Prolific, he wrote poems, published books,
ideas flowed like waterfalls, not brooks.
My father wrote of nature, music, art,
most in poetic form, sharp as a dart.
He chose his words with utmost care to tell
the stories stirring in his head, to spell
ideas with suspense and tension. Four
weeks after he had died I found some more
of his fine poems. One, though, brought my tears.
Its subject? Me as little girl. He’d not
shared it. I wondered why. Emotion shot
through me. I read this poem. My dad nears.
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:
The violin strings quiver, oboe haunts
with mystifying sound, and all the French
horns call us to attention. Nothing flaunts
or struts, but instruments together wrench
emotion from deep wells. I notice tears
that moisten on my face and wonder why
I am so moved. The cellos calm my fears
while treble singing flute-songs make me cry.
The tympani roll out a thunder cloud,
brass trumpets speak their pieces, brave.
Violas add their mid-range voices, proud,
while clarinetists seem to march and wave.
It might be Beethoven or Brahms or Bach,
Tchaikovsky, Schubert, Handel, Haydn, Liszt.
This music makes me lose all time. The clock
has stopped. I feel my throat choke and the twist
within my heart. Too soon our bravos bring
the maestro back onstage again. Encore,
we clap, encore, and then we watch the king
lead dukes and duchesses through one more score.
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.
My passion is music and songwriting and I want to share a little poetry surrounding two songs that I wrote when I was a teenager.
One song is named “Autumn Recollections” and the other is “Alone.” I recorded them together and they both definitely have a certain mood and express deep loneliness.
I share first calligraphy of my lyrics that I created in college. Below it are some thoughts of mine about death, which relate to my song “Alone.”
Here are links to the music and story of these two songs:
I wasn’t sure how to relate my post to December, and I realize I am sharing more than twenty lines. What I want to say very succinctly is that the holidays are very difficult and lonely for people who are carrying the burden of grief. Grief doesn’t magically disappear. It lingers and bites during holidays, because holidays are when we miss those special people who were ripped from our life.
Please remember people who are grieving in December. They need support, love and understanding. Never tell them that it’s time to move on. Just be there for them – and listen.
Opening up to share my honest feelings changed my life. Two years ago I started a blog. Not long after that, I began to play my guitar again after 30 years.
I had no idea how sad I was. I had a child who died many years earlier. I also raised 3 children and there were many challenges involved with them. I was responsible for my elderly parents. My mother had severe dementia and my father died in May.
In July of this year, I finally found my courage to separate from my husband of 31 years. I credit my music for my healing and have been creating an audio book that tells my story.
Often, I write about my feelings and magically a song appears for me. Sometimes I hear the chords first. Other times I write the lyrics. Two weeks ago, I wrote a story that I named “When Noise Turned to Music.” My husband usually had the television on and I hated being in my bedroom. I do not own a T.V. where I am now and I treasure the peacefulness!
My lyrics in progress.
This past week, I wrote the lyrics for my new song. I am in the process of finalizing the guitar and melody for it. Once I record my guitar, I then work on creating an arrangement with George Reich. Arranging a song is one of the greatest pleasures in life for me.
Since I am new to Twenty Lines, I am excited to introduce myself. My name is Judy Unger. I was an illustrator for 30 years. But for the last two years, I have dedicated myself to writing and music.
I am excited to share my lyrics for “Noise Turned to Music.” I have an acoustic recording of my song in progress on my blog.
The last line of my song is “my music saved me.” I had a few other choices for that line. I considered: my music freed me or my music changed me. The concept of being saved sounded a little desperate. It made me think of circumstances such as being saved from drowning or a fire – of saving one’s life.
But honestly, my music did save me. Before I found my music, my life was dark and empty. Now I’m filled with beautiful music that keeps me inspired and joyful.
She was a delicate songbird; a sensitive creature treasured by her parents. In their nest she snuggled, loved tenderly. She never ventured forth to fly and didn’t know how. Her parents told her it wasn’t safe to leave the nest and she believed them.
She had so much joy for life and sang songs that filled the forest with beautiful melodies. She didn’t mind the nest at all and as she grew bigger, she simply danced around on nearby branches. Her songs attracted many other birds that wooed her; she ended up choosing a mate that loved her songs the most. They created a nest on a nearby branch.
She never felt the need to fly. One day, she was puzzled that she had stopped singing most of her melodies. She didn’t understand why her nest felt sad and empty even though she had a mate. She wasn’t sure what to do, and thought perhaps if she filled her nest with babies her songs would return.
Soft lullabies soon filled the forest as she tenderly nurtured her first baby, and then another one that followed. But when her first baby became sick and died, she was certain she would never sing again. She curled up in the bottom of her nest, and her other babies snuggled close to her. Slowly she stirred, and although she could not sing, she pretended she could. Then she poured every ounce of love in her heart into her babies.
The years went by and she became an older bird. Now her babies were quite large and challenging. But even though she didn’t use her wings to fly, she used them as a large canopy to comfort her family.
Sometimes, she tried hard to remember the enchanted forest from her childhood. Even though she had little faith, she often looked at the sky and searched for a sign. At her lowest point, she closed her eyes and prayed for her sadness to lift.
She wasn’t even aware that her prayers were answered until the time when she was given hope. As the blessing of hope was sprinkled softly into her soul, she felt herself sparkle inside. It became time to sing again. At first, her song melodies were hesitant and hoarse. But gradually, her voice became stronger and more confident, and soon all of her songs returned.
It was with her happiness, that she had the realization that she was blessed. She wasn’t sure why or how it had happened, but she knew that it came to her when had completely given up.
The more she sang, the more oppressive her nest became. It was time. She took her large babies and started to let them know how being in the safety of their nest was not what life was about. She wanted a better life for them. Although her babies were quite large, she knew that they could fly even though she never had. She told them it was worth the risk and gradually they began to practice. As she watched them, she was pleased.
She thought she was too old to remember the beautiful forest vistas, but now she realized that she still had joy for life. Since she had never flown, she wasn’t sure what would happen if she allowed herself to jump into the sky. Although it was scary, she wanted to take the chance even if it meant plummeting to the earth below.
She realized how unhappy she was because she preferred to fall out of the sky rather than stay forever in the safety of her nest.
As she readied herself to fly, she was sad for everyone who thought she was abandoning her nest. She loved her large babies, but knew they would still be a part of her life even if she flew. It was harder to leave her mate, but she was certain they would both be happier over time. He needed to fly also.
When she imagined herself flying, it was breathtaking for her. It sustained her throughout her difficult days as she mustered up the courage she needed to spread her wings and leap into the sky. She didn’t want her children to see her sad and afraid. Even if she fell she hoped they would always remember her courage.
Now she could dream about flying and she was joyful. As she prepared herself to soar, or maybe even plummet, she had certainty about where she would be flying. She planned to fly to a destination where she could share her blessing of hope. Her message was how it was possible to sing again and to fly even when life held heartbreak.
It didn’t matter anymore to her if she fell, because she had already flown so far in her dreams.
