myjourneysinsight

YOU’RE NOT THE ONE – PART 2

Posted on August 25, 2013 by Judy

I picked this image as my song cover for “You’re Not the One,” because I love this picture. It was taken by one of my many boyfriends (not by Sam) when I was 18.

YOU’RE NOT THE ONE

What we had I took away

There was nothing left at all anyway

You spoke of love, but that’s just a word

I can’t comprehend that line that I’ve heard before . . .

I’m sorry you’re hurt; I just couldn’t lie

I had empty feelings, and I don’t know why

We had to end it; I know it’s unfair

I wonder if I’ll ever be able to care for another

You demanded things I did not feel

I can’t express what is not real

The love you wanted wasn’t there

The pain you’ll just have to bear

Now that you’re gone I can say honestly

What we had is still special to me

I look back and remember the fun

But now I realize you’re not the one

You’re not the one for me

When this song was recorded, I was still learning to sing after 30 years of silence:

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Link to lyrics, more stories and recordings for YOU’RE NOT THE ONE.

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In December of 2009, my mother was recovering from surgery to repair her broken shoulder. I did not want her to have that surgery, but was pressured by doctors, my brother and my father into acquiescing. My mom was very susceptible to respiratory infections and had been coughing a lot the day before her surgery.

While I was visiting her, I could see she was having great difficulty breathing. Soon it became an emergency situation; she was intubated and put on a respirator. What followed was a horror. She had a tracheostomy a week later and was on a respirator for two months. There were few words to describe the day-to-day ordeal of watching her fight to live.

I truly dreaded waking up every morning to face my day.

I would go to the hospital to be with my mother and soothe her. When I wasn’t there, her hands were bound with restraints because otherwise she would pull out her tubes. In the evening, I’d leave the hospital, but often before I could go home I had to shop for food for my family. Because it was late, my husband and children stopped waiting for me to eat dinner with them.

I was completely overwhelmed by the unrelenting stress in my life.

Despite this difficult situation, there was one thing that I looked forward to doing: writing. Late at night, I sent email messages to family and friends who wanted to know about my mother’s condition. Those desperate messages I typed late at night were filled with honesty. Many of my friends told me how they were hanging on my words. I barely ever saw my husband and because he disliked reading he didn’t want me to send him any updates.

It was then when I realized how lonely I was and how much I loved writing.

Miraculously, after two months my mother was weaned off the respirator and released from the hospital into a skilled nursing facility. She never went back to assisted living and was separated from my father. In retrospect, I see how her dementia accelerated after this ordeal.

Gradually I was able to get back to a semblance of my former existence. But something had changed for me; I had discovered how comforting it was for me to express my feelings by writing.

In February of 2010, I created this blog and my fabulous journey of insight began!

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Mom with Trach

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During the time that my mother was on a respirator, I shared my email messages freely. It was probably because I felt so isolated and lonely; the support I received really fueled me. More and more I opened up to share my honest feelings. On one of my messages I mentioned how I was a songwriter before I was married.

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My childhood friend, Joni asked me why I wasn’t playing my guitar anymore. She remembered how much I had loved playing while in high school and offered to introduce me to a Grammy-winning music producer she knew.

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With that incentive, I picked up my guitar and began to play again after 30 years. The more I sang and played my guitar, the more my life began to change.

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This is a charcoal drawing from my college days. I played classical guitar back then.

This charcoal drawing is from my college days when I played classical guitar.

One of the most interesting parts of my journey has been how I’ve reconnected with many people from my past.

As a result of updating a former neighbor from my childhood, I was reunited with her son, Steve. He was my childhood playmate and ended up helping me tremendously with music recording. I was so fortunate to have reconnected with him.

Once my blog and life story were out on the Internet, many people from my past began to pop back into my life.

Probably the most beautiful story of all is how I re-established a wonderful friendship with my former high school boyfriend, whom I will refer to as “Dr. Sam.”

I met Sam in high school, when I was 15 years old. It was sweet how we both attended each other’s high school prom; he was two years older than I.

Sam and I dated on and off for four years. When we were “off,” it was strictly a result of my pushing him away. Sam was patient with me, even though I was fickle and kept breaking up with him. But after four years, our break-up became final. I had told both him and my future husband that I would spend New Year’s Eve with them. I was forced to choose.

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I picked this image as my song cover for “You’re Not the One,” because I love this picture. It was taken by one of my many boyfriends (not by Sam) when I was 18.

Not long after that, Sam began dating and later on was engaged to a good friend of mine. Her name was Carol and I lost touch with both of them.

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I actually reunited with Carol and it’s been delightful. She did not marry Sam and he gave me information to find her.

Back in 1975 when I first met Sam, I had just started learning how to play the guitar. After our final break up I wrote my very first original song, which I named, “You’re Not the One.”

He never heard my song back then, but he has now!

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I was always a little embarrassed by “You’re Not the One.” Recently, when I sang a new vocal I was reminded of my anguish over hurting such a nice guy. Clearly, I was unsure about what I wanted and felt pressured to find “the one.”

