JUST ANOTHER NIGHTMARE

A picture taken a year ago during one of our monthly dinners.

Story following up two years later regarding my friend, Marilyn:

#557 WE HAD TO SAY GOODBYE

sup·port (transitive verb) and (noun)

 

Keep something or somebody stable, bear weight, give active help and encouragement, help in crisis, and give assistance or comfort

 

Many years ago, I learned that support groups were beneficial. There were definitely some aspects that weren’t pleasant, but the connections I formed from my willingness to find people with similar circumstances have stayed with me.

 

Ten years ago, I participated in a weekend retreat called “Healing the Mother’s Heart. At that time, I was struggling with challenges related to my children. I met a wonderful group of women after that weekend. I came home with a roster and somehow I ended up becoming the planner for our first reunion. At that time, I was excited when I discovered how to create my first email group on a computer.

 

My story about that retreat is at: #24 MY RETREAT FROM WITHDRAWAL TO REFUGE

 

There were twenty women at our first dinner, and we even passed out nametags for that first gathering. Gradually, the group shrunk and by then we all knew each other’s names.

 

It was incredible that after ten years, our group continued to meet every month. My friendship was solid with the 6-8 women who remained. There were beautiful memories formed when we occasionally went away for an entire weekend. We all cherished the respite from our stressful lives and watched our children grow up over those ten years.

 

Of course, there were challenges faced by all of us, but none seemed as disheartening as Marilyn’s current struggles. For over two years, she had battled perplexing health issues. Most of them seemed to be related to a thyroid disorder; and she was quite a trooper. But then came a diagnosis that was horrifying. She said that it helped her to make sense of the myriad of symptoms she had suffered with for so long.

 

She had bone cancer, multiple myeloma. Within a month, she could hardly walk because the bones in her hip had significantly deteriorated.

 

I wanted to make sure that Marilyn was at every dinner. Because she could not drive anymore, all of the dinners were planned close to Marilyn’s home. She lived half an hour away from everyone else.

 

I often carpooled to those monthly dinners with another upbeat mom named Lynn. My friend and I worried so much about Marilyn, and often looked for ways to lift Marilyn up.

 

Last weekend, things really did not bode well for our group. I received a text message from Lynn that her husband had been diagnosed with an aggressive form of cancer. It was unbelievable and shocking.

 

Her 42-year-old husband was a picture of health. He had no symptoms, other than a small lump on his neck. Right away, she knew “carcinoma” told her it was serious. Lynn told me that looking up his form of cancer on the Internet showed a very bleak prognosis.

 

Her message came when she was driving to meet me for a weekend get-away. She and her family would be joining me and another mother. Lynn wrote, “This might be the last time we can get away for a while.”

 

I visited Lynn’s hotel room later on that night. Her husband had openly cried earlier. Their two young children were very quiet and subdued.

 

My friend was in a place of horror. Within a moment her life had changed forever. The complacency of living without fully appreciating one’s health can evaporate in an instant.

 

She and her husband were facing the worse case scenario. She felt that at best, the cancer would be advanced Stage 2. In a few days, they would know. Her husband would be having a scan to determine whether the tumor had spread. She said, “If it’s in his lungs or brain, he’s a goner.”

 

Her husband mentioned that his chest had been hurting; his face was ashen and contorted with worry.

 

The scan would be on Wednesday and results were not expected until later in the week. He would need surgery and possibly lose part of his tongue. It would be very painful. The primary tumor might not even be found, and if that happened – it would not bode well for his chances of survival.

 

Telling my friend or her husband not to worry seemed useless. I could not know at all what they were going through. So during that weekend get-away, I held Lynn’s hand and listened. She and her husband disappeared for an hour while I stayed with their two children and practiced my guitar.

 

The next day after I came home, Lynn sent me a text message. It read: “I was going to attend this support group that is specifically for oropharyngeal cancer, but it would be too hard for my husband to go. He’s so fragile right now. I think we’ll wait until the following month. We’re not up to hearing other people’s horror stories.”

