe?

if you’re crying ‘cause you miss me

and feel you’ve lost your way

You know what I’d say . . .

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See me in every smile; it’s okay to cry awhile

But smiling can lift you up

Feel me with love you share; in your heart I’m there

I’m not really gone when my love lives on

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Remember the warmth, your heart next to mine

I’ll still be hugging you in warm sunshine

When storm clouds overtake you

and everything seems gray

You know what I’d say . . .

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See me in every smile; it’s okay to cry awhile

But laughter can lift you up

Feel me with every touch; I loved you so much

I’m not really gone when my love lives on

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You might be scared and think you’re alone

Let my light surround you, the love you’ve known

From the moment I first held you until I had to go,

I hope you know

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See me in every smile; it’s okay to cry awhile

But my love can lift you up

Feel me with love you share; in your heart I’m there

I’m not really gone when my love lives on

When my love lives on

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Music captivates me. Except for times of great emotional upheaval – I usually don’t feel like writing lyrics. But when music and melodies grab my heart, I become inspired to find the words that will express my feelings and bring a song to life.

Finding those words can be very challenging. Yet when it comes together for me, the experience is glorious and unlike anything else in my life. I’m actually dancing with joy at those times.

These are lyrics in progress – not ones that I actually used.

Carol and I together when we were 19.

Just last week, I met with my good friend, Carol. We walked around a beautiful park near her house. I brought my guitar along and was excited to share my newest song with her. I also knew it was a great opportunity for me to ask her some lyric questions.

Every single word makes a difference when I sing one of my songs. I have a lot of choices and usually my lyrics evolve slowly over time.

When I took lessons with Peaches Chrenko several years ago, she had wonderful lyric advice for me. She always told me, “It’s very cool when you’re able to get rid of those unnecessary words – like ands and buts.” I’ve never forgotten that.

Carol was especially brilliant. A few years ago she helped me with my song “Alabaster Seashell” and I continue to thank her for her input. I originally wrote a lyric line of: “That seashell once was a living thing.”

Carol suggested instead that I say: “That seashell once held a living thing.”

Her suggestion definitely made a lot more sense since the creature inside was more of a living thing than the hard shell exterior.

Carol and I enjoyed our lovely picnic lunch and afterwards I sang my new song for her. I was hoping she’d help me find a name for it.

I was certain I wanted to use the word “smile” in the song title. I had two choices but neither one grabbed me. They were “See Me in Every Smile” or “Every Smile.”

In a heartbeat Carol said, “IN Every Smile.”

That was it! I was exploding with excitement. How could a single word like “in” make such a difference? But it did!

I let her know I’d think of her every time I sang “In Every Smile.”

I had many choices for my first verse and ended up going with the version above. But the last line wasn’t set. I couldn’t decide between “If you believe” or “When you believe.”

“If you believe” sounded very judgmental, like I’d only be there if there was faith. And so was “when you believe.”

But with the question of “can you believe?” the words suddenly became magical because I wasn’t imposing. Now the line was more of a suggestion, which I found far more touching to sing.

With these words, I imagine myself holding one of my babies against my chest.

WRITTEN TWO WEEKS AGO:

I didn’t feel well and barely ventured out of my house for over a week. My eyes were the worst part. I could barely open them and everything looked foggy and gray. My “mild flu” was definitely no picnic.

But it wasn’t really that terrible because my heart was exploding with the birth of a new song. The music was absolutely gorgeous and I allowed it to softly wrap around me.

I hummed the evolving melody and strummed the chords whenever I could. I wished I knew what to name my beautiful new song. I did write some lyrics for it but my first ones did not really express what I wanted to say. My song was incomplete.

I knew eventually I’d find the special words that would make my song soar. From experience, I’ve discovered that touching lyrics cannot be forced; they often happen when I least expect it. Nothing inspired me; I was sick and couldn’t even type with a pounding headache. I decided to just give in and lay down on my bed.

It was the same bed my parents once slept on and was of a very good quality; it comforted me and I felt their love close to my heart. When I first moved in, I was sure I’d replace it. I slept at the edge and didn’t need such a large bed in my small bedroom.

Then it occurred to me that I actually loved this bed. It was a perfect place for each one of my large children to hang out with me when I was sitting at my computer nearby. They would come into my bedroom, lie on it and spread out. And if I were on my bed, sometimes they would lay down next to me just like when they were little.

This past year, I was blessed with wonderful income as an illustrator. I decided to splurge on my children and a month ago I purchased new queen-sized beds for all three of them. Each child said to me, “Mom, we hope it’s just like yours.” I ended up getting my sons firmer beds – they were large men and it made more sense. I was relieved when they told me, “It’s pretty firm, but we’ll get used to it. Thanks, Mom!”

