I FEEL YOUR PAIN

There is never an end to mail that comes for the deceased at my home. Receiving this gave me a pang, for sure.

 

VOICE LESSON EXCERPT WITH PEACHES CHRENKO ON 9/27/11

“Let love shine a light”

My existence continues to be blessed. I am elevated and inspired because I have written two amazing songs within the last month. I never expected that I would be composing new songs so easily. A year ago at this time, I was still “purging” all of my older songs from my psyche.

 

Because I am so passionate and excited, I want to share right here a recording that truly reveals the birth of my song. I wrote my song in only four days, and that is a record for me. I’m certain I will fine-tune the lyrics a bit, but at this moment I am on a cloud.

 

From the beginning, I knew exactly what I wanted my song to be about. The timing couldn’t be better for me. My song is meant to help others who are grieving.

 

However, at the same time as I hope to help others, I am certainly healing myself.

“Love is never gone”

My mother has continued her downward spiral into dementia.

 

I was sad when I visited my mom one night at dinnertime. Her afternoon/evening caregiver was off that night. Plates of food must be moved out of her reach, because otherwise she fingers everything and dumps the plate onto her lap or the floor. When I arrived, I saw my mom sitting alone in the dining room of her nursing facility. Her dinner dish was ice cold at the opposite end of the table. A nurse smiled at me; she knew I would feed my mother since she was busy feeding other residents. As I spoon-fed my mother, I thought about how my father was upstairs eating alone at another table. It was always a pull for me, trying to visit both of them separately.

I like this picture with my mother in the background. She was always there.

A few days after this, I spoke to my father. I told him how meaningful it would be if he would allow me to arrange for him to eat with my mother. He said, “Are you kidding? How do you think that will happen?” My father told me that it was a big deal to have someone push his wheelchair down from the floor above. He was adamant in his refusal; I also knew he had no patience for my mother’s dementia. Although his room was in the same building as my mother’s at their nursing facility, he seldom saw her.

I called my father last night and almost fell to the floor when he told me that he was eating dinner at that very moment with my mother; he told me he had changed his mind and arranged so that he could eat with my mother every night now. I couldn’t believe it. I am thrilled how being honest and speaking my mind has had such great dividends; my father actually listened to me!

 

When I was at my oldest brother’s home for dinner last night, I shared this news with him and we were both crying.

 

This morning my mother’s caregiver, Miriam, told me what she hoped she didn’t have to share. My mother’s condition was worsening. She had not recognized Miriam and became aggressive by grabbing Miriam’s arm. A nurse saw what happened and told Miriam that it needed to be reported.

 

I hung up the phone. I would be visiting both my parents soon. Music swirled through me and I felt grateful for my inner peace.

My oldest brother Norm is with me here.

I love my life.

 

I have chosen to pursue my passions and I have so many of them. Of course, my highest priority this past week was working on my audio book. I edited ten audio stories that I had recorded at Larry’s studio before he went out of town for two weeks.

 

I met with my editor and she handed me a stack of revisions for another fifteen of my stories. Her markings were even more honest and clear; I told her how much I appreciated such direct feedback. I smiled as I read her red markings. She wrote things to me such as, “Will anybody understand this or care?”

Will anybody care?

Although it was a distraction for me, I had some wonderful email discussions this past week. It all started with an idea from one of my friends about how I could be an excellent art/music therapist; that it would be a worthy enterprise for me to go back to school. 

What I found most interesting was how clearly I could articulate that there was nothing else I wanted to do. Despite not having any income at the moment, I have such certainty that god gave me gifts to express myself in a way where I am going to heal and touch many people. A professional degree might make me more qualified for another profession, but with my current pursuits – I have all the qualifications I need.

 

I view my songs as gifts and accept that I must “birth them” when they come to me – even when sometimes it has been extremely inconvenient. Despite having so many ideas of things to work on this past week, when I picked up my guitar I felt the emotional pain of Jason’s impending death day. That led to the discovery of a new song.

