myjourneysinsight

YOU’RE WITH ME – PART 2

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Judy

This post is dedicated to my father. Today would have been his eighty-ninth birthday. One year ago today, he went into a coma and died five days later. My song “With Me” was written a month after his death.

Link to performances, stories, lyrics and recordings: WITH ME

LINK TO MORE ABOUT THIS SONG:

Story behind WITH ME – PART 1

Story behind WITH ME-PART 3

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I look at the clouds and see your face

You’re watching me; smiling from space

Not sure where I’m going or when I’ll get there

But you are with me; you’re everywhere

When I’m discouraged, sometimes I crawl

You hold me up so I won’t fall

Not sure of my life now or where I will go

But you are with me; that much I know

With me, when I was born

With me as I mourn

With me in every song

You’re with me to keep me strong

With me every day

With me in every way

With me and always near

You take away all of my fear

Not sure of my future, but I’ve always known

That you are with me; I’m not alone

Though I can’t see you; you’re not in sight

Through the darkness you are my light

Not sure what will happen or how things will be

Yet I am certain, you are with me

With me, when I was born

With me as I mourn

With me in every song

You’re with me to keep me strong

With me every day

With me in every way

With me and always near

You take away the fear

With me when I cry

With me when I die

Watching my life unfold

You’re with me, as I grow old

You’re with me . . . as I grow old

–

My parents’ wedding portrait from 1950.

My parents gave me so much love and I still can feel it.

Oh dad, how quickly this year has gone by since your death. I can easily picture that moment when you died. You opened your eyes and I watched as your soul was lifted to God.

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I was so blessed to have such a loving father as you. With mom’s dementia, we became close and were a comfort to each other.

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I hated that you suffered so much. Even though you were in terrible pain, you were always worried about me. I miss having you there to worry about me. But on the other hand, I am very relieved that you are not here worrying about me!

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I waited until you were gone to end my marriage; we talked about it and you completely supported me. But it was best that you did not witness my transition; it would have caused you great distress.

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I loved sharing all of my excitement with you about my journey. At first you were skeptical, but later on you really had so much faith in me. You even listened to many of my audio stories and gave me feedback. I’m sorry that it was painful for you to listen to some of my stories. You said you could not bear hearing about my grief and suffering.

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Dad, I still feel blanketed by your love. I look at clouds and imagine you watching me. If I close my eyes, I can hear your voice. When I cry, I feel your tears raining upon me from above.

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I stay positive because I prefer for you to beam from heaven instead of crying.

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You are with me always.

–

Judy & Lee 2

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Things I wish I could tell my father:

Dad, I have been very careful not to let eggshells fall into the sink. You always told me not to put them in the garbage disposal because they turn into sand and cause problems.

I’ve tried hard to continue to grow my fingernails. You were so thrilled about that. Recently, I have had a few lapses where I’ve bitten them, but I’m certain I will overcome this.

I’m sorry we didn’t eat at IHOP (Pancake House) the week before you died. When you started to cry about it, I told you that it was easier to go to a different restaurant that day. I know you wanted me to find ways to make my life easier and I hoped you’d get over it. Now I regret it very much, especially because you went into a coma on your birthday.

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Dad, you always raved about the eye surgeon who did cataract surgery on both you and mom. I knew you would have been happy knowing he did my cataract surgery, too. Only a few months after you died, I had my surgery.

I told this doctor how much you worshipped him before he operated on me. Even though he was an excellent surgeon, I know that if you were alive you would be very aggravated about my current situation.

Dad, I still carry your favorite “sand pillow” in my car. You wanted me to have it for you when you went to the dentist. Yesterday, I had an appointment and memories came back to me of us going together to that dentist shortly before you died.

You were in so much pain that day and still grateful that I took you to that appointment. You were elated just to be with me, even if it was going to the dentist!

I try not to correct other people by telling them to say “well” instead of “good.” I wish I felt well, and I try hard to stay positive because you loved me so much.

You would be proud that I am working on an illustration assignment.

And when I spent an hour dealing with Medi-Cal issues for mom yesterday, I could feel your sympathy. I heard you say, “Don’t deal with it, cut back!”

Unfortunately, I must deal with many things related to mom’s care. It is amazing the way she clings to life and I am blessed that she is comfortable and not in pain.

Thank you for leaving enough money to pay for her companion, Miriam.

–

The sale on my former house is going through. Thankfully, it came just in time so that there will be money for me to buy the coop and have funds to pay Miriam.