I hoped my cold would let up so I could sing again soon. I smiled picturing my kids in their new beds; I felt better just thinking about them. Then I closed my eyes and could hear my new song’s melody playing in my mind. The music was so sweet that I found myself crying.

After a few moments, I sniffled and realized I felt better. My tears had softened my sadness. And then the words came into my mind!

“It’s okay to cry awhile . . .”

I was so excited! The first line of my chorus was: “See me in every smile.” I liked that line a lot but hadn’t been able to rhyme anything with smile in a comfortable way. I couldn’t commit to that first line unless I had a second line that worked.

“It’s okay to cry awhile” conveyed exactly what I wanted. At that moment, I was elated because my song was almost finished!

I believe that crying is not only okay – it’s very healthy. I learned the hard way because for years I suppressed all of my feelings – I was emotionally deadened and considered my life to be “Zombieland.”

The most amazing part about my song was that I wrote it for my children – but when I sang it, I could feel my parents and even Jason hugging me with every word!

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My parents were completely devoted to my children and me. I treasure every picture with them and sometimes find it hard to believe they are gone.

These are my first lyrics where I hadn’t found “It’s okay to cry awhile” yet. I did not like rhyming “smile” with “trial”.

Creating a will and outlining medical directives was a way for me to make things easier for my children if anything drastic happened to me. Even though my kids are adults now, I am still very involved in their lives.

I live with my two sons (ages 18 and 24) and my 21-year-old daughter moved out a year ago. For a brief time in 2013, I had all three of them living with me in my two bedroom apartment. I had just separated from a long marriage at that time and both my sons slept in the living room. Our former home was huge and had four bathrooms. It was quite an adjustment for them to deal with having a single bathroom.

But I love my cottage/castle!

My daughter lives with roommates in an apartment nearby and we see each other frequently. Two weeks ago, she called me in the middle of the night.

When I’m jerked awake, memories come flooding back. It would be an understatement to mention that I was frequently woken up at night all through the years when my children were growing up.

My heart pounded with fear when I heard her quivering voice; she was chattering from a high fever. The first thing I did, was ask her if she had a pain reliever in her apartment. She wasn’t sure but promised she’d find one. Then I gave her instructions to take a bath.

The next morning, she came over to my house. I made her tea and she shivered under the covers in my bed. I had an illustration assignment to work on and it was one of those times where I was glad I worked in my bedroom.

In the evening, her fever came back. I drove her to the doctor to check for strep throat and thankfully, it was negative. We came home and my daughter told me she was able to drive home.

The next morning, I sent her a text to see how she was feeling. She replied: “Mom, I’m doing much better. I started feeling a fever coming on – but I took a bath and some Tylenol. So now I’m fine!”

That gave me a big smile. Even though she’s 21, she understood now about the benefits of taking a pain reliever and a bath whenever she had fever.

I love these big smiles of my daughter and I in this picture that was taken 6 months ago. My daughter took a selfie of us!

I wished I could have smiled a little longer. The very next day, my 18-year-old son also became ill. He woke me up from a sound sleep to tell me, “Mom, my temperature is almost 105!”

He went into the bathtub quickly and took a pain reliever while I spoke to a nurse on an advice line. So once again, I was back at the same hospital with my son. He looked so miserable and the doctor told me he was almost certain that both my son and daughter had influenza.

The doctor prescribed Tamiflu for my son but wanted to wait for the results of a swab test he did before prescribing it for me as a preventative.

On the way home, my son threw up in my car. He had just taken his first capsule of Tamiflu. I held my breath as I drove. He peeled off his clothes and threw them in the backyard when we came home.

Now my supermom veneer was starting to crack. My heart was pounding – it was a little hard to swallow. Could I be getting influenza?

That evening the doctor called. My son had tested positive for the flu; He recommended I start taking my son’s Tamiflu until I picked up my own prescription.

I began taking the medicine – my stomach was queasy and my body was in the throes of resisting the virus. I cancelled all of my plans and did very little for an entire week. I ended up with a terrible cold, but the classic flu symptoms such as an extremely high fever never materialized. I had dodged a bullet.

My son was still very sick the rest of that week. I told him, “Now that I’m sick, I can’t really take care of you the way I did before that.”

He replied, “Mom, I’m so sorry I gave this to you! But don’t worry – I can take Tylenol and a bath whenever I feel feverish. So you don’t need to do anything. Can I make you some tea?”

So this past week two of my children learned the same lesson, even though they aren’t young children.

Whenever I can make a difference in their lives – it is like “living on.”

And that comes from a place of deep love.

Those lessons will always be there to remind them of my love, even when I’m not.

This picture definitely conveys warm sunshine for me.

These pictures were taken at the Kulak’s Woodshed Open Mic about two months ago. Lately, I have not been up to performing, but hope I’ll be able to soon.

© 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.

ONE DAY I’LL BE GONE

Posted on February 8, 2015 by Judy

I take this opportunity to share pictures of my three children whom I adore.