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It’s interesting how I treated my future husband much the way I did Sam. I broke up with him also after feeling pressured. During that time period, I wrote my song “Saying Goodbye.”

But eventually I reunited with my future husband and decided he was “the one.”

I married when I was twenty-one and until this year I never lived on my own.

I am certain I was far too young to have gotten married. At that time in my life, I didn’t see any other options. My parents discouraged me from living on my own because it was something “good girls” didn’t do. I couldn’t imagine challenging them.

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Pictures from family vacations remind me of how secure I felt growing up.

As I cope with separation and divorce, memories are triggered because I live in the same apartment where I grew up.

My childhood home is once again a “cocoon.” I often picture my mother cooking in the kitchen and can even smell those delicious aromas in my mind. I sleep in the same bed where my parents’ once slept; I used to wake them up with frequent nightmares as a child and can picture myself shaking my mother awake. I still hear my father’s voice correcting my grammar and telling me to stand up straight and not chew on ice.

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And almost every day, I walk right near the high school where Sam and I used to stroll hand in hand.

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I realize that I had no idea what it meant to find “the one.”

My husband captured my heart especially because he loved my music when we were dating. Once we were married, I stopped playing my guitar.

I felt a lot of pressure to succeed as an artist. The story I told myself was that I needed to choose between art and music. I did succeed in establishing myself as a commercial artist. My career became my “baby” and I didn’t really think I wanted children.

But seven years after I was married, I decided perhaps it was time for me to become a mother. I was not happy, but did not examine my marriage. I had my first child and went into survival mode because he was sickly. Jason had a severe congenital heart defect and died when he was five.

For another two decades, I became a tireless advocate for all three of my other children because they required it. I fought the school district to get them the help they needed.

Through all of that, I stayed married when the odds were against it.

I stuck with my decision for 31 years and celebrate the beautiful children that my husband and I created together.

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My musical journey began with my attempt to remember every song that I wrote prior to the age of 21. As I recorded those songs, I expanded many of them by adding new verses, choruses and lyrics.

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For “You’re Not The One,” I did not change one word.

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I arranged and recorded the “very first song I ever wrote” in October of 2010. I posted it to my blog and wrote about my high school boyfriend. I put pictures of us with the story, but covered Sam’s face with a big heart.

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Prom Pic Boyfriend A

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It was about a month later when I received a comment on that story. It was from Sam. I was in shock!

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We began emailing to share about our lives after over thirty years. I wrote a story about our reunion on this blog.

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Below are links to stories about our reunion:

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#148 I REMEMBER THE FUN

#152 WHAT WE HAD IS STILL SPECIAL TO ME

#164 FADING THROUGH PASSAGES OF MY LIFE

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It has been almost three years since our reconnecting.

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I have only physically met Sam twice. The first time was when I invited him and his wife to my home and wrote my reunion story. The second time was when my mother broke her hip and he came to the hospital to offer me advice and support.

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Sam is not only a successful physician; he is the head of the American Medical Association of Southern California.

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I must say that it has been a godsend to have such a compassionate and terrific doctor as my friend. Sam has been extremely kind to friends of mine by giving advice and coming to their rescue. He is happily married with four wonderful children. When I met his wife, I was very impressed with her. She was beautiful and kind.

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Sam is a practicing Orthodox Jew and has strong viewpoints. I appreciate our dialogs because it has forced me to clarify my feelings in order to explain things to him. I wrote a lot more about grief than I ever expected to in order to answer his questions. Many times, he has triggered intense reactions from me.

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I wrote this post for two reasons. One reason is because last week I recorded a new vocal for my song “You’re Not the One.”

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The other reason is that I am ready to start sharing more of my feelings related to why I chose to get divorced and start a new life.

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On my next post, I plan to share an email dialog with Sam when I told him I was planning to leave my husband.

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© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, adjusting to divorce, Advocacy, Aging Parents, Caregiving, composing, coping with divorce, facing divorce, facing divorce after a long marriage, Friendship, gray divorce, guitar, high school memories, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, original songs, reconnecting, respirator weaning, separation and divorce, singing, songwriting, writing | Leave a comment

MY SONG GARDEN

Posted on August 21, 2013 by Judy

I am a passionate songwriter.

I love expressing myself with words, and writing about my life has healed so much of my pain. For some reason, by sharing my intimate feelings I feel connected to other people. I am never lonely anymore.

But songwriting takes me far beyond words, because adding them to beautiful music is magnificent.

Currently, I am writing a new song. It truly is like a “birth,” because my song has a life of it’s own. As the words and music are slowly revealed to me, I dream about how it might sound arranged. The process of cultivating and growing a new “song seed” to add to my song garden, simply adds more perfume and color into my inspirational life.

A few weeks ago, I could hum and play only one verse. Just last week, the lyrics and melody for the chorus began to develop. Throughout my day, I hum that melody and dance along with it. The excitement in my life has been building because my new song is blooming around me.

Just for fun, I recorded the first two verses while playing my guitar for a good friend.

Click the blue link below to play audio:

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A RAINBOW THROUGH MY TEARS – IN PROGRESS

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One way that I love to describe myself is that I am a “song gardener.”