Your grandson misses you so much. He treasures the coin collection you gave to him and talks about it all the time. He tells me that he tries not to chew on ice and stands up straighter because he hears your voice. I hear those things, too.

His college graduation is tomorrow. You were trying hard to stay alive to see that day. I know you’ll be sitting right there with us. It is because of you that my son is who he is today. He has grieved you deeply and I remind him that you wouldn’t want him to be sad.

I wish there was some way that my brothers could reunite. I wish I could do more, but honestly I’m incapable right now. If you were still alive, you could not bear this – I know.

I realize now that you planned for me to live at your coop. Thank you, dad. You continue to take care of me from heaven.

–

© 2014 by Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, comfort while grieving, composing, dad died, death of a father, father's death, father's illness, grief, GRIEF RELATED, grieving a dad, grieving a father, grieving my dad, guitar, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, Music, original songs, singing, songwriting, with me, writing | 2 Comments

MY TEARS I HIDE

Posted on May 17, 2013 by Judy

The princess considered her music a “magical elixir.” It swirled around her like a soft blanket of comfort; it was indeed enchanting the way it soothed her soul.

Music was her true companion; it was such a special friend. Sometimes, she even envisioned a musical fairy dancing around her. The fairy’s name was Melody and God had sent this beautiful fairy to help her.

Melody was very attached to the princess and thankful that she could ease all of the princess’s sorrow. One day, God told Melody that the princess would face even more challenges. Melody wept because she wasn’t sure the princess could overcome sadness anymore.

For the past month, Melody had stayed close to the princess. She was so relieved that the princess was slowly lifting herself off the ground. Most of the time, the princess stayed positive and treasured the many wonderful aspects of her new life.

She did not miss the dragon and soon he would be leaving their castle. Their castle held many memories; sad ones, as well as happy ones. Now the castle had sold, and the princess realized that she never even bid it farewell.

It was too much for her to think about. For the moment, she decided that she far preferred her tiny cottage; to her it was paradise. She did have smaller dragons to deal with. At times it made her crazy, but she maintained her sense of humor. Her children were destined to be princes and princesses and she hoped that one day they would discover that.

She had dispelled a great deal of her sadness. The webs in her eye were still there, but she focused on other things.

But the spider named Sadness had other ideas. One night, she crept into the princess’s bed. The princess awoke to discover that suddenly webs were completely obscuring vision in the eye she relied on.

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At first, she was incredulous. But then, the princess went into deep despair. All she could do was cry and grieve the vision she once had. She withdrew in sadness. The white spider had succeeded.

Melody alighted upon the princess and gently tried to lift her spirits. The princess’s lip trembled and her voice was shaky as she tried to continue singing. Melody swirled notes around the princess as the princess closed her eyes. Even though the webs were unbearable, Melody wove her magic within the webs as she cried along with her.

Once upon a time, the Princess began a journey to touch many people. Now the princess could barely remember when she was joyful. Her ocean of tears had returned.

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Melody embraced the princess so tightly. The princess would journey with Melody and a white spider named Sadness for now.

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Email message to a friend:

Yesterday, I had a big disturbance in my GOOD eye. Just like what happened to my left eye in January, the gel separated from the eye wall in my right eye. There are large areas of blurriness (from blood) and dark floaters everywhere on both eyes now. I am very discouraged. This is even harder and I am overwhelmed!

Today, I happen to have an appointment to see my eye surgeon. I waited three weeks for this appointment and it was to deal with dryness and inflammation – not this! I want to scream and cry. I hope I can hold it together.

I feel like I am walking through life with a filthy windshield now. All of my words to help other people with grief now apply to me. I hate this situation but have no alternatives.

It is very hard focus on anything. Thank god, for the music that is helping me now.

Message to a tennis friend: (my words are in blue)

I am having MORE problems with my eyes. I had another episode of bleeding inside my good eye. I’m very discouraged and do not feel like playing tennis tomorrow. I’ll play if you can’t find anyone – but I am definitely not in a good place.

My friends reply:

I don’t have another player but what can I say if you don’t want to play???

I’ll be there. I’m just having a tough time. But playing is probably good for me, even if my eyes are crummy. I have acuity, but not clarity. It’s hard to explain. I’m not blind, but I hate what is going on!

The next day, I drove to play tennis. I hardly had slept the night before. My mind crackled on and on; like a radio blaring it was noisy. I could hear my own audio stories with words that loudly echoed through my mind. I was thinking about my story named Grief 101. There was a part where I stated my true feelings about grief. I was angry with God and said: “How could you give me this amazing gift and then take it away!”