A later recording of my song:

In Every Smile Acoustic 6-4-18

I love the song arrangement, which is finished. The very first chords that inspired this song were played by George on his keyboard without any other instrumentation.

SEE ME IN EVERY SMILE – piano in progress

Link to more about this song: IN EVERY SMILE

This is a fairly recent photo of all three of my children together.

A month ago, I was chatting with a friend and she said to me earnestly, “Judy, you must put all of your affairs in order. It’s so important! I just worked with a family where the father died and nothing was in place. It was such a nightmare for everyone.”

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I knew my friend was right. For months, there was a note on my desk with the scribbled words of: set up a living trust. I certainly didn’t want my children to be burdened if anything happened to me unexpectedly. But I still hadn’t followed through – it was so much easier to put it off.

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Now my friend had put the fire under me. I made an appointment to create a living trust with someone recommended by my brother.

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Before my meeting I had a flash of insight and decided to ask my good friend, Janis if she could make medical decisions for me. It would be a lot easier than expecting my children to know what to do. Janis said she would be honored to help me, which made me very teary. A week later, we met for lunch to discuss my wishes.

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The initial meeting to begin this process was quite overwhelming. My head was spinning from all the questions the lawyer asked me. I had so many decisions to make, but in general I was glad to be doing something that I knew was very important.

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The subconscious is so powerful and takes up far more of the mind than the conscious part.

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That week, I began writing a new song. I heard beautiful chords that were dissonant and very haunting. And the lyrics seemed to follow exactly what my mind was dwelling on.

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My first line went: “One day I’ll be gone . . .”

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It was thrilling for me to watch my new song unfold. The first thing I did was share my newly composed chords with my arranger, George so he could play them on his piano. I wasn’t sure if my chords were for a verse or chorus; George experimented with a few chord progressions to help me link sections together.

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I brought home his piano recording and it was so beautiful! This new song touched me deeply and I knew immediately what I wanted to convey. I began writing lyrics but a song title didn’t grab me.

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My first idea was “I’m Not Really Gone.”

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The following week when I met with George, I excitedly told him that his piano chords were great. I handed him a paper with my preliminary lyrics on it. He scanned my words quickly and then he handed the paper back to me.

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“Kind of dark,” he muttered.

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“Really? I mention love and laughter – so how is that dark?” I replied.

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He said, “What’s the first line again?”

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I laughed and answered, “One day I’ll be gone.”

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I had to admit that it was kind of gloomy with a line like that.

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But I loved what another friend of mine said. It was: “I think it’s great how you can write about something that many people think about, but are afraid to say.”

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These are lyrics that I originally wrote for my first verse, but decided not to use.

These are lyrics for the first verse that I ended up replacing.

Even though I wasn’t set on my lyrics, the theme of my song felt perfect for my life. I sang my song as if I were speaking to each one of my children.

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My emphasis was upon how much I loved them and that remembering my love would uplift them.

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The last thing I wanted was for my children to be tormented by grief when I pass on someday.

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Telling them to smile and laugh was a reminder that I hoped they would continue to live their life with joy.

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I believe greatly in healing from grief.

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My dialog with a woman named Sammi continues to shed more light upon this. Her words are in blue.

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Sammi, I am always trying to be more compassionate. Sometimes I feel guilty because I “preach” hope for survival so much. Even offering understanding isn’t always comforting sometimes because grief is so unique to every person. The best thing to offer someone grieving is to just listen and care.

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Judy, your years of surviving “the worst loss” give you a unique view of those of us who are in the first stages of this journey. To give hope to a dying soul will never be a bad thing, so you are guilty of nothing.

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Thank you, Sammi. I really can only speak for my own life. Originally, I thought it was a miracle that I survived grief. Now it is about finding joy again and THAT is a miracle! I think mindset does make a difference. Yes, the ache remains – but that doesn’t mean we have to suffer until our last breath.

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Sometimes I think we survive because there is no choice – unless we kill ourselves (which happens by suicide or total disregard for safety). I have seen that happen. I remember feeling hopeless for a long time. It didn’t even register when someone would tell me I’d feel better someday – I found it annoying.

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I will admit to having thoughts of suicide in the first days. I couldn’t stand the thought of living without my son. I would cry constantly and say, “I can’t do this” over and over. My saving grace was my husband. I never would have made it this far without him.

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When you lose a child you develop layers, layers that cover and protect you. At first it feels dishonest to friends and family hide beneath these layers, but as time goes on you realize that you are protecting yourself.

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The first layer covers your core, the screaming torn soul and protects your exposed damaged heart.

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The second layer is the face you show to those close to you, your closest friends and your family. It calms them to think you are going to be OK. It allows some semblance of life to continue for you that they are comfortable with so they can focus on their lives without worrying about you.