 

I sent her a message back instantly. I wrote, “I’ll go with you.”

 

She wrote that she would wait until the following month.

I wrote, “Don’t wait, you might make connections and gain valuable information.”

 

My friend decided to call a facilitator of the group to find out more information. She was elated to discover that the meeting she might have missed was a special night with a guest who would discuss the benefits of diet for cancer patients.

 

Lynn sent me a message thanking me and said she would take me up on my offer to go with her. It was a topic she definitely was interested in.

 

On Thursday, we had our monthly dinner. Marilyn used a walker instead of crutches. Marilyn had been in the hospital the week before. But that night, she looked radiant and relaxed. She was my hero and inspired me to live every day of my life with joy and appreciation.

 

Lynn then broke the news to all the other moms. Her husband had his scan on Wednesday and the doctor called back that very same day. The primary tumor had been found and it was on her husband’s tonsils. Although it had spread to a few lymph nodes, there were no other tumors found. His brain and lungs were clear.

 

She said, “We are prepared for this fight. It will be tough but it is not unbeatable. We are celebrating the beautiful news we just received.”

 

It was so touching when she shared that her coworkers, who were all struggling teachers, had pooled money together to buy her a $400 juicer. My friend’s passion for creating healthy smoothies to cure her husband, extended to bringing another blender in a box to give Marilyn. With it, she included many recipes. Prior to our dinner, she poured a smoothie for Marilyn, which she had prepared before leaving.

Lynn’s husband is holding his new blender.

 

Lynn and Marilyn didn’t see me wipe tears away from my eyes during our dinner.

 

I prepared myself to attend an oropharyngeal cancer support group a few days later.

 

   

 

This picture was from a weekend get-away that was seven years ago.

I shared this story with Diane Simon Smith who was the facilitator at the retreat where my Special Mom’s Group all started. I received this message back from her, which I’d like to share:

 

 

Hi Judy,

 

Thank you so much for sharing your beautiful writing with me.  I am so moved by your telling of this very special group of women, which YOU have been so instrumental in keeping together.  These connections are precisely what I hoped to prime when doing the retreat.  I am also so very sorry to hear about Marilyn and Lynn’s struggles. Please give them big hugs for me.  Do you have mailing addresses for them? 

 

I know that the decision you have made to divorce has not come easily.  You are embarking on a new chapter of your life.  I wish you all the best and I know you will always be sustained by your friendships, your music and your writing.

 

You are a very brave, loving woman.

 

Thank you sharing with me.

 

Warm regards,

Diane

Mom's dinner update

February 2016

My title for this post was written to convey the shock – when life goes from being normal to becoming a horror. Those words are a lyric line from my song “Saying Goodbye,” and express the feelings I had after my child died.

I am adding this update to my post from three years ago. I realize that anyone reading this older post might wonder what the outcome was for Lynn’s husband and my friend, Marilyn.

Marilyn did well for two years and this past year she has taken a turn for the worse. Her bone cancer has wickedly returned and she is trying new and experimental drug treatments at this time.

I can share that Lynn and her husband are celebrating that he has been in remission for two years now. His odds for survival continue to get better with the passage of time.

Her husband is back in shape now, although he cannot run like he did before. His taste buds and salivary glands are impaired and the effects from his treatment are permanent. But both he and Lynn are so grateful for his survival despite this.

During his treatment, Lynn stepped up to make a huge decision. Her husband was wasting away because he had great difficulty swallowing due to radiation near his throat where the tumor was. He had lost 60 pounds within a few months and could not even sit for a few minutes without falling down due to his weakened condition.

Lynn told him to agree to a feeding tube or she would have to fight to get a court order for one. He weakly agreed and that night she called his doctor to set up the procedure quickly. 

She is certain that feeding tube saved his life.

Even though the horror of his chemo treatments and radiation seem to be in the past, Lynn would easily admit that life would never be the same as it was before cancer invaded their lives.

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2012. 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. 