My eyesight could not possibly be comparable to my dead son, but I was grief-stricken. How would I live with this situation? What was my alternative? As I drove, I concentrated so as to drive safely. But blurriness and shadows were swirling everywhere. Later in the day, I would see my eye surgeon. However, I knew that there was nothing he would be able to do to help my vision. Seeing him was awkward. He felt he had done his part. He was an excellent surgeon and my cataract surgery was considered successful. Unfortunately, I had so many complications, which were probably a result of my extreme nearsightedness.

I openly sobbed as I drove. This was too much! I put on music to soothe myself and heal my pain. But still, pain and sadness were shooting through every fiber of my being.

The last thing I wanted to be doing was to be playing tennis at a country club. My Friday game was normally played at a backyard tennis court. But today it had been scheduled at this club because our usual court wasn’t available. I hoped I wouldn’t see anyone I knew. I wore dark glasses and held back tears as I exited my car.

My body was heavy and I felt very vulnerable as I held my racquet. I began warming up and was grateful that I could still hit the tennis balls with my annoying eyesight. This was certainly better for me than hiding in my apartment.

After a short while, I decided it was actually a beautiful day. I closed my eyes and felt a soft breeze. I inhaled the aroma of chaparral from the nearby hillside. Perhaps life could still be decent, even if my vision stayed this way. I was determined to find a way.

I was introduced to another woman player who was filling in for our group. When I told her I was going through a divorce, I didn’t want her to feel sorry for me. I quickly let her know it was my choice and briefly shared my story. Then she said, “Well you must be happy about your decision, because there is definitely a glow coming from you.”

I was surprised to hear that. I didn’t feel like there was any glow about me. I accepted her words and was pleased that despite my pain I could still smile.

The two hours went by and as soon as it was over, I fled to my car. I needed my music to soothe me immediately. I was in an emotional crisis because I began crying again.

But playing tennis was excellent information for me. My eyesight was acceptable because I could still hit a tennis ball. I had actually played fairly well and that amazed me.

–

Later that day, I had an appointment with the ophthalmologist who had done my three cataract surgeries. Just as I expected, he explained to me that no treatment existed for annoying floaters; eventually I would get used to them. He examined my retinas, and they were intact; I was grateful about that. He did say that my dryness and inflammation could be treated with another eye drop medication. I left with a prescription. He said it would take at least several weeks before I would notice any improvement. His last words were, “Do not call me for another appointment until at least six weeks go by!”

I walked to my car with my eyes still dilated. My discomfort was so intense, that I began to cry again as I drove home. I stopped crying once I put on my music. Over and over, I thanked god for my musical elixir.

It was clear to me. My annoying eyesight was sucking the joy out of my life.

It made it difficult for me to concentrate and to do many things. It gave me headaches, especially when I was doing artwork. But I could still draw. I could drive. I could still work with my computer and play tennis. How fortunate I was!

My greatest challenge was to find my joy again. I suffered for so many years with grief, and was a zombie for decades after that. My journey had brought me boundless joy. Now I was sad and grieving for my former eyesight!

The insight from this was profound. Perhaps God had another message for me, since the word “insight” includes sight!

Grief is part of life.

In an instant, we can lose something that we take for granted. Time might heal, but moves slowly when you are in pain.

No one else can truly know of our pain unless they are also living with it. I do maintain hope that I will feel better soon, but at this moment I am simply putting one foot in front of the other.

–

This fairy statue captured my eye during a recent voice lesson with my teacher, Kimberly.

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

Tagged acoustic guitar, cataract surgery, cataract surgery complications, Cataracts when in fifties, composing, creativity, Daily Life, deep despair, eye gel separation, eyegel separation, eyesight issues, floaters, grief, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, inspiration, loss, magical elixir, Music, overcoming challenges, Posterior Vitreous Detachment, princes and princesses, Princess and the Dragon, princess metaphors, singing, songwriting, the princess and the dragon, true companion | 4 Comments

YOU WERE THERE – PART 3

Posted on May 10, 2013 by Judy

A VIDEO TRIBUTE TO MY MOM:

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Click the blue links below to hear my song:

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YOU WERE THERE

All my life, every day; you were there when I’d need you

all the time, I just knew; you’d be there

and you’d see me through

I’ve always known, I’m not alone . . .