What I love about my current existence is the freedom I have given myself to be that gardener.

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I’m not in any hurry to have my garden trampled in order for my songs to be more “commercial.” This garden is mine to enjoy, though I do love sharing it and my songs can freely be heard on my blog.

The difference is that I’m not sharing a “final product” but instead am opening my heart to the world. Every post, leads to a song in some way. This glorious process of songwriting and healing has become my new life and my blog documents how my songs have unfolded.

In the past, I might have told myself that singing and songwriting was a waste of time; it was “frivolous.” But I feel financially stable since my divorce and am also working as an artist. When I received another large illustration assignment this week, I took that as a sign from God that I am doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.

Following my dream is most certainly possible for me and that is why I am so happy!

Trust me, in order to cultivate my “song seeds” into lovely flowers there was a lot for me to learn. In the last three years, I’ve become adept at music editing and have worked hard to improve my singing voice after not using it for over thirty years. (Hint: I never considered myself to be a good singer when I was young.)

So that is why it is amazing for me now – I love singing and hearing my own voice. I am far less anxious about performing and look forward to sharing my journey publicly through speaking and singing more and more. During those performances I plan to talk about grief and healing.

Writing about my “song garden” really helped me gain clarity. For many months now, I was not enjoying the beautiful flowers blooming in my song garden.

I realize now that it was because I was digging and hoeing, removing dead petals, wilted leaves and unwanted pests. I wasn’t seeing color or smelling the aromas; I saw only the flaws in my garden. Many of my earlier song recordings had crackles and buzzes on a few tracks. Although I wanted a manicured and perfect garden and was proud of my ability to create it, the entire process became an exhausting job.

When I was focused on fixing every minute flaw, all of my creative energy was sapped.

The reason a song garden is such a wonderful metaphor for me is because it relates to something I also discovered as an artist. I loved painting flowers over man-made objects because they were imperfect and organic. So now I’ve decided that there’s nothing wrong with my music being a wild garden that flourishes with new blossoms every day.

Sometimes I have encountered strong opinions from others about what my songs require. It has been challenging for me to balance those opinions, because I’ve never considered myself to be an expert musician.

But now that I have become a seasoned song gardener, I’ve begun to follow my own intuition more and more and it feels great! There is no perfect way to sell my song CD.

There is just whatever way I want to do it – I get to choose! When I’m ready, I will. I’m in no hurry.

I plan to continue recording vocals, creating new arrangements and writing new songs. As I finish songs, I always update my two song pages, which are links that are on the right side of my blog. Clicking on “JUDY’S MUSIC COMPLETE,” goes to a page where I always have a date next to each song mix.

I love my life and celebrate the peace that comes with following my heart.

Lyrics and music surround me on this wondrous journey my life has become.

I share a glimpse into my life as a songwriter. These are “lyrics in progress” for my newest song.

This is one of my favorite paintings.

MY SONG GARDEN

When I was a very young child, I composed melodies to express how much I loved my mom.

I learned how to play the guitar at the age of fifteen. The sweet notes of my guitar were captivating. I discovered I could channel all of my feelings into a song; the process was magical.

Singing sad songs soothed my emptiness. Songs that were joyous lifted me higher than the heavens.

I had no idea, but it was then when my song garden began to grow.

With music, life was incredibly beautiful. Every experience became a song.

Some of my songs expressed things I hadn’t yet experienced but imagined I would.

The prophecies of those song lyrics were nothing short of remarkable.

I sang about love and eventually I fell in love. My future mate adored listening to my songs and for that reason I loved him even more. Up until the day we were married, I carried my guitar everywhere and sang to him.

After we were married, I stopped singing my songs. I decided that my energy needed to be directed toward living a mature life. My mind was full of grown up visions and there was no longer room in my life for a song garden as an adult.

The truth was that I no longer had any emotions with which to grow songs.

I denied my true feelings and disconnected myself from my heart. I did not express anger. I could not feel joy.

I simply dedicated myself to becoming a great illustrator in order to make money. After seven years of dullness, I went on to have children and realize now that perhaps it was to fill my void. Every child of mine was a miracle. I deeply loved them and never looked back.

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I consider all of my children to be miracles.

So my garden was relegated to memories of a young girl. The songs that had once bloomed and flourished became barren and their melodies disappeared into the wind.

The years went by . . .

As an adult, I carried scars from the ravages of unbearable grief. I had little time for memories; I was weary of life and grateful that I rarely cried like I did when my child first died.

I refused to face that truth, or admit that my “mature life” had been so unsatisfying. Instead, I lived through the joy that I saw in my children. They became my life force.

I was numb. Memories of my joy as a young girl were extremely sad because it was a reminder that the best part of my life was over.

One day, I was so tired of holding all of my emotions inside and feeling discouraged about life. Gradually, I allowed myself to feel and to remember.

I began to release the pain inside my heart.

At first, I was afraid, but then I simply let go of fear. There was nothing to lose and I decided to give myself permission to be happy.