 

My new song began with what has become a familiar pattern: first with beautiful chords and then a lovely verse melody. Within a few days, I had composed the chorus melody, as well. The lyrics were easily written. As I discovered my song, its volume in my mind increased and soon I could hear the chorus filling my heart and soul. I was completely overwhelmed with joy and amazement.

 

Because I viewed my song as a gift to me, I wanted to share my new song as a gift to others. My song was about how hard it can be to survive the pain of grief. It was about “hanging on.” It was love that kept me going and I was able to articulate that with my song.

 

As I sang it, I felt healed of every pain in my life. Tears filled my eyes because Jason had returned once again. I could feel his love as I sang my new lyrics.

 

I knew he was beside me.



© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2011. 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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READY

I might be smiling here, but I wasn’t when i was recording Jason’s story.

I have begun recording my audio book. I am very enthused about the fact that things fell into place for me. My book will have high quality audio recordings because I decided to contact an old friend of mine who owns a recording studio. His name is Larry; he is married and a friend of another good friend of mine. Larry has worked professionally in the recording business for 32 years and is also putting me in touch with another successful author of an audio book.

A picture of what is in front of me when I record. The stand is covered with a blanket so the sound won’t bounce off it too much.

My friend, Larry, who has an amazing recording studio.

I dated Larry back when I was 19 years old. He loved music and I remember playing my guitar for him. When I began recording my book with him last week, Steve was going to join us. Unfortunately, Steve became ill that day. Hopefully, he will visit Larry’s studio another time. Larry has an amazing array of audio equipment that I am certain would fascinate Steve. I asked Larry’s partner, Dave, to take a few pictures for me to share here on my blog.

Just for fun, later in the evening I went back to one of my old photo albums to find some pictures of Larry. I found two pictures of him, but none of us together.

 


 

My book will probably be available in two months. I am very enthused and look forward to promoting it. It will be wonderful for me to sing and speak; I look forward to touching many people with my sincere message of hopefulness and healing.

 

I received a flyer from my temple, yesterday. This was what was written about the one-hour workshop I will be conducting.

Temple Flier

Clicking on this makes it larger.

A recent e-mail message update:

I’m feeling better this week.

I did some recordings at my friend, Larry’s studio the last few days. I recorded Jason’s story and I wouldn’t want to read it again. I did do a far more emotional performance than my first rendition a few months ago. Anyone hearing this will be stopped in their tracks. It’s almost too much for me to hear myself reading it.

My father is set to have a microwave procedure on his prostate on the 18th of next month. He is being taken off blood thinners now. He came over to “help me” finish last year’s taxes – wow, what a relief! On Wednesday, I took him to the dentist and I’m beat. I still am not great with putting on and taking off wheelchair leg rests and get this – he insists on me bringing a walker AND a wheelchair. I have to push both together; like a train to my car. However, I am clapping for him when he walks. He was SO PROUD to show me and told me that he’s worked hard to do this. I wouldn’t have believed it. My parents just keep on ticking!


“Speaking and recording, Jason Mark – Part 2”

 

My own words faced me upon the pages in front of me. How was I going to read them? Was this a performance? Just the thought of being an “actress” caused me to shudder. This was my life, and the role I was playing was myself.

 

I told myself that this was not acting, and simply an expression of my feelings. I spoke carefully and honestly. But as my story began to unfold, I felt like I was transported back to the nightmare I lived continuously for years. The feelings began to swell inside my heart – I allowed my voice to express them.

 

The farther I went into the story, the harder it became. Jason’s dead image floated in front of my eyes again. Finally, I reached the end.

 

I stopped; it was my last story for this recording session. Thankfully, there would be no more recordings.

 

I came home and saw a message on my computer asking me if I could help a family whose child was dying.

 

I was ready.

Larry standing at the control panel. I record in the room on the other side of the glass.