You were so strong; you’d pick me up when I’d fall down

so I can see all the strength you gave me

Although I try, it’s hard to say goodbye

to someone who’s loved me all of my life

and when I’m sad, because you’re not there

I’ll still see your love everywhere

Everything that I did you’d applaud; you were right there watching me

as I grew, sharing joy and my heartache, too

I always knew, that I had you . . .

Now I’m so strong; I picked you up when you fell down

I’ve learned to see just how strong I could be

Although I try, it’s hard to say goodbye

to someone who’s loved me all of my life

and when I’m sad, because you’re not there

I’ll still see your love everywhere

When you are gone, I’ll say a prayer

and I’ll remember how you were there

This picture of my mother and I was taken outside the coop where I am now living.

This picture of my mother and I was taken in the patio of the coop where I am now living. I see my old bicycle in the background.

My father saved a lot of my childhood artwork. I remembered drawing many of these pictures.

This picture is of my mother when she was young. It looks a little strange due to a photographer’s poor retouching. But my mother still looks very beautiful.

I took many pictures of my mother and I holding hands two years ago. I wanted them so I could create a song cover for “You Were There.” Sadly, my mother has had a terrible nail fungus for two years and her hands do not look like this any more.

Late at night, I allowed myself to edit the vocals that I continued to record. Mother’s Day was right around the corner and I was facing the one-year anniversary of my father’s death. For those reasons, I concentrated on two songs; one was for my mother and the other for my father.

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Memories of their love had me very connected to both songs. I found it beautiful how I was able to channel my emotions into singing.

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Ever since my father died, I became closer to my two older brothers. Both of them lived nearby. It was comforting knowing that they cared about me.

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But sadly, my two brothers were not communicating with each other. I was grateful to have both of them, but sad about their rift and my fractured family.

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Every Thursday, I had lunch with my middle brother, my mother, my nephew and my mother’s companion, Miriam.

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On Saturdays, I met my older brother and sister-in-law for lunch with Miriam and my mother. Sometimes, a grandchild joined us.

My brother, Howard, is on my left and Norman is on my right. This was taken 13 years ago at my 40th birthday party.

It was Thursday, and I dashed out the door to pick up Miriam and my mother at the nursing home. As I drove, I enjoyed listening to the new vocals that I had been concentrating on all week. I had only finished assembling revised vocal lines at 1 a.m. I wanted to make sure that I hadn’t made any mistakes putting them together when it was so late at night.

But everything sounded great. I always heard things that I wanted to fix, but had to let go of it. I didn’t have time now to fiddle with every song when I had so many to work on. Editing a vocal line probably required at least ten hours for me.

As I listened to my songs on the freeway, my heart was dancing. A few tears escaped and lightly streamed down my cheeks.

I realized that I was glad to be seeing my mother. I couldn’t believe that she was still on this earth. How lucky I was to be able to have lunch with her! I had looked for a Mother’s Day card to give her and my heart ached searching for a card that I knew she couldn’t read. But Miriam would read it aloud to her and display it on her nightstand at the nursing home.

Sadly, my mother’s dementia continued to advance. She became thinner because her memory of chewing and swallowing had faded. Pureed food became necessary, and gelatin had to be added to any liquids.

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But she clearly lived for these lunch outings. On good days, she smiled broadly. However, most of time now she was very quiet. When she did try to talk, her words made no sense. Often during these lunches, everyone simply talked as if she wasn’t there. I wondered what she could process and if she was aware of what was going on around her.

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Something was definitely keeping her going.

Miriam was waiting for me in the parking lot of the nursing home as I drove up. She pushed my mother’s wheelchair next to my car. I noticed how my mother’s body was in a contorted position and she looked skeletal. In order to get into my car, my mother needed to stand; it was a herculean effort for her.

After Miriam strapped her in, I leaned across my car so I could kiss my mother. There was no doubt that she knew it was me. Whenever I drew close, her eyes beamed with love.

It was clear that my mother was quite exhausted from getting into my car. She began to cough and her spasms were deep; she was rattling with congestion. I reminded myself to call the charge nurse later and check to see if she was receiving breathing treatments.

We arrived at our usual restaurant, and I took a seat. My brother and nephew were waiting for us. I glanced around to look for a certain waitress. In my purse, I had a CD for her. A few weeks earlier, I had told her about my music on my blog. The following week, she warmly hugged me and told me that she had enjoyed reading my stories and listening to my songs. I was touched.

It was always helpful for me to connect with other people by sharing. It gave me a sense of purpose and fueled my journey.