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ANOTHER YOU – PART 3

Clicking the blue links below will play my song:

ANOTHER YOU #3 INSTRUMENTAL

ANOTHER YOU-5/3/15 Copyright 2015 by Judy Unger

My world was becoming blurrier and when I wore glasses I often felt like I was on the other side of a dirty window. I wished I could just open that window! I never liked wearing glasses and could hardly see out of them. On Friday, I played tennis with glasses on for the first time in my life. My perception was so altered that I could not get my serves to go in. As ball after ball looped out, I laughed and then cursed.

 

Inside, I wished that it were time to go home.

 

Occasionally, I felt overwhelming sadness but I countered it with the joy I received when hearing my music. Sometimes, I pretended I was a conductor and swung my arms through the air while listening to my newest song recording. I played it over and over, as often as I could. When I wasn’t physically listening, I could still hear the song’s beautiful notes resonating through me.

 

I had wanted an arrangement of my song “Another You” that truly captured my emotion. It was one of the first songs I arranged with George and although I did a second version – neither one moved me. But now, my newest version of “Another You” was so sweet that I felt tears well up when listening to it. I had composed “Another You” when I was 19 for my friend, Cheryl, when we were both in college.

 

The timing was interesting; Cheryl’s birthday was in August and I always thought of her then. Five years had gone by since she died of breast cancer. This year, she would have been 53. It was time for me to call her mother; an anniversary of the heart was the perfect time to let her mom know how Cheryl was still deep within my heart.

 

I had promised Cheryl that I would always stay in touch with her mother. The last time I had called, her mother was definitely discouraged about life. I was concerned about her and hoped things had improved since the last time we spoke.

 

As I was thinking about making that call, my daughter knocked on my door. She had her best friend visiting her; she had known her most of her life. Seeing their joy was so beautiful that it caused a lump to form in my throat.

 

After my daughter went out of the room, it was very quiet. I was sad and suddenly heard Cheryl’s voice in my mind. I always loved hearing Cheryl’s voice and realized I missed her so much.

 

She said, “Oh Judy, I am so sorry for what you are going through. I can feel your sadness and loneliness.” With her words, tears began to pour from my eyes. The droplets swelled and then cascaded down to my neck. I closed my eyes and tried to regain my composure. She was right; I was lonely. It occurred to me that there was no person I really enjoyed spending time with anymore. I simply preferred to be alone. I wondered if it would always be that way.

 

But then, Cheryl’s words were like a warm and comforting hug. She spoke softly and said, “Jude, you will have beautiful days again. I know it and you know it, too. It will be with someone who adores and understands you. But more than that, you will feel joyful and time will be precious with that person. When that happens, you will remember my words. The memory of love never leaves.”

 

I began to cry softly. My chest heaved silently and I shook. I believed her.

Traveling back in time – 32 years ago. Clicking on this makes it larger.

A few days later, I called Cheryl’s mother, Blanch. I was relieved when she answered the phone. There was a lot of catching up to do. I shared many things with her and she was supportive. It was interesting for me to hear that she was not surprised about my impending divorce; she said she knew I had been unhappy for a long time.

I loved hearing that Cheryl’s children were doing beautifully; her oldest daughter had recently become engaged. It was one of those “life moments” and I felt a pang imagining what it meant for Cheryl to be gone from her daughter’s life.

 

I hadn’t realized that Blanch had recently celebrated a milestone birthday – she was 90 years old and her family had made her a party. Before I hung up, I let her know that Cheryl was always in my heart. Blanch said she knew I had called because Cheryl’s birthday was approaching.

 

Blanch said she wanted to give me some advice. I listened as she said, “You know, I never want to bring any of my family down. So I hide my tears and cry when I’m alone. It’s very important to go on living and protect those you love from the sadness.”

 

Of course, I understood that well. I had survived that way and eventually the tears stopped. Yet looking back, living in a zombie mode wasn’t really living – but it was certainly better than feeling the anguish.

 

I told Blanch that I never expected I would find so much joy through my music and writing.

 

And Cheryl would always be with me, too.

A picture of Cheryl during one of our sleepovers – I love these cute pajamas!