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The third layer is the layer that you present to the world. That layer lets you laugh and interact with others at work and those who know nothing about you. It allows you to do certain things and numbs you to most of what is said to you.

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I don’t want to hear from people about how this is what my purpose is or how wonderfully I write about what is going on. I am still the same person I always was, but hate where I am right now.

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That is because I live with a constant ache since my son died.

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I think you have eloquently explained what “survival” is. Living with layers is very numbing and kind of like being a dead person emotionally. That’s why I probably called my survival of grief “Zombieland.” I am sorry for the ache in your core, Sammi.

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Keep unwrapping it because I think that is the key to living again someday. The adage of “time heals” isn’t necessarily true even though it is a process that happens over time. It came for me when the thought of, “I can’t believe he’s dead” became “He’s dead and I can’t live without him.”

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Later on it became, “He’s dead and somehow I’m still alive without him.” The biggest shift was, “He’s dead and I am able to live again with joy.” That was my miracle and still is.

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I don’t think time heals this kind of pain. I am still at the “I can’t believe he’s dead” point. I will be taking a shower and suddenly it hits me…. again…I will never see him again, I will never hear his voice or feels his arms hugging me…ever. The finality of it all takes my breath away at times. I want those layers…. I NEED those layers. Joy is something I will never have again. I don’t have that many years left in my life to reach that place.

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Layers are survival and were for me, too. And like you – I was certain I’d never find joy again. No one can know what is ahead. Perhaps it did take me years. I know many people who have never gotten there and others that did much sooner than I. It doesn’t mean that the ache is gone. It only means that your heart lifts again. I guarantee you, Sammi, one day you will feel that.

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Posted in Healing and Hope | Tagged acknowledging grief, acoustic guitar, adjusting from grief, child loss, child's death, compassionate friends, composing, composing music, creativity, death, death of a child, discouraged about healing, Empathy and Grief, finding happiness after losing a child, Friendship, grief, grief advice, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, happiness after death of a child, healing and grief, healing from grief, healing music, hope, hope for healing, hope of healing, I'm not really gone, inspiration, is happiness possible after losing a child, Judy Unger, loss, loss of a child, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, music and healing, Music grief bereavement, music healing, one day I'll be gone, optimism, optimism after loss, original songs, overcoming grief, piano chords, see me in every smile, singing, songwriting, staying positive, surviving grief, when my love lives on | 7 Comments

I’VE ALWAYS CARED-PART 2

Posted on February 5, 2015 by Judy

This is my current image for my song “I’ve Always Cared.” The bed with my guitar is sailing across a faraway ocean to somewhere unknown.

My journey began with sharing about my life, and I especially enjoy sharing recent music. Developing and “growing” a song in my garden can take me months (sometimes years). So with eagerness, below is a preliminary recording of “I’ve Always Cared #2” where my vocal is unfinished. Just yesterday I recorded acoustic guitar and George added electric guitar into the arrangement. Soon, I plan to add some harmony.

Below are pieces of older recordings that are part of my journey. I have improved greatly as a singer from when I started back in 2010. And long ago as a young girl, I sang in higher keys with abandon. I appreciate how free-spirited I was with my voice, but in general I don’t find those recordings easy to listen to. It’s kind of embarrassing, but I do love how they add to my story.

Click the blue link below to hear my song in progress.

I’ve Always Cared Home Recording 4-2-17

I’ve Always Cared #2 Arrangement 2015

Link to hear a snippet of the “medieval” first arrangement of this song from 2010:

I’ve Always Cared #1 Arrangement 2012

Link to the first part of this story:

#141 I’VE ALWAYS CARED

I’VE ALWAYS CARED

It’s unbelievable

Has it really been that long?

For years we were strangers

But I knew all along

I’ve always cared and I always will

Never felt that way until

I passed through my life without you

I’ve always felt and I’ll always feel

Now I know it is for real

And this time, and this time

I want to be with you, with you

We’re back together

I wonder what lies ahead

The past is behind us

There’s so much left unsaid

CHORUS

I dreamed of you and the life we once shared

You weren’t gone, ’cause I still cared

Now I want to be with you, with you

I loved you still, though we were apart

No one else could know, the way you touched my heart

CHORUS

Now I want to be with you, with you . . . with you

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I composed my song “I’ve Always Cared” when I was 19 years old. I was able to easily remember it because I had a cassette recording from 1980.

I never considered “I’ve Always Cared” to be one of my best songs, but I did like the catchy chorus. This song was one of a few faster songs of mine, which involved strumming instead of my usual fingerpicking. It was similar to “Meant to Me” and “Saying Goodbye;” those were two of my other songs I wrote around that time.

George arranged “I’ve Always Cared” back in 2010 and the arrangement had an interesting medieval sound. Unfortunately, I couldn’t along with it very well. Some of that might have had to do with how difficult it was for me to relate to this song back then.

