It’s been months since I’ve seen my brother, Howard. My nephew, Sean (his son) is on my right. Since my mother died, our weekly lunches are over. For this picture, I saw him a week before his birthday at the same restaurant where we used to take my mother.
This is a perfect opportunity for me to share a photo of Sean as a baby. What a hunk he is! Plus, he’s also a lawyer who loves music. This picture shows how I wasn’t that adept at handling babies before I had my own children. My mother’s hand is there to help me!
This is an old picture of Howard and I and my childhood friend, Joni is on the left. It’s amazing how I live in the same place I grew up in and I often sit near that same window.
My post title is a lyric line from my most recent song “Take Me Away.” I will share a version of my song here that is only karaoke, guitar and harmony. I find it fun to listen to. I’ll be sharing my song soon with the complete vocal and lyrics.
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Click the blue link to play audio:
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TAKE ME AWAY–KARAOKE WITH HARMONY
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If my song comforts another person, I always feel blessed. When I sing my song, I think of many special friends in my blogging world. I would like to dedicate my song to all of them.
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The process of composing and recording “Take Me Away” happened over a period of four months. Once I discovered lyrics for it, I loved singing them with the new arrangement. It was unbelievably beautiful for me.
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I couldn’t wait to share my song with a good friend, Sonia.
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She was a very honest friend and I was pleased when she said my song really touched her. But then she said, “Judy, when someone mentions going to a peaceful place – I think of death. Being out of pain is great – but I’m not sure about this. Could you find an alternate word like tranquil instead?”
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I heard what she said and understood. The problem was that I liked “peaceful place.” But her words made sense and I started to chuckle whenever I sang my song. It was funny in a way. Even though I had channeled grief, I didn’t want to be dead to see my loved ones. I also realized I wasn’t praying to be taken away. Being far from pain was true, but I knew there was another way to express that. Those were all lines I planned to change.
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The inspiration for me to change those words is a beautiful story that I plan to share soon.
This picture is from a teary story on Relinda’s blog called “The Promise.” By graduating, she kept the promise she made to her husband, Doyle shortly before he died. Notice the inscription on the right side of the photo.
It was because of this subject that I wanted to share an exchange of comments with a beautiful writer. Her name is Relinda and she is a heartbroken widow. Her blog can be found with this link:
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http://doyleswidow.wordpress.com
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Here is a link for another post where I wrote to Relinda: YOU HAVE NO HOPE
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A YEAR AGO:-
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Judy says: Beautiful writing, Relinda. Moving forward is never about letting go of memories. I see it as letting go of pain. Grief is all about love. The loss of your husband is far too much to bear. It is of little consolation to imagine that one day you will experience your exquisite memories without feeling the pain. I look forward to when that day happens for you. And it will happen.
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Relinda says: Thanks, Judy. Too often, people forget that they should examine their past and learn from it (and the memories are a source of comfort, although some are painful). It will happen when I see him again. My life is a lonely life.
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Judy says: I do believe you will see him again. Grieving is hard, hard work. It feels endless and hopeless; I remember it well from experience. I buried my son and am thankful not to be in agonizing pain from grief anymore. Hang in there, Relinda. Even though you believe things will never change, I see you looking back some day remembering my words.
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Relinda says: I appreciate your optimism, but when I lost him, I lost myself. Sometimes, we just wait for the game to be over. I am glad that you have found some peace and in so doing, have found some healing. I still hope that you find the type of love that Doyle and I shared.
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Judy says: And I still hope that you’ll discover “the game to be over” before your own death. That might just happen for you, too. You lost a piece of your soul when Doyle died. It won’t regenerate and no one sees it. You’re bleeding from it daily. I am counting the days for your bleeding to stop – I am certain it will, even though you are not. Scars are scars, but they don’t bleed anymore or throb. You’ll carry the memory of pain instead of the raw wound. That is what I am hoping for you.
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Relinda says: For some, the wounds’ pain lessons, for some, it never lessens or ceases. Thank you for hoping though.
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Judy says: You wrote, “For some the pain never lessens or ceases.” That is a belief (not a fact), which you envision for your future. At this very moment you are in terrible pain and I am so sorry. But for everyone, the future is unknown. I maintain hope that you might let go of that belief, because it actually adds to your misery. I am always thinking of you, Relinda.
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Relinda says: Hi, Judy. I appreciate your thinking of me. I tend to view my statement as fact. It is indisputable that for some, the pain never lessens or ceases. I know he is gone. I also know that I will see him again, but not during this life. Thank you for your concern, Judy. I know that you mean well, but sometimes wounds do not heal.
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Judy says: Relinda, the human body is a testament to the miracle of healing. I hope I am not upsetting you. It takes faith to believe in an afterlife. Use that faith to imagine another possibility: that he will return to you in your lifetime in another form. I’m not saying another lover – but in some way that will allow you to heal. The subconscious is powerful and telling yourself that wounds cannot heal is very damaging for you. I didn’t know Doyle, but I know he loved you deeply. I actually can imagine him telling you right now with every ounce of love in his soul – that he does not want for you to lead this tortured existence.
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Feel Doyle’s love and listen for his wisdom about this. He’s holding you in the darkness. He is reason you are writing. He is the reason you still are alive because you still carry that love in your heart. Death has not separated you from him. You are dying inside to be closer to him.
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One day, he will carry you into the sunlight. I just know it. What an awful experience you have lived through and continue to suffer with. I am sorry, Relinda – I feel tears reading your words.
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SIX MONTHS AGO:
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Relinda says: Hi Judy, I just wanted to tell you how much I loved your music on the CD you mailed to me. It is beautiful. Some of the songs made me feel as though they were written for me. Thank you so much for sharing your music with me. You are a very special lady to not only read my writing and share it the way you have, but also in the kind way you shared your heart. Again, thank you so much for allowing me to hear your talent firsthand.
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Judy says: Relinda, your message is so sweet! You are more than welcome. I am touched that you listened and felt that personal touch. I really thought of you this past week as I worked on my newest one called “Angel in the Sky.” I totally feel it would applicable to you. I know how you long to see your husband when you die someday and that is a very universal feeling with grief. It does take away the fear of death, doesn’t it?
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Thank you for appreciating me. I feel like I push a little too much; I don’t want to appear preachy with a message like “time can heal.” Even though grief slaughtered your hope (it did for me, too), it’s amazing how hope can reappear. I remember clearly wishing I were dead. I am glad my music offered you comfort and thank you for sharing that with me. Please stay in touch.
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A MONTH AGO:
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I received a thank you message from Relinda after posting a link to her blog post about solitude.
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Judy says: I had to put a link to your post because I cannot imagine anyone writing something more heartfelt than what you did. Solitude – isolation – it is all part of the horror of losing someone we loved deeply. It’s hard moving forward in life knowing we’ll never have what we once did. I am fortunate that I have music and other things to fill my own personal void. But there are still many empty spaces, which I acknowledge!
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Relinda says: In sharing my post and recognizing my grief, you’ve really touched my heart, Judy. Thank you so much for your continued thoughts of me, and for ultimately understanding my writing.
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Judy says: I hope I do. I’ve decided that inspiring hope of healing is a bit preachy and offering comfort is more tangible.
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Relinda says: Sometimes, it is just nice to know that someone cares and that is comfort enough.
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Judy says: Thank you again, Relinda. Today you made my heart sing.
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© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2014. 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.