The memories of music gently whispered to me and I wondered if I could remember any of the songs that used to give me so much pleasure.

I often noticed the dusty guitar case in my closet. My guitar was like a long-lost friend that I never wanted to let go of, even though we hadn’t touched in many, many years.

With curiosity, I decided to open the case and see what I could remember.

Holding my guitar again was comfortable and familiar. At first, there was pain as I played it. But as the memory of chords came into my fingertips, I easily ignored the pain.

Suddenly, I felt emotion swelling inside of me; sadness began to dissipate. I was overwhelmed with enthusiasm and filled with disbelief.

My songs had not died!

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Playing my guitar at the age of 15.

My youthful song garden was wild, tangled and always blooming. I could easily remember how I danced through my garden and sang freely as a young girl.

My adult song garden was sparse and barren for decades. The moment I began to play my guitar again, I was determined to restore it.

Because I was an older woman, I had maturity and new emotions to express.

Now I could cultivate my garden in a spectacular way. I carefully dug to search for every song seed I could find. Every ounce of pain in my life (a euphemism for “crap”) became my fertilizer. I gently grew each one of those song seeds and watched my songs explode into radiant blooms.

My adult song garden became a bountiful paradise. The song seeds from decades earlier bloomed in ways I never could have imagined. All of my pain was healed by the garden I surrounded myself with and my life was transformed.

Although I had been married for decades to the same man I fell in love with as a young girl, we were strangers. It was too lonely for me to continue to live that way. My music gave me courage to know that it would be far better to live alone. Living with him kept my heart closed with a complete denial of my true feelings.

It was because of my songs that I learned my true feelings.

I followed my own song lyrics and changed the course of my life.

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My new life was filled with passion and it even caused me to find faith in God.

God wanted me to share my garden with the world. I took my task seriously and devoted myself to it with every ounce of my being. There were no coincidences for me, because wonderful people appeared in my life in order to help my garden grow.

I hoped I could help other people heal by sharing the beauty of my garden.

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However, there were many times when my life became challenging. It was not possible to always be joyous. I watched my father die and my mother fade with dementia. I chose to end my marriage after 31 years.

But when I was filled with sadness, my songs always comforted me. If I fell down, my songs lifted me up.

Every song that I planted was healing and inspiring because the lyrics and music perfectly fit my life. The sweet perfume of song melodies and the magic of my garden sustained me.

My songs were filled with love. I danced through my life hearing music and was grateful to God for blessing me with such a beautiful gift.

I knew I was the richest woman in the world.

I freely share CDs of my music and stories. This lovely note came back to me from a fellow blogger in Canada. The line that gives me so much pleasure is: “Your voice is very pure.”

I freely share CDs of my music and stories. This lovely note came back to me from a fellow blogger in Canada. The line that gives me the most pleasure is: “Your voice is very pure.” Her letter was four pages long.

Transcription:

I found myself reading and re-reading your letter. I cannot for a moment pretend to understand what you experienced as a result of Jason’s death or the time that followed. I believe one of the greatest tragedies of life is when a child passes before their parents. It’s unimaginable to me – the raw pain. Yet, here you are – reaching out to me to ease my illness – your strength is incredible! Further, in coping with caring for your mom after you had already experienced so much grief – is beyond my comprehension.

I am thankful you began to write about your experiences. In doing so, even inadvertently, you can touch so many and bring healing, understanding and so much more to their lives.

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Posted in Healing and Hope | Tagged acoustic guitar, composing, composing music, creativity, god and music, grief, grief bereavement "Loss of a Child", GRIEF RELATED, guitar, healing, healing from grief, healing music, inspiration, inspirational life, intimate feelings, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, music and healing, music healing, musical arrangements, musical comfort, musical inspiration, musical rediscovery, musician, new vocal, original songs, passion for music, seashell, singing, song garden, songwriter, songwriting, words and music, writing | 4 Comments

MUSIC FROM MY HEART

Posted on August 19, 2013 by Judy

MUSIC FROM MY HEART

One day, I began to play

Silence turned to song; it was the start

All my sadness went away and I was healed

With music from my heart, from my heart

I thought I’d always mourn, trauma from my past

And when I was reborn, healing came at last

So many tears I’d cry, I did grieve

So many years went by, I didn’t believe

Sorrow would leave . . .

When I began to write, I felt so alive

I found my insight; I didn’t just survive

I sang and my tears dried, no one guessed

About my pain inside, I expressed

I was blessed . . .

With grief there was no sound; and it would seem

Joy I had finally found; hope became my theme

Now I could dream . . .

I was sad for so long; now my world was filled with song,

That day, I began to play silence turned to song

It was the start; all my sadness went away

And I was healed with music from my heart

The music from my heart

Click the blue link below to play audio:

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Music From My Heart #2 Arrangement 2013

Music From Her Heart #1 Arrangement 2011

Below is a link to Part 1 of this story:

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#223 MUSIC FROM HER HEART

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I recorded vocals for “Music From Her Heart” two months ago. At the same time, I began working on a new arrangement where my song lyrics would change into first person.

Switching from singing in third person to first person was very significant for me.

In order to explain some of my feelings surrounding this I wrote a parable, which is at the end of this post.

I’ve noticed that I’m thinking less about my technique since I recorded that vocal. When I sang it two months ago, I was very distraught about my eyesight condition due to vitreous detachment in both my eyes. Someday, I plan to record this song again and sing it with more joy and abandon.

It seems that as a result of my Ayahuasca experience, I am much calmer and more accepting about life. I’ve noticed that I’m enjoying singing more because I’ve removed a lot of pressure. It was a difficult decision for me to halt my voice lessons, but for now I see some benefits. Certainly, what I learned with my teacher, Kimberly Haynes completely changed my voice. I was blessed to find her and plan to continue implementing what she taught me.

Another change since my life-changing weekend retreat is that I’ve decided to divorce myself from food (funny for me to use the word divorce, but that’s what it feels like!). It has been a lifelong struggle for me to maintain a comfortable weight and the feeling of being out of control has wasted so much of my energy. I am grateful that since my healing weekend, something has shifted and I’m much more aware of the benefits of “eating lightly.” It’s working for me, and weight is started to drop off. I am quite used to comforting and numbing myself with food. In the past, I took care of myself that way but I see my new approach as far more loving.

I’ve decided that my time on earth is very precious and this truly is the best time in my life. Despite the challenge of adjusting to irritating eyesight, because of music my life is beautiful and inspirational beyond measure.

I wake up every day feeling blessed and love following my dream.

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In this picture, I am with my childhood friend, Joni.

“Spa Day”

Two weeks ago, I spent the day with my childhood friend, Joni. She drove us to visit her elderly mother who lived an hour away. There was a lot of traffic, but the time flew by as my good friend and I caught up on our lives.

Joni and I had many memories from our childhood and so many of them returned because I was living in same coop where we grew up. Joni lived in an adjacent unit and we occasionally played together from the time we were toddlers until I married when I was 20. After that we stayed in touch, but often didn’t talk for years.

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This picture of Joni and I on our high school graduation day was taken on the same walkway outside the coop where I now live.

This picture of Joni and I before our high school graduation day was taken on the same walkway outside the coop where I now live.

A lot of frustration for us as children related to the fact that Joni was seldom ever allowed to play. She was required to work in her parents’ dry-cleaning store every day after school.

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Joni was like a member of my family. She was very influenced by the observance of religion in my home and she is now far more religious than my own family was. There was no doubt about how close she was to my parents and she often visited my mother at her nursing home.

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My best memories with Joni were on family vacations. She was a part of my family.

I had hardly seen Joni’s mother in over thirty years and decided to make the time to go with Joni for a visit. It would be interesting to see this woman, who I viewed as so powerful and business driven when I was growing up.

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I knew Joni carried a lot of scars from her childhood, but it wasn’t visible that day. Our time visiting her mother was really beautiful to absorb. Her mother was docile and sweet; both were extremely loving to each other.

We spent the day at a beauty school. The treatments were fairly inexpensive and while Joni’s mother was getting her hair done, Joni and I had facials and manicures. I was truly in a reverie because I seldom took a break from all my passions. It was so relaxing.

The beauty students were gracious and enthusiastic and I could tell that everyone around us were touched by the stories Joni and I shared about our lives; there was something inspirational about us being together. After my facial, many people came over to tell me I was glowing.

I certainly was.

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Spa day with Joni

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After eating dinner with her mother, it was late and time to head home. There was traffic again and both of us were tired. I asked Joni if I could sing because it would be excellent practice for me. She said she would be delighted, so I plugged my iPod into a speaker and began singing along to many karaoke versions of my songs.

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It was so beautiful that Joni knew the lyrics to my songs and sang along with me!

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Our drive was magical and went by quickly. Joni told me that my singing aloud meant more to her than I could ever imagine.

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It was completely inspired because I never imagined us being grown ups together in this way!

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This picture was taken in the dressing room shortly before my wedding.

I Became the Princess

The Princess treasured her fairy named Melody. Melody was close to her and snuggled next to her pillow every night. She whispered in the Princess’s ear and dried each and every one of her tears.

Melody noticed the Princess was regaining her strength. She was beginning to open her eyes again and there were fewer tears. Melody was relieved. Although the “spider of sadness” spun webs around them, the Princess continued to gingerly brush the webs aside.

Nothing had really changed for the Princess with her eyesight; the difference was that she began to accept her condition. Music kept her joyful, so she focused all her energy upon that. Singing was actually a perfect expression for her. Over the last three decades she hadn’t been able to find her voice. Now that she had discovered it, there was complete joy for her with singing.

It inspired the Princess to write a parable describing how she saw her music as a beautiful “song garden.”

The Princess told Melody that after she finished writing her parable, it felt as if the story belonged to someone else. With seriousness, she told Melody, “I cannot write about the Princess any longer.”

Melody understood and the Princess was clear about her reasons.

For decades she had no voice, but she did now. She learned how to connect with her vocal cords and with her honest feelings.