Now that five years have gone by, I decided to let George arrange “I’ve Always Cared” again and together we’d improve upon it. George envisioned it as a slower piano ballad. He composed new chords for a bridge and I revised the lyrics and wrote new ones for the bridge.

There certainly is a story surrounding what prompted me to write this song, which I will share farther along in this post. But today in 2015, my song tells me a completely different story than how I wrote it originally and is nothing that I ever expected it to be.

I crafted my revised lyrics to express feelings for my new take on this song. And the new lyrics can still work for the older story, too.

Who am I singing to? Well, here’s a hint – I’m not singing to a person!

The reunion after many years was with my music!

Perhaps that could be a sad revelation since I’ve gotten divorced. But it was honestly the easiest way for me to relate to my song. And many times, I see music as another metaphor for God in my life.

I like to add artwork of mine to every story. And because I love puns, I’ll add some of those, too. I don’t want to be blue or berry my sadness.

I prefer not to dwell upon thoughts that lead to sadness. Yes, I could be envious of people with loving partners. I could be very discouraged about my failed marriage. I felt alone for a long time and might have remained in that place if I hadn’t had the courage to change my life.

I smile and know that whatever the future holds; I will always have beautiful music to bring me joy.

And another irony was that even though it appeared that I didn’t care about my music for 30 years, it certainly cared about me.

When I was discouraged about life, it returned to rescue my soul.

It was strange seeing this old high school ID card again. Who is that girl?

It has been fun to revisit my older songs. With remakes, they come to life again.

My last song arrangement was for an old love song named “It Might Have Been. ” That song expressed how “love was something new” and shortly after I wrote it, I became engaged to be married.

But before “It Might Have Been” I wrote several songs alluding to my confusion about enduring love.

Even though I dated a lot, I was quite naïve and innocent. My dating was about looking for “the one” and I certainly didn’t imagine there were other options besides getting married.

I wonder what I was thinking in this picture.

When I was 19, I was torn between two men.

For a few months I managed to see both of them. But when they both wanted to see me for New Year’s Eve, I was stuck and realized I needed to make a choice.

I had an on and off again relationship with both of them. And I was the one who initiated the break ups because I usually felt pressured to “go steady” and I liked to feel free to date whomever seemed interesting to me.

The “other guy” was one of my first boyfriends from high school. Sam and I dated on and off for over four years, starting from the time I was 15 1/2. My parents reluctantly allowed me to date him, even though originally I was brought up with the statement of, “No dating until you’re 16!” But Sam was such a smart and nice guy, my parents caved in.

I really felt so bad breaking up with him that he inspired the first song I ever wrote aptly named, “You’re Not the One.”

I met my future husband in college at a time when I wasn’t seeing Sam. We were together awhile, but then we separated – I felt pressured by him also. After that breakup, I had second thoughts and wrote my song “Saying Goodbye.”

We reunited eight months later, and I wrote a song called “Meant to Me,” which definitely expressed how I had a feeling that something might go wrong. That sure was prophetic.

Not long after I reunited with my future husband, suddenly Sam came back into my life. In the past, I had alternated seeing these two men, but now I was involved with both of them at the same time. It was terribly guilt provoking.

And my confusion extends to “I’ve Always Cared” because I cannot remember which man I wrote it for!

In this picture, I’m graduating from Middle School.

Hypnotherapy has really given me a lot of insight into the “black and white” thinking I grew up with. When I was young, it never occurred to me that there were other possibilities other than those extremes.

I felt I had to choose between those two men rather than consider that perhaps I was too young to get married. So I picked my future husband and he became the one.

At the young age of 21 I married and my black and white thinking led me into a very gray existence.

I was not happily married from the beginning. No one around me knew, lest of all me. I assumed that I had unrealistic expectations for intimacy and felt flawed. I was determined to make the best of it because divorce seemed terrifying. I ended up filling my empty spaces by relentlessly pursuing my career as an illustrator. My parents and children met my emotional needs.

I guess I could consider myself a teas. (Hint – those are tea leaves above)

I’ll never understand how it happened, but after thirty years of musical silence – I began to play my guitar again.

I was fifty years old and at a very low point. But then I discovered that music was like magic. My heart began to explode with feelings and it changed my life.

My emotional floodgates opened up and all of the feelings I suppressed for decades began to pour out. I started this blog and excitedly shared how I started taking voice lessons. I found my arranger, George through an ad on Craigslist. One by one, I had George arrange all of the songs I wrote as a young girl.

After two years I was ready to write new songs as an adult woman. I had waited to release them until I had recorded all of my older songs. The experience of writing those new songs turned my life upside down.

My lyrics guided me to end my marriage.

One of the most interesting stories that happened from my blogging was when Sam discovered the story I had written about him with my song story for “You’re Not the One.”

I was shocked when he left a sweet comment on my blog where there was a picture of us from our high school prom.

After thirty years we reconnected. He never even knew I had written a song about our breakup.

Links to those stories:

#136 THE VERY FIRST SONG I EVER WROTE

#137 YOU’RE NOT THE ONE – PART 1

It is not uncommon to hear stories of high school sweethearts falling in love and marrying later in life.

This is not one of those stories.

Sam is happily married with four children. I met his lovely wife at the time we began corresponding. When I decided to divorce my husband, Sam tried very hard to discourage me.

I have seen Sam on only a few occasions – he came to the hospital when my mother broke her hip. When I buried my father and later on my mother, he was at both funerals.

This story gives me a big smile because I never expected I’d know him later in my life. He has truly been such a wonderful friend.

Sam is a doctor and always ready to answer any questions I have and offer medical advice. He does this from the kindness of his heart and has helped several of my friends, too.

So there is additional irony about my song “I’ve Always Cared.” Both of us still care about each other even though he wasn’t “the one” I married!

I’ve been through a lot lately, because the last two weeks the flu bug roared through my household. I can honestly say that Sam and his caring made a huge difference.

Below is my email exchange with Sam. (My words are in brown and his words are in blue)

Hi Sam, I was at Urgent Care a few days ago with my daughter – she had a high fever and came over shaking with chills. They checked her for strep throat, but it was negative.

She’s slowly improving, but now my youngest son is sick. I’m healthy and plan to stay that way! Hope you are, too. I imagine you’re exposed to everything. Have a great day!

If your daughter has influenza, she should have been placed on Tamiflu…Sam

Now I’m really concerned about my son – this afternoon his fever was almost 105, it sure spiked quickly. He was pouring sweat all evening, and I’m hoping the night goes okay.

Your son might have influenza…in spite of receiving the flu shot, which has poor effectiveness this year. Tamiflu might be of some benefit, but I don’t know if your HMO is giving it…hope that he feels better!…Sam

I don’t know if they are giving it. But suddenly I’m not feeling 100%. I’ve noticed my throat is scratchy and my eyes are very annoying. The last time I had a low fever I had trouble handling it. I am praying I’ll be fine tomorrow.

If you have been exposed to someone with the flu, you should be on Tamiflu. If you take your son to his doctor, make sure that you ask for it, if they think he has the flu. Feel better!…Sam

This illustration was for a vitamin label. Echinacea is cold remedy – but I didn’t take it this time.

Wow, Sam. I emailed my doctor and he agreed with you. He said it also could prevent illness if you’ve been exposed to someone with documented influenza. I didn’t realize this existed as a preventative. Don’t want to take up your time, but any side effects to be considered?

Allergic reactions, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, abdominal pain and such…But in reality I haven’t had much trouble with it in my patients. Did you get your flu shot this year?…Sam

I did get my shot two months ago.

I just got home from taking my son to the doctor. He prescribed Tamiflu for my son and I gave him the first dose when we left. But on the way home he threw up in my car. I’ll give him the second dose tonight and hope it goes better. I’ll keep you posted on things.

His doctor did a swab of his nasal passage for an influenza test; the result is within 24 hours. His reasoning was that if my son tests positive for the flu, then he’d prescribe Tamiflu for me. Thanks so much for caring.

No…You don’t have the flu, but Tamiflu can help you avoid getting it altogether…as you said, it IS important to get the medication before showing symptoms like high fever…see if you can get him to prescribe it for you!

I would have prescribed Tamiflu for you as well, and then considered stopping it if his nasal culture was negative…but their accuracy is only around 70% or so anyway…hope he feels better!…Sam

Hi Sam, I’m a bit fuzzy and had a slight fever this afternoon. I received a message that my son did indeed test positive for influenza. The doctor said I could start taking one of my son’s Tamiflu capsules until I can fill my prescription.

I’m going to take my first dose now! Sorry to have bothered you so much with all of this – but thank you again for your advice. 🙂

How are you feeling?….Sam

I’m feeling better psychologically since I started taking the Tamiflu. I have never seen my son or daughter this sick in awhile. If I ended up with influenza, who would take care of me? Thanks again, Sam!

Judy

Ps. By the way, am I contagious?

I think that you are contagious…you may have the flu…not everyone that has the flu will have a full-blown case. I think that five days should be fine…if you are feeling better once you are done with the Tamiflu, you should be way less contagious…hope that all of you feel better!!!…Sam

For the last two nights, I was sweating a lot and my heart was pounding. But I didn’t get the flu! Now I have what feels like a common cold – I’m sneezing a lot. I can deal with it, except my eyes are terrible. I’ll be done with Tamiflu in two more days and am very grateful. I sure feel glad to have you in my corner!

Judy

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IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN – PART 2

Posted on January 26, 2015 by Judy

Since my divorce, I’ve cropped my ex-husband from the picture.