It was interesting though that my middle brother had never heard any of my music. I was hesitant to share a CD with him – I decided it was probably because I didn’t want to impose upon his time. I knew he considered my music and writing a “hobby.”

As I sat looking at my mother across from me, my thoughts drifted. I decided that this was probably my last Mother’s Day with her. It just didn’t seem possible for her to continue this way.

Our lunch went by quickly. My eyes hurt and I closed them whenever possible. I sang in my mind and it relaxed me. I was also preparing myself for the recording session I had in two hours.

Whenever I sang, I was uplifted. I loved connecting with my vocal cords; the sensation was amazing and completely new for me. Singing brought me joy; I even connected with god. Life was great because I had music.

My mother’s cough seemed worse than usual, and it was time to go. I said goodbye to the wonderful people working at the restaurant and hugged my brother and nephew.

Because of my mother’s fatigue, she was unable to stand up in order to get into my car. Miriam ended up lifting her out of her wheelchair like a rag doll. My mother grunted as she collapsed into the front seat.

On a whim, I asked Miriam to take a few pictures of my mother sitting next to me in my car. It didn’t concern me that I had not spent one iota of time on my appearance. I only wished I had thought of it earlier, before my mother became so tired.

As I drove back to the nursing home, I was excited to share my new vocal for “You Were There” with my mother and Miriam. I plugged my iPod into my car’s audio system. For over ten years, my old mini-van did not have a working radio. Now that I was leasing a new car, I loved listening to music and as a result, I really enjoyed driving.

The notes of “You Were There” began to fill my car and all of my sadness dissipated. My heart was bursting with joy.

I looked over at my mother and her eyes were closed. Then I turned around to look at Miriam in the backseat. Miriam was mouthing the words to my song. I could see her eyes were glistening in the sunlight.

We were at a stoplight and I felt compelled to lean close to my mother so I could whisper in her ear. I said, “This song is for you mom. Every word is absolutely true!” I was surprised when she lightly nodded.

A moment later, we arrived at the nursing home. Miriam jumped out and I popped the trunk so she could take out my mother’s portable wheelchair.

My song was almost over. It softly ended with violin strings playing the last note. I gently unbuckled my mother’s seatbelt and she opened her eyes.

“I loved seeing you for lunch, mom.” Then I asked her, “Did you like my song?”

Her lips softly moved. Her words were clear and soft. I was stunned. I felt waves of emotion sweep through me.

Miriam pushed my mother’s wheelchair through the gate and they disappeared.

Like sweet notes of wind chimes, what my mother had clearly spoken aloud continued to reverberate through my mind.

Over and over, I heard her whispered words.

“I like it. It’s beautiful.”

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Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Aging Parents, Caregiving, composing, creativity, dementia, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, healing music, I picked you up, inspiration, Judy Unger, loss, love for a mother, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother, mother daughter relationship, Mother's Day tribute, mother's illness, Mother's love, Music, optimism, Ordinary Life, original songs, singing, songwriting, tribute to my mother, You Were There | 5 Comments

MY DREAM STILL GLOWS

Posted on May 2, 2013 by Judy

Below is a blue link to my story about this song:

Story behind MY DREAM

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Currently, I am creating many fruit illustrations for a line of yogurt labels.

It felt strange not to check the box that said “married” when I filled out this form a few weeks ago.

THE PRINCESS AND THE FOG

As the Princess continued her journey, she sometimes wondered how she stayed so strong. She didn’t rely on anyone; she marveled at her strength and determination. What she loved most was that she had not an iota of regret for choosing to follow her heart.

A few months earlier, the Princess emerged from a tunnel into blinding sunlight. But the brilliance quickly faded into darkness. The Princess was able to avoid the holes in her landscape and stayed positive because love continued to light her way. Gradually the inky blackness turned to gray and then the sky became white.

It was then that she noticed a fog had rolled in . . .

The fog was wispy at first, but soon it surrounded her in every direction.

The Princess hated to complain. Despite her awareness that worrying sucked away her energy, she began to wonder if the fog would ever lift. It was extremely annoying. She reminded herself that there was no hurry for her to get to any destination, because she loved where she was going. In her heart, she knew how valuable she was. She loved her journey.

Despite the fog, it was easy for the princess to have faith. When many gold coins suddenly fell in front of her path, it was something she never expected. Material items were unimportant for her, and yet this came at a time when her debt was overwhelming her. She believed there was definitely a message to find with those coins.

But then the fog began to hurt her eyes; and it wasn’t just annoying anymore. The Princess realized she was truly alone, as the fog separated her from a familiar world.