The Princess told Melody that when she first separated it was difficult to write about the end of her marriage. Imagining her ex-husband as a Dragon was far easier. She felt uncomfortable with her honesty, so it felt safer writing from a distance by using “she” instead of “I.”

But now, the Princess knew she was safely away from the Dragon and proud that she had come so far. He had fathered their beautiful children and there were many memories, not all sad ones.

He was only a dragon when she carried emotions that weighed her down. Releasing fear, anger and guilt freed her. She had gone through a tunnel and had emerged into sunlight.

Now she could bid him farewell.

She was completely ready to let go of being a Princess. It never felt true because she had served her husband, her parents and her children for decades. Cinderella might have been a more accurate image, except she never expected a prince would come to rescue her.

She was simply an ordinary middle-aged woman who embraced her passion and found courage.

She thanked God every single day that it wasn’t too late to turn her life around.

Now she was lighter than a feather and felt herself lifting off the ground.

Melody would be her wings now.

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Tagged Aging Parents, audio music, Ayahuasca experience, composing, creativity, eyesight, Friendship, heal music, inspiration, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother, mother daughter relationship, Music, Music from my heart, musical inspiration, original songs, parable, Posterior Vitreous Detachment, Princess and the Dragon, princess metaphors, separation, singing, song lyrics, songwriting, the princess and the dragon, vitreous detachment, writing | Leave a comment

I KNEW LOSING YOU WOULDN’T BE EASY

Posted on August 14, 2013 by Judy

This bird definitely has a chip on his shoulder!

One of the harder aspects of going through a divorce has been trying to alleviate the suffering brought upon my children by change. I’d like to think that my children have learned to become more resilient and independent with the change thrust upon them as a result of my decision to divorce. They certainly were forced to grow up quickly. For a long time I held them back, which added to my guilt.

Thankfully, I’ve let go of much of that anguish. It’s been very difficult for me not to spin stories in my mind about the effect divorce has had upon my children. But mindsets can be adjusted.

I remind myself that prior to divorce, my children simply witnessed a sad marriage. Staying married because it was “best for my children” (and parents) was the story that I believed in and followed for over thirty years.

But I have no regrets about any part of my past life. I simply am grateful that I had the courage and clarity about what I wanted for the rest of my life.

I separated from my husband (by choice) ten months ago, and my oldest son (who is 22) chose to live with my husband. My daughter chose to live with me (she is 19) and my youngest son (16) is with me during the week and sees his father on 3 out of 4 weekends.

When I moved out, I fled the noise and wrote a song that I originally named “When Noise Turned to Music.” In my former life, I was overwhelmed by the constant bombardment upon my senses; the television was always on in my bedroom and everyone was usually yelling to be heard, including me.

On top of that, we owned a parrot that continuously shrieked and a Chihuahua that yapped at me whenever I came near him. There was constant stress from two cats; one vomited frequently, so I constantly had to watch where I stepped. The other one urinated all over the house. I’m sure that poor creature felt stressed and was probably acting out.

I mentioned my childrens’ suffering when I began this story. One of the saddest adjustments for them was the loss of their pets; only the Chihuahua has stayed because he is my husband’s constant companion.

In order to sell our home, the two cats needed to go first. I wasn’t able to help much with finding them a new home. At the time, I had just moved out and was trying to set up a home for my two teenagers. I was also recovering from three cataract surgeries, with unrelenting complications. I tried contacting a few places that adopted cats, but had little success. Who wanted two cats that messed up a house?

My oldest son was devastated, and went to pet adoption locations every weekend. He sat all day long next to a cage with two terrified cats without a single person expressing interest in adopting them.

But after several months, my husband and son found a rescue organization that helped place those cats in a home where they could be together. It truly was a miracle. A month later, my oldest son was elated when he heard the cats had adjusted and were doing well. It was such a relief for him and for everyone in our family.

After our home sold two months ago, my husband decided to live in a small condo with another couple. He rented a room from them and put most of his possessions into storage. Initially, it was going to be temporary, but recently he decided he would stay where he is for another two years. After that, he told our children that he planned to retire and move to Mexico. That was his dream. He told them he would send them plane tickets so they could come to visit him on the beach in Acapulco.

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This picture was taken five years ago.

It’s been tough for me to watch my oldest son adjust. We were very close when my father died 15 months ago, and it was my son who found out I wanted a divorce before his father even knew.

I know that he deeply wants to be there for his father. I’m so proud of him for being so loving and devoted.

Only a few months ago, he graduated from college. Since then, it has been extremely stressful for him to find a job. He is desperate to change his circumstances and complains bitterly that he hates being dependent. There is no privacy where he lives; he sleeps on the floor sharing a room with his father.

I told him he was always welcome to live with me. He said that my coop was a palace compared to the 800 square foot apartment where he currently lived. There were even more people there on the weekend, including my youngest son.

It was ironic to hear that, because my coop only had two bedrooms. Before I moved in, I created a third bedroom for my youngest son by having a wall built to separate it from the living room.

The other half of the living room was my office and truly my living space. Recently, I bought a futon and put it in that area so my son would have a more comfortable place to sleep (instead of an air mattress) whenever he came over.

More and more, I have encouraged him to “take a break.” He was grateful for the peacefulness of my coop every time he visited. But it was clear, he did not want to hurt his father.

His unspoiled nature amazed me, but at the same time saddened me. He was joyful and so appreciative that I had frozen burritos for him in my freezer. He slept in his clothes and never complained about sleeping on the floor.

I tried to be patient, hoping his circumstances would change. At the same time, I continued to gently coax him with positive statements and encouragement. I saw my daughter blossom from her six-month paralysis after we moved, which gave me hope.

What prompted me to write today was that I wanted to tell a touching story about adjusting to change and where it could lead.

Two weeks ago, I took small steps to help my oldest son. One of the greatest stressors in his life was the parrot that he loved.

Keeping Tiki in a tiny apartment with many other people was quite challenging for him. But Tiki was his best friend and the epitome of unconditional love.

He did not want to lose the last vestige of his former life.

But pressure was mounting for my son. The neighbors where he lived were complaining about the bird’s screaming noise. The bird was often subjected to cigarette smoke and was left alone a lot of the time while my son looked for work.

I knew my son was suffering. He was required to bring the cage outside and inside every day. One night he called his father to ask “permission” to stay over at my house. He wouldn’t be home to bring the cage in that night and his dad was upset with him.

I racked my brain and convinced my son to let me help him. I found a bird store that boarded birds for $5 a day, and my son agreed that Tiki could stay there until his father moved into a new place.

That night, he brought the cage and put it out on the patio of my coop. In the morning, we planned to bring Tiki to the bird store where he would be boarded. It was that night, when I learned that my husband’s situation was not all that temporary.

Now it looked like it would be best to find Tiki a new home. My son seemed resigned to the situation. He didn’t cry or show how heartbroken he was, but I could feel his anguish.

The next day, Tiki left my son’s life.

I told the owner of the pet store that if anyone was interested in adopting Tiki, we would be grateful. The owner told me it was unlikely because Tiki was so aggressive.

Keeping him at my coop simply was not an option. Although I had showered with that bird for two years, I was reminded again how loud he was when I had him that one night. I fully expected to hear complaints from my neighbors when Tiki began screaming as the sun rose early in the morning. It reminded me of how grateful I was for the peace and quiet of my new life.

It looked like finding a home for Tiki wasn’t going to be easy. Since Conures can sell for $400, I started with an ad on Craigslist for $200 and a week later lowered it to $100. I had not a single response.

The boarding fee was going to keep adding up and most importantly, I wanted Tiki to have a good home. On a whim, I decided to list him for free.

I wrote, “Going through a divorce and Tiki needs a new home.”

I posted an adorable picture of him, which is below. I took that picture in the backyard of my former home.

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Three years ago, I wrote about Tiki when I began my blog. Here is a link to that story below:

#97 TO HAVE COURAGE OR BEAK CAREFUL

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I didn’t write that he loved to draw blood and was very aggressive; or that his screeches were worse than fingernails on a chalkboard.

I broke away from my computer to run an errand. When I came home and sat down at my computer, my jaw dropped. I’d never seen my email “inbox” with over 200 messages before!

Message after message begged to come pick up Tiki. I deleted the ad and methodically sent a copied reply to every single message. It was:

Thank you for your interest in Tiki. He unfortunately is very loud and can bite. I’ve received over 100 messages and haven’t decided yet. If I don’t find him a home by the end of this week, I’ll let you know.

Many of the messages piqued my interest. I created a folder for the best ones. There were at least fifty messages in that folder. After I sent my honest message about his character flaws, I still kept receiving messages from people wanting Tiki – they didn’t really care if he was aggressive.

Here were some of those messages:

Hello! I am interested in your little birdy. I want to provide a home for him or her she/he is so cute and gorgeous. Please let me know how we can make arrangements. Thank you!

I am very interested in your beautiful little Conure. I had one before but I gave him away to my sister to keep her company, now I am disabled and I have been looking for a parrot to keep me company, since I am home all day. I know that they need a lot of attention and I can teach him many tricks and he can learn to talk. So you can see that I will be a good match.

I’m very interested in giving Tiki a great home. I love birds as well as my mother. Please contact me for pick up. Thank u so much.

HELLO:) HOPE YOUR WELL..LOVE YOUR BIRD..IF U HAVENT FOUND A HOME..I HAVE THE PERFECT HOME 🙂 MY MOM LOST HER BIRD YEARS BACK.. I WANT TO GIFT IT TO HER..

I am very sorry about your divorce :(  You always can call and ask for him, and stop by and visit him.  No problem. You will always be #1  and I give you my word. All my family will give him a lot of love and care. 

Hello I am a vet tech student that can provide a loving caring home for this sun conure. THANKS.

WE HAVE AROUND TEN BIRDS HE WILL HAVE A GOOD HOME HERE. THANKS.

We have a ranch. My neighbors have horses, so loud is not a problem. Also we are used to bird bites. LOL, my son’s parrot does that occasionally.

