I want to share one of my favorite songs “You Were There.” My song is for both my parents. I was very close with my parents all of my life and watching them decline has been a painful process. My father died last May. My mother has severe dementia and cannot really speak. But she still recognizes me and smiles with joy whenever I am near. Clicking the blue link plays my song:
Illustration for Charles Perrault’s Cinderella from Histoires ou Contes du Temps passé: Les Contes de ma Mère l’Oye(1697). Gustave Doré’s illustrations appear in an 1867 edition entitled Les Contes de Perrault. Second of three engravings (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I have lost a child, a teen with his life and future ahead of him.
It broke me-my body, soul and spirit.
And then there was you-mom.
When my son, I lost what I dreamed of,
With you, I lost the chance to really know you.
You were private, you kept things to yourself.
You had just began to tell me the things
that made you who you were-
I keep thinking that if you had told me, sooner,
it would have saved me so much pain.
Never-I loathe that word. Never again.
Today I put flowers on two graves -yours and his.
I am sickened by what my life has become.
It has never been as I dreamed,
And often been nearly unbearable.
It seems others take loss and go on with life.
I don’t understand it and never will.
How can others go on with what made life a joy?
When I am forced to exist without what made me live at all.
As a new year begins for me alongside this stream I feel like the time is coming to share a few personal things with you.
No not that personal well then again maybe.
You know insight, a reason for still being here. I thought I could hide behind a few pretty pictures but a few have seen through my exterior and are behind me hiding but also know in time my story will come to light.
My lyrics in development. They were written with the fact that I knew my father was dying.
My song “Clear” was composed exactly one year ago.
I feel like my life is a musical. For three decades, I lived with a lot of sadness, but when I rediscovered my music and songwriting – I found joy again. My songs played throughout my day and told the story of my life.
My song Clear was particularly inspiring. I might have achieved the clarity I wrote about in my song, but it took far more than that to change my life.
Overcoming and letting go of fear was my greatest challenge. But I did it. I was able to move forward to change my life.
Wish me luck in 2013, as I embark on a new life. I am living on my own for the first time after ending my 31-year marriage.
My song, “Alabaster Seashell” began with three simple stanzas I wrote when I was 17. I vaguely remembered only part of the melody for the “Alabaster Seashell.” But it was the beautiful chord progressions, which utilized a different guitar tuning, that enraptured me. I knew my song needed something more, but I had no idea how I was going to expand my song about a seashell. I started to experiment to see what I could come up with.
I have always loved seashells and deeply appreciated their indescribable beauty. When my art career first began, I received an assignment to create a series of eight, large paintings of seashells, which would be marketed as prints. As I painted dozens of seashells, I became quite familiar with their intricate shapes and colors.
I was surprised how telling the story of a seashell memento also stirred up many emotions inside of me. My memories of collecting seashells began during childhood. I kept jars of them in my bedroom and each shell represented a beautiful memory of a day spent searching the seashore. With those feelings, I started to compose some new lyrics to add to my song, but then I had such a major revelation with “The Alabaster Seashell” that it took my breath away.
My song was originally based upon the story of a boyfriend giving me a seashell when I was in my teens. With that story, I pictured myself older and looking back at the treasured memory my boyfriend gave me long ago, after we were no longer in love. But as I sang my old melody, suddenly my heart took me somewhere else. I was swept to a clear day at the beach. I squinted as the brilliant sun warmed my soul. My young son was walking with me along the seashore. Then, he bent down and excitedly cupped a sparkling white seashell in his hands to show me. His blue eyes were shining. The revelation of how my song had changed and the memory of that tender moment caused me to become overwhelmed with emotion. I realized that I had discovered how my song could be expanded.
I decided that a seashell was a beautiful metaphor about seeing death in a positive way. The creature that once inhabited the seashell left something beautiful behind when it died. Although the creature was gone, the seashell could bring comfort with its beauty and with the memories. The “Alabaster Seashell” reminded me of a magnificent day combing the beach with Jason. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I quickly scrawled out additional lyrics for my song.
These are original pages where I developed new lyrics for a song I wrote when I was 17.
No one else could see all the change you’d seen in me
You gave me so much; within a single touch
I searched for a smile; you brought mine back for a while
I just can’t find the words to say
How it felt when you went away
All my life, I hoped you would stay
And when you left, I let you go
But I still love you, more than you know
I still love you
You brought me sunshine; I thought that you were mine
How can I believe? When the warmth of you did leave
You gave me everything that made me want to sing
How could I have guessed that our time would be my best?
I just can’t find the words to say
How it felt when you went away
All my life, I hoped you would stay
And when you left, I let you go
But I still love you, more than you know
I still love you
Dearest Tersia,
I am always thinking of you at a time where you are putting one foot in front of the other. There is probably no word in the dictionary to express your exhaustion. Yet, you always find time to respond to every person’s comment with grace and kindness.
I loved your last post about tears. How beautiful that you could appreciate tears of joy, and not only of suffering at a time like this.
I have been deeply touched that you’ve shared my songs and words on your blog. It is unbelievable to me how in the short time I’ve know you, you’ve allowed me to help. I certainly hoped and wished I could. My own life has been enriched knowing that I was able to be there for you and Vic. The lovely comments by people who read your blog have also brought me to tears.
Since you have been Vic’s caregiver, you already know her absence will leave you with a deep abyss. It is so hard to have that devotion stop suddenly, because you will be going from plodding in exhaustion into nothingness. It is shocking because for so long, keeping Vic going has been your major purpose in life.