Cheryl was my maid of honor when I got married.

I met Cheryl at a college retreat named BCI. I am playing my guitar in this picture for a performance during that retreat.

This picture is with two other good friends, Janet on the left and Linda in the center.

I remember when this picture was taken. It was after my bridal shower at Cheryl’s house.

This picture was taken during a family vacation in Carpinteria. Cheryl and I were 19 at that time.

 ANOTHER YOU

Copyright 2010 by Judy Unger

 

Here I am writing to you,

When I know you’ve heard these words before

now there’s so much more,

And it’s mostly left unsaid

And here I am singing to you,

When I know that you’ve heard every song

But this one is lifelong; the music is forever

 

I know if I search my whole life through

I’ll never find another you

I could search and search my memories, too

I’ll never find, I’ll never find another you

 

Here I am dreaming of you

Wishing I could tell you so many things

But then the memory brings a smile

And you are with me now

Here I am shining to you

And I can’t believe what’s happened to me

All the joy is there to see

and what you would have wanted

 

I know if I search my whole life through

I’ll never find another you

I could search and search my memories, too

And I’ll never find, I’ll never find another you

I’ll never find another you

Even if I search my whole life through

I’ll never find another you

Even if I search my whole life through

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2012. 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.

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WITH ME – PART 1

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

WITH ME

Copyright 2015 by Judy Unger

– 

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 what will happen 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; 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

– 

 –

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

Through the darkness, you are my light

Not sure of my life now 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 my 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

In this video stapshot with my dad, I’m probably six-years-old.

I wrote the sentence “you’ve left my sight” in my song “Set You Free” to imply departure, not necessarily death. I wanted my song “With Me” to also relate to God, so I changed the line to “you’re not in sight.” That way it simply meant he was “unseen.”

Only a few weeks after my father’s death, I composed a new song, which I named “With Me.”

 

When I wrote “With Me,” I needed my father’s support more than ever – his love for me didn’t end with his death. He was watching my life unfold and comforting me. The feeling of him watching me from above was something I had also imagined when Jason died.

Looking into clouds or into a night sky always gave me a feeling of awe, and caused me to ponder the mystery of life and death. Witnessing his death caused me to write the line “with me when I die.”

Death has frightening elements for most humans, and although we die alone, I believe love eases our departure from this world.

One of the few pictures of my father with my deceased son, Jason.

In the past, I was often unsure about the existence of God. I was amazed how I wrote a song remembering my father’s love, but later on, I realized that my song could also be related to God’s love.

When my father took his last breath, I felt the presence of both God and Jason in the room at that moment. I believe that God blessed me with my music; it has soothed me and given me strength.

I love this picture of my parents with me. They look so young and healthy. I want to always remember them this way.

In 2012, I was dealing with my parents’ care and three teenagers. I was overwhelmed by all the stress in my life and was being checked for a rapid heartbeat. I also had eye problems and was told I needed cataract surgery. I was so thankful that I had music to comfort me and save me!

After composing my song “Set You Free,” which was about freeing everyone around me, including myself, I moved on to writing song after song and felt as if my life were a musical. My emerging songs erupted from me with gut-wrenching and honest lyrics. The lyrics were actually my subconscious speaking to me – and I listened.

My song “Clear” emphasized that is was “never too late to turn your life around.” From the moment I composed “Clear” and wrote those words, I suffered deeply. I struggled to find the courage to go through a door that would completely change the direction of my life. I needed to follow my very own song lyrics that poured out from my heart. As I gathered my strength, my heart was constantly pounding; fear was destroying the preciousness of my life.

Once I announced my decision to divorce my husband after 31 years of marriage, I had to deal with the tremendous pain of my husband and children.

But what truly kept me going the most was my song “With Me.”

I felt my father with me every step of the way. As scary as it was for me to face the unknown, the known was too sad and lonely for me to accept anymore. I was ready to face a new life that held challenges, as well as exciting possibilities. Sometimes, it does take risk and courage to follow something that is clearly in front of your eyes.