It wasn’t hard for her to be alone, she was just so discouraged by the pain. So she looked at her journey in the fog as an opportunity to find even more clarity.

Her eyes were half closed and she did not have much energy as she gritted her teeth and continued to move forward. Tears spilled down her cheeks easily.

Then the fog began to dance and she felt extreme heaviness. Spider webs appeared in her eyes and she felt her body slowing down. It was exhausting. Now there were silken webs tightening around her feet and pulling with each step. She tried to move, but instead she softly fell to the ground.

Her painful eyes were like slits. She heard a voice and through her half-closed eyes she saw a white spider grinning and cackling at her. The spider was speaking. It’s voice was very familiar and sounded like an old woman.

The Princess asked the spider, “Why are you here?”

The spider answered, “My dear, I am joining you and I know you remember me. There was a time when we spent all of our time together for many, many years.”

The Princess was weak and did not want to answer. But she asked the white spider, “What is your name?”

The spider tiptoed and whispered into the princess’s ear while she was still lying prone on the ground.

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“My name is Sadness. Let’s travel together. While I am with you, we can even find many of those old memories that I am a part of.”

The princess felt her eyes glaze over. She was tired of crying and pulling at the webs. It was nice not to be alone anymore. She rested with Sadness and did not move for a long time.

But then the princess began to miss her musical elixir. She softly sang to herself and could feel her soul glowing with pleasure.

–

Magically, the webs surrounding her body began to melt away.

She ignored the spider on the ground as she stood up.

The white spider began to shriek, “You cannot do that – I am here to stay with you. You have no reason to push me away. I want to keep you company!”

The Princess smiled. She was relieved that she had not lost her ability to smile or sing. She ripped off the remaining webs that bound her and watched them float away. The magical elixir of music continued to fill her heart.

Now that she had vanquished the spider, she was even more certain of her strength. She sang loudly and freely and beamed with an inner glow.

Although her exterior felt ravaged by circumstances, inside she felt quite beautiful. Her appearance might not be sparkling, but that was unimportant for her because she knew it was temporary.

She remained thankful for so many things, but especially to God for giving her the musical elixir to help her. God even blessed her with gold coins to make her journey easier.

There was no reason to stop in the fog. It would lift someday. Until then, sadness would never be her companion again.

And with her music, she was never alone.

–

Recent email update to my family and friends:

This has been a most difficult time in my life. My eye problems have continued. A month ago I had a laser treatment called a capsulotomy, which treats a common cataract complication. It caused my vision to become clearer, but also left me with more noticeable floaters. I was told that was temporary.

After the procedure, my eyes continued bothering me. I could not shake the feeling that something was inside my eyes; it worsened and became painful. It was like I had spider webs in my eyes! I called my surgeon’s office. The receptionist from the ophthalmology department told me over the phone that it sounded like dryness and I needed to simply use artificial tears. I have been disappointed with the treatment I’ve received since my cataract surgery. When I was told that there were no appointments available, I found myself crying on the phone. Due to my insistence, I was given an appointment to see an optometrist instead.

At that appointment, I was told that my eyelids and tear ducts were inflamed. Steroid eye drops were prescribed and I was told to see my eye surgeon in 3 weeks.

In the meantime, I continue to work on a wonderful illustration project. I am thankful that I can easily see my large computer screen, however, working has certainly made the dryness in my eyes much worse.

My project is going well and is a godsend to my life. So far, my layouts have been well received. I am illustrating fruit, which is my specialty.

There are so many wonderful things in my life that I am grateful for. My daughter found a job, my oldest son is graduating college and my youngest son did an amazing job performing in a play at his new school.

The sale of my former home fell through and now a second buyer is having difficulty getting a loan. It will be two weeks before we will know if this sale will go through. I am not terribly affected by this, but I am concerned about the effect on my son and former husband. I trust that things will work out. If this sale does not go through, our home might sell for even more because the marketplace is excellent at the moment.

Music is still an IV for my soul. Even though I work long hours illustrating, I take breaks to sing and record several times a week. I have already recorded vocals for 24 songs and have 14 left. My voice teacher, Kimberly Haynes, continues to help me sing freely with a great connection to my vocal chords. Also, once a week I work on song arrangements with my arranger George.

My divorce will probably become final around the end of the year. I hope you are well and appreciate all of the support you have given me.

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Love, Judy

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I am so thankful for my mother’s companion, Miriam, who keeps my mother smiling. I feel very close to her, because she has made such a difference to our family with her devotion to my mother.