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I took this picture of Tiki after our shower together.

I took this picture of Tiki after we took a shower together.–

I wanted my son to choose the best person. I was excited that he had so many choices and hoped that involving him in the process would help ease his sorrow.

When I called him and mentioned my free ad, he became irritable. He said he wasn’t rushing to do favors for strangers. I told him I’d interview and choose someone, because at that moment I changed my mind about involving him. I could see it was too painful. But he still wasn’t interested.

Then I reminded him of the boarding cost, which was a big mistake. He became angry and said, “I’ll just go pick him up right now to save you money!”

I called him back and apologized. I told him that I knew this was hard for him and I would be more patient.

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Even though I had taken down the Craigslist free ad, I kept receiving messages. I decided to send an honest message to everyone who wrote me:

I will let you know when my son is ready. He’s having a hard time with it and it’s a tough choice!

Another week went by.

My son did not visit me that week. The following week he called and said he would visit for two days.

While we were on the phone, I gently asked him if he felt ready to let go of Tiki. He surprised me and said yes; he told me he would appreciate if I picked someone.

I decided that what was most important would be finding someone who lived nearby. That way my son could visit Tiki.

I waited until the night before he came to send out a message. I wanted to be sure in case he changed his mind. That night, I sent an email to five prospects. They all lived nearby, so I asked them if I could set up a time to visit them the following day.

When my son showed up at lunchtime, it was interesting that I had not heard back from any of those five people. I was surprised considering the intensity of receiving so many messages from them earlier.

Two hours later, I realized I needed to dig deeper. It was already 2:00 p.m. and I glanced at my folder with dozens of messages. One stood out for me.

This woman mentioned she was sorry about my divorce. I liked her compassion.

She had written her phone number, so I decided I’d just call to see where she lived. She had a different area code and I thought it might be closer to where my son was living with his father.

When she answered the phone, I quickly explained why I was calling. It took almost a minute for her to connect with who I was. I told her I was the “lady with a birdy needing a new home.”

Suddenly, this woman began to scream. She was squealing and laughing and practically dropped the phone. She behaved as if she had won the lottery!

Her bubbly words spilled forth non-stop. She raved about how much love her family would give Tiki.

Over and over she exclaimed, “Thank you, Lord! Thank you, God!” In her words, everything happened in a way where God led Tiki to her. I listened and smiled; it actually was a puzzle how I had called her out of so many possibilities.

I wanted my son to hear how excited she was, and he was in the same room with me. I handed him the phone and was surprised when he began to make arrangements for her to pick up Tiki. I motioned to him and told him to wait. I wanted to find out where she lived because there were so many other good prospects.

He handed me back the phone. When she told me where she lived, my heart sank. She lived almost an hour away.

With coolness in my voice, I told her I would let her know. There were closer prospects I planned to interview and my son and I needed to think about it.

Her voice halted and quivered as she said, “Really? Are you telling me this isn’t for sure?” Her disappointment was so palpable that I thought she might start crying.

Then she began to babble again, “Please come and see where I’ll keep him. Your son can visit him anytime – I promise!”

She added, “I know God is giving me Tiki for a reason. You see my father left me when I was 5 years old. It happened when my parents divorced and I never saw him again. The only memory I have of him was his bird. It was a parrot that looked exactly like Tiki. When I saw Tiki’s picture, I was reminded of my father and knew Tiki was important in my life!”

After her story, I sighed and relented.

A few minutes later, I hung up the phone. I had given her husband directions and the whole family was on their way.

An hour later, a van with four people drove into the parking lot of my coop. My son and I came out to meet them and the plan was that they would follow us to the bird store.

The woman’s name was Connie. She ran to meet me and hugged me tightly. Her eyes were glistening.

At that moment, I knew I had made the right choice.

My son was given the royal treatment. His eyes were bright as he thanked her profusely. He told her that he only wanted Tiki to have a good home and was so glad to know she would take such good care of him.

When we arrived at the bird store, my son was excited to see Tiki because he hadn’t seen him for two weeks. Tiki danced joyfully and their reunion was beautiful to watch. I took their picture, but it came out blurry. I told my son I planned to write and share this story.

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The family paid the two-week boarding fee, and we gave them bird food.

It was finally time to say goodbye. My son put Tiki back in his cage. Before they left, we gave them all kinds of information about Tiki. We wanted to be sure they knew about his favorite snacks and ways to get him to come out of his cage.

In only a few days, my son planned to drive to their home with a larger cage that was in storage. He would borrow a friend’s pickup truck to bring it to their home. I had said to him, “They own a van, so why don’t you let them come get the cage? It would be easier for you.”

He shook his head. He wanted to see where Tiki would be living and he felt welcomed. I understood.

The best moment happened before they drove away.

Connie gripped my son’s hands and looked him right in the eyes.

She said, “We will take good care of Tiki; don’t you worry. You can take him for the weekend anytime or come for a barbecue and visit him. Tiki will always be your bird. We’re just holding him for you. When your circumstances change, you come and get him and take him home! This is temporary.”

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When she said that, I felt tears trickling down my throat.

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