I believe that God sent me my songs not only to help me, but also to share them.

I hope I can inspire others to find their own courage.

The picture on the left was the sky I used for this song's cover image. I was in awe of that gorgeous sky. It changed from a sunset to darkness very quickly.

The picture on the left was the sky I used for this song’s cover image. I was in awe of that gorgeous sky. It changed from a sunset to darkness very quickly.-

The link below will play an excerpt from my voice lesson about this song:

WITH ME-LESSON CLIP WITH PEACHES CHRENKO 7/2012

Later stories about this song:

Story behind WITH ME-PART 2

Story behind WITH ME-PART 3

I didn’t enjoy tennis too much until I played women’s doubles. Those old rackets weren’t easy to play with and I spent more time chasing the balls than hitting them. Maybe that’s why I was so much thinner!

This card reminds me how much I depended upon my dad to help me with paperwork.

These are my actual lyrics – exactly as I wrote them.

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2012. 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.
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I LOOK AT THE CLOUDS

My castle in the clouds – painted when I was 18.

An illustration from a book I created when I was 8 years old.

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

 

The title of this post is related to clouds and is a lyric line from my song “With Me.” I often look up into the sky and imagine my father is watching me from the clouds.

Lately, I look there and am saddened by my cloudy vision. Blurred is probably a more accurate description. I’ve decided it is time for me to write an update regarding my vision. In May, I had new glasses made and could not see out of them very well. I brought them back to the optometrist and discovered that within one month, my eyes had changed.

I had a lot of tests done and it was determined that my visual problem was most likely due to cataracts. I had cataracts on both of my eyes and they had even progressed between May and July. I have been extremely nearsighted my whole life, and was told that might have something to do with this problem. I’m 52 years old, and always thought that cataracts happened slowly and when a person was older. Although I am still looking to move, this has slowed me down.

I initially blamed myself; I thought it was because of all of the years that I didn’t wear sunglasses while playing tennis. The ophthalmologist told me that it was unlikely and that made me feel better.

The timing of all of this took me by surprise. I have not yet gotten important information about what medical insurance I will have once I’m divorced. It was better this happened now while I had reasonable and excellent medical coverage.

The first surgery for one eye is scheduled a month from now. The second eye surgery will be performed two weeks after that. Until then, I have to wear glasses so that accurate measurements can be taken. I’ve worn hard contact lenses since the age of 11 and it is incomprehensible to me that I will have different vision after this correction. The doctor told me not to expect it to be as good as wearing my lenses.

I’m just praying it will be better than what I’ve been seeing these days. I have always appreciated color and clarity in the world around me. I have learned to live with ugly floaters that appeared when I was in my 30’s. I was told that after cataract surgery they might even be more noticeable.

Because I am so passionate about writing and music, I have focused my energy upon how grateful I am to have the ability to type and hear. That is enough for me, even if I don’t have best vision. I can still blog!

In this picture, I am close to the age of 8. That is when I wrote the book shared  in this post.

Now I want to share what is truly my very first book. It even has illustrations! This book was written when I was eight years old.

The cover of my book; there wasn’t a title.

I have transcribed my own writing in order to make it easier to read. I’ve also corrected some spelling and grammar. Under the scanned images, there are some comments.

Just to show how the book actually looked. With my Photoshop skills, I created scans that are far easier to read. There are many red corrections, and although I thought spelling was my best subject, there were still some mistakes.

May 10, 1968

Beauty is nature and its surroundings. What I mean by that is when you go to a park – when you look around it is sometimes beauty.

Beauty can also be a feeling – when you are happy. No one in the world has the same beauty as you. Sound is another thing of beauty. When you look at something, it may give you a little feeling of beauty. Like a grasshopper, it may not look pretty, but it has a kind heart.

So beauty can actually be sound, shape, feeling and nature.

I love what I wrote. I used to play a lot with grasshoppers when I was little. I wish I had a kinder heart – those creatures had legs that fell off when I played with them!