Click the blue link below to hear my song:

It Might Have Been Arrangement 2015–

IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN

–

It might have been the very first time we kissed

lightly sprayed by an ocean mist,

my mind was in a blur

I remember just how shy you were

–

No, it might have been the time I left you

Loneliness filled my dreams; you were my closest friend

and longing in my heart wouldn’t end

–

I’d never felt that way before; love was something new

I often wonder when it was, I often wonder when it was

I fell in love with you

It might have been the time I called to you in pain

As I shook, you held me close; I was not afraid

and through those darkest nights you stayed

–

All those times – so long ago

are in my memory

I still remember how you loved me

–

I’d never felt that way before; love was something new

I often wonder when it was, I often wonder when it was

I fell in love with you

–

The lyrics above were an addition to my song three decades later.

–

Memories can be so many things for me. Sweet memories evoke sensations and can take me back to childhood. Traumatic memories hijack my mind to places I never want to revisit.

Sometimes I picture my memories as rings of growth on an old tree stump. Traumatic memories are the layers that appear as if they were created by a forest fire, clearly visible. I seldom have accessed memories below those burnt layers because it was too painful to get close.

The first song lyrics that I wrote as an adult woman were for my song named “Memory of Love.” Loving memories were clearly the antidote for me. I wrote that song because I mourned the loss of my mother; she was slipping into dementia and I was devastated to lose her. It was interesting that the lyrics also applied to my husband. At that time, I was very lonely in my marriage.

I married very young and I divorced last year after 31 years of marriage. I have tried hard not to feel guilty about hurting my husband since he never expected I would leave. In order to cope, I often find myself becoming numb and detached – as if my past belonged to someone else. Suppression of my honest feelings was also a familiar way of dealing with disappointment during my marriage.

The most beautiful part of exploring an older song is how it helps me to access memories prior to traumatic events that otherwise might have remained buried. That was why recording my vocal for “It Might Have Been” was extremely touching.

Initially, I wondered how I’d find a vibe for a song about falling in love that I wrote as a young 19-year-old girl. It has been at least 35 years since I’ve experienced romantic feelings.

The image of that beautiful tree stump is in front of me. I see how I can now appreciate all of the beautiful rings of growth that represent my life.

And most of all, I appreciate the pure and honest core of my heart in the center of it all.

Link to my first story about this song:

#158 IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN-PART 1

This is a page from my diary when I was 19. My musings about self-love back then are fascinating for me. The same love for being creative in my youth continues to fuel me today.

At my last hypnotherapy session I said to my therapist, Connie, “I wrote a story about “It Might Have Been. But I’m not sure if I am going to share it. It’s very personal with my admission at the end.”

I read my story aloud and lingered upon the last line. My words were that I never experienced true intimacy in my marriage. It meant that I felt like I had missed out by not having what many other people have told me was integral to their life. And I felt damaged and vulnerable because of that.

Connie was an expert at guiding me to find my own answers. As a hypnotherapist, she wasn’t even allowed to tell me what to do. Her goal was always to empower me to help myself.

Certainly, writing my story helped me whether or not I decided to share it. What both of us discussed were the feelings that came with my closing sentences. I told her that I knew I could reframe my thinking and would work on that.

Then she pushed a piece of paper toward me. On it was written:

In to me, I see

I read the words aloud. It was such a clever definition for the word intimacy! I said, “This must be about how when someone loves you, they want to come in. It’s about feeling safe enough to let them in to see what’s inside of you.”

I continued by saying, “That definition works for me. I never felt like I could open up to my husband. I worried that honesty would upset him. We never would fight about anything; I looked the other way when he upset me and ignored my intuition that our relationship wasn’t healthy. I married so young and stuck with marriage even though my husband didn’t understand me. With my awakening I just couldn’t live that way any longer.”

Then I added, “But I’m really not looking to find intimacy, so I’m confused. I’m missing what I didn’t have, but definitely have no desire to find it now at this age!”

As we talked about my confusion, it made sense that since my past experiences in a relationship were so unpleasant, my subconscious would associate any future relationship with those same feelings.

It was time for hypnosis. I laid back and closed my eyes and floated off. I wanted to replace any thoughts that led to sadness.

I decided it felt better for me to focus on all the unique and special experiences I’ve had in my life, rather than dwelling upon things I felt I had missing out on. I said aloud to Connie, “Okay, I have experienced something amazing with my music – something I never imagined after 30 years of musical silence. I’ve connected with many people in beautiful ways and the experience of writing a song is magnificent; I feel and see things in my heart that I might never have discovered otherwise. I am so blessed to have music in my life.”

I awoke from hypnosis smiling. And it must not have been a coincidence that the music to a gorgeous new song composition began playing in my mind that week. I was completely uplifted.

I do miss the times when I could open my eyes wide like in the picture above.