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2011. 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 GO TO PLACES THAT HEAL ME

My conure, Tiki, who is looking at me (after we took a shower together). I think he thought my iPod nano had an eyeball to peck out. (I moved it quickly!)

Message from a woman in my grief forum:

I work in a retail shop. Yesterday I had a very nice customer going on and on about her only child moving 3 hours away from home. She doesn’t “know how she can go on, live without her daughter, the pain of being that far away.” This went on for quite some time. I didn’t say anything. My husband said I should have told her that I would give anything in the world to be only 3 hours away.

 

What would you have done?

 

My answer:

There are many stages of grief. I remember these things coming up all the time for me, too. If it pained you, then I agree with your husband. It would be an opportunity to give this woman a different perspective.

 

When I was in my angry stage, I wouldn’t have hesitated to say something. Farther along in my grief, I felt less of a need to express it because it became awkward – I felt wounded and wanted to pretend I wasn’t. Instead, I found other ways to cope, such as venting to other bereaved parents. I stayed close to those who truly understood and that helped a lot.

 

I have a living daughter. Even though I have lost a child (my 5-year-old son in 1992), I still reserve the right to be sad when she moves away from home. Comparing and measuring grief leads to isolation and loneliness; everyone has a right to express his or her feelings. This woman had no idea about your loss, so the truth is that you are the one who carries the pain around and many, many things will trigger it.

 

I have grieved a long time, but I share hope because I am truly happy now and able to enjoy life. It took a long time and my heart goes out to you.

 

Judy

Performing

I am performing in this picture at an open mic venue in North Hollywood.

I have not written for a stretch because I have been concentrating on finishing my book. I am my own production company, as I create all of my own spoken audio recordings, vocals, images, written stories, and book design format. I have been submitting query letters to try and obtain a literary agent.

At the same time as I tackle such a daunting task, I am also writing new material for my second book and composing new songs. I have set no deadline and I make sure to see both of my parents at least twice a week, with separate visits. My parents are managing and things are fairly calm for the moment.

Last week, I decided to call Larry. He was someone I had briefly dated in college and was a good friend of a couple I’ve known for many years. They gave me his phone number. Larry has owned his own audio/video business for 32 years. I called him and he invited me to his house to see what he does.

His home was filled with a fascinating array of equipment and he did some test recordings for me. It was wonderful to meet him again and the timing is excellent because I wanted his advice about the quality of my home recordings. I was concerned about the cost, but he said I could barter with him by assisting him with artwork and video shoots. My friend, Steve asked me to take a picture while at Larry’s, so I snapped one quickly. Steve, who does all of my music mixing, is going to join me next week when I see Larry again. That should be very interesting!

This is not a very good representation of Larry’s equipment, and I’ll take better pictures next time I’m at his studio.

I sent an email to my friends, to share my enthusiasm and received a cute message back from Sam:

On Sep 12, 2011, Sam wrote:

Well, us old boyfriends can come in handy! 

 

I celebrate all the goodness in my life. I definitely had some very nice messages to inspire me the last few weeks. I forget to mention that I even had an illustration assignment. When I delivered the final art to the art director, I received such a lovely message back:

 

Hello Judy, 

Thank you so much for all your beautiful work and working so hard with my tight deadline. I know you went the extra mile for me especially on the strawberry…I hope you got some sleep last night! Please send your invoice. Thank you again Judy, you were the best. 

 

My illustrations to be used on yogurt packaging labels.

 

I was given permission by my wonderful editor, Carol Bidwell Walkey, to share our recent e-mail exchange:

 

On Sep 5, 2011, Carol wrote:

Judy: I’ll read those last chapters and send them back to you by midweek, if all goes well. 

 

But I have to tell you; I read the first two intros, which I merged into one, and the first two chapters, and you, rock, girl. This stuff doesn’t meander anymore; it gets straight to the point and in a good way. It even made me tear up a bit, which the first one didn’t do.  

 

The main thing is, you’ve learned so much — both from me and from yourself. Your writing is so much clearer and freer. I’m so proud of you. I think this has a good chance to sell … but then what do I know? 

 

Carol 

 

On Sep 5, 2011, Judy wrote: 

Oh, Carol, thanks so much for your message. I’m proud of myself, too because I have learned so much. I wrote in elementary school and this has been such a fantastic two years for me. I love what I’m doing (which is obvious) and even the responses I’ve gotten from my material prior to your editing has fueled me.

 

I think my book has an excellent chance to sell. I know my music isn’t contemporary, but it’s a good story and one that our depressed country might embrace. There are so many grief stricken people, and women my age who might not dream that they could change their life as I have mine.

 

You helped me so much and I feel how much clearer and freer my writing is. I certainly can feel more books in my future and with all that I’ve learned from your editing (isn’t that great?) I’ll have far less errors and a better writing style. 

 

Your last words of “What do I know?” Well, I think you know a lot. You’re not promising me anything and that “disclaimer” doesn’t phase me. You have a lot of great connections, which I hope to tap into once I have a finished product. I think my book is going to change a lot of people’s lives and that I’ll be on a talk show circuit. I’m such a dreamer!

 

Judy 

 

On Sep 5, 2011, Carol wrote:

Judy: you sound excited, and you should. What I read today is head and shoulders above what I first read. You’re improving every day. This should be a great book. 

 

Carol 

 

Lastly, I shared preliminary audio recordings for my book with my friend, Lori, who I’ve written about many times.

 

RECONNECTING & REMEMBERING

BYE, BYE ZOMBIELAND

 

Her message was so beautiful that I’ve included it in my book! 

 

Hi Judy, 

I apologize for taking so long to get back to you regarding your audio book. To be honest with you I would selfishly only listen to it when I was alone driving in my car so I could give it the full attention it deserved. I was sad when I put in the last disc and knew I would finish it soon! Words cannot describe how I felt listening to it! First of all I am so proud of you for such a huge accomplishment. I was so touched to hear Matthew’s story included in your book. Your story is so emotional and inspirational both at the same time. I laughed and cried, and people probably thought I was nuts when they would drive by me! 

 

It’s been a very long time since I have visited Matthew’s death story. Hearing Jason’s story forced me back to that horrible day, almost 16 years ago. I realized, like you, I have come such a long way and I can say I am truly happy now. I had forgotten you were with me that very special day when I found out I was pregnant with Katie. It gave me such joy that you chose to include that in your book. 

 

I loved how you incorporated your music into your stories. Judy, with everything you have going on in your life right now it amazes me you were able to write a book! I truly believe it can make a difference in the lives of the newly bereaved and those who are farther along in their grief just looking for that light at the end of the tunnel.  We have always said our greatest fear is that our dead children would be forgotten. I now know that our children’s deaths have made us what we are today and they will never be forgotten. You are a beautiful, loving, inspirational person and there is no doubt Jason would be so proud you are his mother.

Love, Lori

My escape

When I went to swim laps the other day at my gym, it was fairly empty. I hate “lap traffic!”

Last week, while I was sitting at my computer, I stretched my arm behind me to pick up a piece of paper. Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed me in my breastbone and I immediately froze. The throbbing pain was reminiscent of pain I felt after I had cracked a rib when I was a child. I wondered how I had hurt myself simply by reaching over for a piece of paper.

From experience, I knew nothing could be done for an injury in that area. On Sunday, I had a performance at my friend, Joni’s synagogue. It was difficult to play guitar and to even take a deep breath with the pain I was feeling. I knew I needed to contact my doctor. So on Monday, I was smiling as a technician finished shooting four x-rays of my chest. I found the memory of how I cracked my rib as a child humorous, even though it was an incredibly painful experience where I thought I was dying at the time.

 

I was probably about 8 years old and had recently learned how to do flips into a swimming pool. I thought I could practice my dives onto a mattress. As I leapt into the air and landed on my bed, the wind was completely knocked out of me. My mouth was open and I could not breathe. I flailed and squeaked in terror trying to expand my lungs.

 

My doctor called me later on to tell me that I had not cracked a rib. When I received a doctor visit summary on my computer, It caught my eye that it was a year ago this same week when I had suffered from terrible carpal tunnel pain in my wrists.

 

With that information, came the realization that seasonal change had begun to cause manifestation of my emotions into physical pain. My subconscious was very busy directing my thoughts into areas of my body. My heartache literally became that! The anniversary of Jason’s death was less than a month away and the “march” to it had begun.

 

It was time for me to go out of my way to take care of myself. Since I no longer bit my nails (something I had done up until the age of 50), I had a manicure. I went shopping to buy a few new bras and some blouses.

 

And then – I went swimming. As I swam laps, my mind took me to magical places. I was swimming in an azure sea to a tropical destination where I left behind all of my pain. Metaphors began to swirl in my mind as I swam laps. Within that half hour, I composed a parable.

 

I threw my gym bag into my car and my hair was still damp. I definitely felt better. I put on my music and my soul swelled as I listened to songs I could hardly believe were mine. I felt so emotional that I began to cry. At that moment, I decided to acknowledge there was a God, who had indeed blessed me.

 

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2011. 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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BESIDE ME ALWAYS – PART 3

Click the blue links below to play audio:

Beside Me Always Arrangement 2018

Beside Me Always Acoustic 1-6-18 Copyright 2018 by Unger

Beside Me Always Meditation Song

BESIDE ME ALWAYS ARRANGEMENT

BESIDE ME ALWAYS INSTRUMENTAL

OTHER LINKS:

Story behind BESIDE ME ALWAYS-PART 1

Story behind BESIDE ME ALWAYS-PART 2

Story behind BESIDE ME ALWAYS-PART 4

AN INTRODUCTION – BESIDE ME ALWAYS

 

I felt moved by the beautiful summer evening, and marveled at the colors of the sky as it faded into dusk. I parked my car and sang aloud before getting out. I wanted my voice to be warmed up because I was going to perform my original song “Beside Me Always” shortly.

 

Summer would soon be drawing to a close and fall was approaching. I felt sadness enveloping my heart with the change of seasons. In early October, it was the anniversary of my first-born son, Jason’s death. It was poignant for me, as I recalled faint memories of 19 years earlier when I had cherished his last summer on earth. Playing my song “Beside Me Always,” allowed me to hold Jason close to my heart.

 

Even with the anticipation of Jason’s death anniversary, I was filled with joy and an aura of peace. I walked carrying my guitar and felt as if I could almost fly; my heart was filled with music. There was nothing I loved more than sharing my passion and especially inspiring other people to know how happiness was still possible despite heartbreak.

 

It was truly miraculous for me to recall how only two years ago I was so different. For decades, I lived a “zombie-like” existence. My grief, the constant stress and responsibility for many people in my life weighed heavily upon me. I was a sad middle-aged woman who completely focused upon taking care of others.

 

But one day, my story became a real-life fairy tale. I discovered my love for writing and reconnected with many of my friends from the past. With my friends’ encouragement, I began to play my guitar again. I had hardly played for thirty years and was a passionate songwriter when I was younger.

 

Within a short time, I rediscovered all the songs I wrote during my youth. I began composing new songs and my sadness was replaced with happiness and joy. When I discovered the magical elixirs of writing and music, I transformed into a completely different person. It was truly as if my soul had moved into another person. Even the sound of my voice and the way I walked felt different for me. Still, my grief would never be forgotten and had changed me forever.

 

I was going to perform at an open mic venue that allowed a songwriter to play one song. It was an intimate room and an excellent opportunity for me to share my music. It was a little over a year ago when I began to perform my songs there.