Feb. 5, 1968

I am red. I am a person. I like to ride my bike to school. I also like arithmetic. I like my teacher, too. Sometimes we have music. I like to be a person. Today, I had a good day in school. I like my classroom.

This was the book’s first entry. I was totally kissing up to my teacher and writing exactly what I thought she wanted to hear. I did perk up to see the word “music” – and sad that I didn’t write anything more about it. I guess I still like to be a person. I never liked arithmetic!

Feb. 15, 1968

If I were President Johnson, I would stop the war. I would give four recesses in school. I would also go to the store and buy all the candy I wanted. I could play in the snow all I wanted to. That would sure be fun. I would let my mom be governor. I would like to be president.

This entry is the beginning of finding out that I used food for comfort way back when I was a young child. All the candy I wanted wouldn’t have been good for me. Why only 4 recesses in school, though? I no longer want to be president – though I’d like to meet him someday.

March 20, 1968

The Ceiling

In Room 15, there are people on the ceiling. I believe they are invisible. I think they may be clouds of dust in forms as men. I can believe they are very tiny. The little holes in the ceiling must be their home. At night, I guess, they go to sleep. In school, they watch us every minute. I hope they watch us do spelling, because it is my best subject.

The only time they don’t watch us is at recess. I wonder what they eat. They must have something to eat, I guess. At recess, they must sneak down and nibble at our plants. Since they’re so small, I’ll give them a name called Dust Men.

Believe it or not, I remember those holes in the ceiling well. Then one day, my vision changed as a child and I couldn’t see them anymore. I remember dreaming about those “Dustmen.” Food was important because I worried about what they would eat!

April 4, 1968

Happiness is going to the park and having a picnic on a nice day.

Believe it or not, this made me sad. I haven’t gone on a picnic in so long. I miss the outdoors and must plan something soon.

A linolium print of a forest I made when I had a printmaking class in college.

April 16, 1968

If I had one wish, I would think of the best wish I could think of. Another thing, I’d better watch what songs I sing. Because if I sing a song like “I Wish I Were an Oscar Meyer Weiner” – you know what would happen.

 

The best wish I could think of would be . . . hiccup! Whoops. Now I forgot, what I was talking about. Oh yeah, the best wish I could think of is if THE WORLD WAS MADE OF CANDY. Hiccup! Oh, I guess I’d better get a drink of water. Whoops, I forgot something. Excuse me – as I was talking about I said that if I had one wish – that the world was made of candy. I meant by that the streets were made of licorice, housed of cake, oceans of chocolate milk and many other things. So if I had one wish, this is what I would wish for.

Sigh, another one about candy. Some things never change. Now that I’m older, I wish that candy never would make me fat or rot my teeth. I did not know how to spell “whoops.”

April 19, 1968

We let go of a balloon. I wonder where it went? It probably went higher than the clouds. The reason you can’t se it, is because it went into the clouds. Maybe it went to the North Pole. It probably got stuck on an airplane to go there. It must have been fun on the way through the clouds. It’s very lucky, because it has air to breathe. The reason your balloon gets smaller is because it breathes. Maybe it went into space.

I didn’t create many paintings with clouds, but I appreciated other illustrator’s paintings of cloudy skies very much. I often studied clouds to see the many colors I could find in them. I wanted to be a balloon; I even imagined they breathed.

May 16, 1968

If I could fly across the sky, I would wake up early in the morning and take a trip far up into space, and when I came back, we will still be studying space. I will visit each and every planet. Then when I came back to earth, I would know most about space. 

Another thing is, when my mother says no more cookies, I’ll blackmail her. I’ll go away again. Then she will give me some more cookies. Yum! Yum! Yummy!

I moved on from candy to cookies – and even to blackmail in order to get them. It was hopeless! Food would never satisfy me enough. I’m amazed I don’t weigh 300 pounds! I always imagined I could fly when I was young.

A colored pencil illustration of space done while I was in college.

I’m just throwing this picture in because my impish expression is cute. I’m older here – perhaps 10 or 11 years old.

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2012. 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.
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