This is the actual song sheet from 1980. In 2010, I changed many of the chords and wrote the melody. I didn’t have a recording to help me remember my song. I did remember the melody for the first line, though.

I have discovered that I am very vulnerable to both adoration and criticism.

It seemed like lately my musical focus was upon love songs instead of songs about loss. My last song arrangement was “Just A Tune,” which had beautiful words of finding love again. But the only way I could relate to it at this time in my life was with self-love.

My song that followed was “It Might Have Been” and it was about falling in love. I could not relate to it in the present and it forced me to remember how I felt when I was 19 years old. This led me to find insight surrounding my feelings about love that led me get married.

Every verse of my song (except the last one) held reasons for why I had fallen in love with my former husband. The last verse was written in 2010 and it was a challenge to come up with. I made it a summary for the other verses.

This photo is from a weekend retreat and I have no connection now with the people sitting there with me.

This photo is from a weekend retreat. My guitar and I were joined at the hip back then.

I dated a lot as a teenager. I remember that my husband won me over because he especially loved my music.

Music was the ticket into my heart and soul. I sang to him whenever we were together. I wrote him love songs. He brought me flowers every single week and it all felt magical. So at the young age of 20, I decided he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I learned about love from my parents. I was very much adored by them, so it made sense that I searched for love in the same way. I was lured with adoration and my heart grew cold later on because of unrelenting criticism.

After I was married, I no longer felt adored. I chalked that up to “real life” and assumed my immaturity and sheltered life gave me unrealistic expectations for love and intimacy.

My husband was difficult to please and very unhappy with his career. I thought if we did better financially, things would change for us. I devoted all of my energy into becoming a successful illustrator in order to make money.

Gradually, I withdrew from him and placed the blame upon myself for any unhappiness.

When I was 24, I saw a therapist because I was deeply depressed. She told me that my depression was related to my parents; I needed to confront them and set some boundaries. Two therapists directed a family meeting my parents, two older brothers and me. My husband did not attend.

After confronting my parents I felt more empowered, but it was a very draining and painful episode in my life. Moving forward things were different and I felt even more alone. It hadn’t brought me any closer to my husband.

All of this ended up pushing me into another direction. I impulsively decided that I was ready to have children. Subconsciously, I imagined it would fill my emptiness and bring love into my life.

Having children taught me about how selfless love actually is.

Unfortunately, Jason was born with a severe congenital heart defect. After that, my marriage was truly relegated to the back burner. Jason’s care swallowed me up and then grief slaughtered my existence with his death.

I went on to have three subsequent children after Jason; it was a life raft for me. I have been a very devoted mother and became a fierce advocate for all three of my living children when they had struggles in school due to challenges they were born with.

I suffered a terrible loss with my first-born son, but my three living children are a great blessing to me. Being intimately involved in their lives continues to give me my greatest joy in life.

Romantic love was beautiful and even though it wasn’t something that lasted – I am grateful I had that experience.

My first verse for “It Might Have Been” is about a first kiss. Somehow, I overcame my squirming embarrassment while singing those lyrics. When I’m singing, memories transport me to a time when love was thrilling and my emotions were so innocent and pure.

In this picture, I am playing guitar on the patio where I now live.

The intimacy of my music is very much a part of why I do it.

I overlooked the greatest clue about my unhappiness when I stopped playing my guitar almost immediately after I was married. I thought it was because I was too “grown up” to do music anymore. I missed the friends who shared it with me.

I also missed my husband and the way he was before we were married.

I occasionally tried to play, but had no emotional connection to music anymore. And sometimes when I was singing alone, I would quickly stop whenever I heard my husband’s footsteps approaching.

That was my clue that I never realized until now. I didn’t feel like sharing my heart with him through singing anymore.

For years and years, I swallowed my sadness and closed off my heart to avoid the deep disappointment I felt about love and marriage. My mother had insisted I marry before my formal wedding because of her belief that pre-marital sex was a sin. I complied in order to please her – I wanted her to be happy, instead of disappointed in me. I wanted her to love me.

It’s no wonder why love has been so confusing for me.

My song expresses a lot of wonderment about falling in love. I have thought about whether to rename it. But once again, the older name of “It Might Have Been” won out because it has a lot of meaning for me.

With the title of “It Might Have Been” I could imagine all the possible scenarios of how my life might have turned out quite different if I hadn’t married as young as I did.

But then, I realize how I wouldn’t have necessarily wanted that. I adore my children. I found my clarity and it was: I wouldn’t change anything!

Everything I have experienced in my life has led me to where I am now.

I still believe there are many surprises in store for me ahead to dream about. But I am not mourning my past or living for tomorrow – I am living my dreams every single day of my life now.

I love this image that I often attach to this song because it represents my bliss because of music. Things might have been very different if I hadn’t changed my life in order to follow my dream.

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.