 

As I walked closer, people began to smile at me and call out my name. I was no longer an anonymous middle-aged woman who was relearning how to play a dusty guitar after thirty years. I had a new identity now; I was the singer who shared her heartbreak with sincere lyrics. People were touched by my genuine honesty and vulnerability.

 

I felt courageous when I first started performing; I hadn’t performed much when I was younger. Because I had not sung or played my guitar for thirty years, it was completely new territory for me. My heart would pound like a freight train and sometimes my voice was so shaky that I would hear myself croak. I dedicated myself to performing because I was passionate about my music. Within a few months, my panic was replaced with calmness and the desire to simply sing from my heart with passion.

 


As I patiently waited for my turn, I closed my eyes and searched for emotions that would help me find my “vibe,” another word for the “mood” of a song. My eyes closed as I recalled song lyrics that filled my mind with vivid imagery. I pictured my words traveling through a filter deep within my heart before they exited my mouth. Sometimes I cried when I sang. There were still a few minutes left before it was my turn to perform and it was time for me to remember Jason . . .

Jason was my beautiful, first-born child. In 1992, he died following open-heart surgery and was frozen in time at the age of 5. Even though I was given excellent odds for him to survive his surgery, I had a premonition that his life was very delicate and his time on earth precious.

 

He was so small and had tousled curly locks of light brown hair. His freckles were like cinnamon speckles dusted over his face. Clear blue eyes sparkled with enthusiasm and he had an infectious, sweet giggle. When I held him, he felt connected to me. I was his comfort and he was mine. He would gently rest his head upon my shoulder and I could feel his heart beating next to mine.

 

 

 

I preferred to remember him that way, because for such a long time I had traumatic flashbacks instead. The familiar torment I had learned to live with was a reminder of how death stole him from me. I remembered how I used to play my song “Beside Me Always” for other bereaved parents. With that thought, grief once again began to rip through my heart. I allowed for it because I knew it would help me find the vibe I needed for my song.

 

My flashback was sharp and felt like a razor blade cutting into my heart. All of the emotions surrounding Jason’s death overwhelmed me . . .

 

I traveled back in time to shortly before Jason’s funeral would begin. I sat on a hard, cold bench in a stupor. Beside me were my parents and my husband. We had all taken medication offered to us by a good friend whose husband was a psychiatrist. My friend wanted so desperately to help me and arranged to quickly get me a sedative the day after Jason died. I never liked taking any kind of medication. But I took those pills and freely shared them with my family; all of us had no idea how to survive the pain of grief.

 

Being in shock was eerie and I felt like it wasn’t possible for me to be living the nightmare I was experiencing. The image of Jason’s dead face from two days earlier haunted every waking moment. As I sat waiting for the funeral to begin, I was desolate. My courage evaporated because I had an opportunity to see Jason one last time before his coffin was closed.

 

I wasn’t able to do it.

 

I gave my husband instructions and handed him a few items to leave inside the coffin:  Jason’s favorite pacifier and some special pictures. I was glad I hadn’t denied Jason his pacifier at the age of five; it gave him comfort. His life was so short that it hadn’t mattered whether he outgrew the habit.

 

My husband came back after saying his last goodbye to our son, and I needed to hear about what I had been unable to do. His statement caused me to imagine things that were probably worse than if I had actually been there. I gasped when he explained that the pacifier could not fit into Jason’s stiff mouth. His teeth were clenched too tightly. My husband said that instead he placed it into Jason’s tiny, curled fingers.

 

Salty tears started to collect in my throat. I needed to control my thoughts now or I might not sing well. My name was announced and it was my turn to sing. I stood up, walked over to the microphone and readied myself to begin.

 

As I took a deep breath, a gentle softness filled my heart.

 

He was beside me.

This was written during my first year of bereavement.

This link is audio of my voice teacher, Peaches, and I discussing my performance.

MY LESSON WITH PEACHES ON 8/24/11- DISCUSSING BESIDE ME ALWAYS

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2011. 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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