There are many levels to this song similarly to “Set You Free.” The main theme is of letting go. My song was written about friendship, but I revised it after my son Jason died. The lines that I find most applicable to losing my child was:
“I just can’t find the words to say how it felt when you went away”
With that line I am saying that nothing can possibly express the anguish of grief.
“I thought that you were mine.”
I believed that my child belonged to me. He was my purpose and I took care of him until he died. I could not accept his death for a very long time. That was why letting go was so hard.
Your own eloquent words acknowledge acceptance of Vic’s death. You are preparing yourself to let her go.
But there is no way to do that adequately.
I share with you my lyrics and song now. Since you have shared my messages, I want to provide a link here to my story about Jason. It helps to explain my songs and why I want to give you hope as you enter the darkness of grief. Your love for Vic will never end, nor her love for you.
Please know that you (or anyone grieving) can write to me any time. I am sensitive to grief in all forms, but because I am also a bereaved parent, I am especially sad when a child dies.
My song, “Set You Free” is one of my favorites. There are many ways that I relate to my song. I share more about it in a moment. Recently, I was very moved by a blog about a woman who is caring for her terminally ill daughter. It is getting close to the end now. I reached out and sent my song and words to this mother.
I was very inspired to know that out of hundreds of messages, she chose to post my song and mention how much it helped her.
There is nothing more meaningful in my life right now than that.
Clicking the blue title below, is a link to Tersia’s blog:
I wrote these words six months before my father died:
My song, “Set You Free” was born when I was feeling sad on Cheryl’s birthday. It was hard for me to believe that it had been almost three years since Cheryl died; sometimes it was easier to imagine that she was still alive and living far away. When we were older, life was busy but I missed our former closeness. Sometimes, there were special moments when I could hear her voice; it was recognizable and always comforting. There was no mistaking the cackle in it; we both used to laugh so easily. The smile in her voice was like music filling my mind, traveling straight to my heart and spreading comfort throughout my body. Those times were fleeting, but it was always music that brought Cheryl back to me.
I was sad because I knew Cheryl would have had some wisdom to offer me as I coped with my parents’ suffering. My mother’s dementia was worsening. She still recognized me, but was often terribly confused and anxious. My father was now in a wheelchair and plagued by constant infections; he would say he wasn’t in pain but he continuously moaned under his breath. A few moments earlier, I had spoken with him on the phone; he was very sick and refused to allow me to take him to the hospital.
And so it was on that stressful day, that Cheryl visited me. I was listening to one of the songs I wrote for her in my darkened bedroom, and my tears began to flow. I cried because it was hard to accept that she was really gone. But then, I heard Cheryl’s voice and her sweet encouragement. Gently, she reminded me that I was not alone; she would always be with me, especially when I played my guitar. After her voice quieted, I stood up to address my emptiness inside. My eyes still wet with tears, as I explored new fingerings on my guitar and soon beautiful chords began to appear; my melancholy was gone.
I put down my guitar to answer the phone. The call was to inform me that my father was being taken to a nearby hospital emergency room by ambulance. I left in the summer twilight to go to the hospital. When I returned home it was very late and I couldn’t sleep. I fingerpicked my guitar and felt inspired; lyrics formed in my mind to go with the beautiful new guitar chords I had discovered the day before. My new song, which I named “Set You Free,” began with the words: “You’re hanging on, as night turns to dawn.”
Acceptance is truly what “Set You Free” is about. My lyric line of “There is no fear and your leaving is clear,” is completely honest. As a result of my happiness and newfound clarity about life, I was confident that even with separation, both of us would be all right. Relating that to my children was easy. With my parents, it meant that my uncertainty and fear about death was gone. This revelation was quite profound for me. I felt ready to face the unknown.
It was because I had decided that life was all about arrivals and departures.
Because my songs come from my subconscious, sometimes I find my lyrics to carry additional meanings for me later on. I began to picture Cheryl as I sang the lyrics, because she had inspired me to compose the first chords of my song.
But it was my chorus lyrics of: “your smile, your touch, your voice, your face, your essence I will never replace,” that perfectly expressed my deep longing for Jason, and caused me to become emotional when I sang them. Jason was my child who died many years ago, when he was only five years old.
Yet not long after my song was written, I was singing those words and I realized that my emotions weren’t related to pain or sadness. As I remembered Jason’s unforgettable essence, I was overcome by deep gratitude. I had finally let go of my grief for him.
It was then that I understood.
I realized that my song was about setting myself free.
It has been 20 years since my son, Jason died. I wrote this poem four years after his death when I believed my pain would never go away. I dedicate this posting to Beebee and continue to try to inspire hope to anyone suffering with grief at my blog: myjourneysinsight.com
THE ACHE IN MY HEART
The ache in my heart goes everywhere with me
It follows me through time and never really leaves
With every breath I push it away and hope it won’t remain
Because I can’t accept that it will stay with me for the rest of my life
But four years later, it’s still there . . .
In the loudest or quietest moment I strain to remember your voice
In the daylight or in darkness, I’m searching for your face
In the happiest of times, the ache in my heart
Reminds me that tragedy can always strike
The thought of more agony than your loss alone is unbearable
So, sometimes I wish the pain away and pretend it never happened
Or it happened to somebody else or maybe you’re better off
Or maybe I am, too, but it never really matters
Because the ache in my heart never leaves
Even when I’ve thought it’s gone, it’s only disguised
It becomes the guilt that now I’ve forgotten you or loved you less
I guess the ache inside is what remains
And though the pain is no longer raw
I can’t believe that time can heal
How can my heart ever heal
when it continues to bleed?
Clicking the blue link below,
leads to my song “So Real” and more words about grief:
