JUST A TUNE – PART 2

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JUST A TUNE

 

Just a tune to tell you, you’ve been on my mind

don’t know how I lived without you

you’re someone I never dreamed I’d find

 

And you’ve shown me how to care

And what it means to be a friend

But with everything you have given me

The greatest gift of all was that moment when

I could feel love again

 

Just a tune to tell you, how much you’ve done for me

don’t know how I lived without you

before we met I was so empty

 

And you’ve shown me how to care

And what it means to be a friend

But with all the gifts you have given me

The greatest one was at that moment when

I could feel love

I could feel again

 

And you’ve shown me how to care

And what it means to be a friend

But with all the gifts you have given me

The greatest one was that moment when

I could feel love

I could feel again

Now I can feel love again-

 

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Click the blue link to play audio:

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JUST A TUNE-8/2/13 Copyright 2011 by Judy Unger

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Link to the first post about this song:

 

#127 JUST A TUNE TO TELL YOU – PART 1

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I wrote my song “Just a Tune” in 1979 when I was 19 years old and it was dedicated to my best friend, Cheryl. The lyrics were simple and my song had a catchy repetitive melody. I loved singing it and was always moved by this song. When I recorded it, I slightly revised the lyrics and shortened it.

 

I arranged “Just a Tune” in 2011 and like many of my early arrangements I recorded the guitar tracks first and played in two different keys (using a capo). Recently, I’ve found that arranging a song without the guitar is smoother rhythmically for me. Then I can choose whether to add in my guitar playing once the song is finished. Today, I am actually going to record my guitar for several of my newer songs. Finally, my fingernails have grown back to a good length since I stopped biting them.

 

Throughout my life, I’ve maintained many beautiful friendships. I have wonderful girlfriends who have stuck by my side for decades.

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But when I was younger things were different. I often coped with tremendous emotional turmoil.

 

When I began writing this blog, I actually delved into one of my deepest hurts that occurred while I was in high school. I suffered terribly when things went badly with a friend whom I adored.

 

When I met Cheryl in college, she definitely inspired me musically. Cheryl’s passion for life was infectious. She loved sharing my songs and singing them with me.

 

I opened my heart again and my song “Just a Tune” reflects that.

 

That time period in my life was so joyous. Besides adoring Cheryl, I was close to all of my girlfriends at that time. It was a special “club” and those memories are ones I cherish. Once I was married, it ended and so did my music.

 

Today is Cheryl’s birthday; she would have been 54 years old. She died in 2008 after battling with breast cancer for 11 years. I miss her terribly and think about her family missing her every single day.

 

But I love how Cheryl lives on for me through my songs.

 

When I sang a new vocal for “Just a Tune” last week, the lyrics of finding love again swirled through my mind. I believe my song is a prophecy for me to find love again later in my life.

 

It is also a beautiful testament to self-love.

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When I think of Cheryl, I am always reminded how precious life is. She desperately wanted to live. I am blessed because my life is truly a gift.

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The tingly sensations and bounce in my step have continued since my meditation-healing workshop of two weeks ago. My eyes are still annoying, but my heart is peaceful and joyous. Music and writing continues to explode from me and I am very excited about life.

 

When I first separated from my husband, I was anguished about how much it affected my children. I am not anguished now because I’ve changed my mindset and let go of many of the stories that made me sad.

 

My children are still adjusting, but I must mention that recently my 19-year-old daughter has gone in a direction that has put me in a state of amazement.

 

Over this past year, she discovered her own passion for music and songwriting!

 

Every day, our small apartment is filled with the sounds of her singing and playing guitar. I chuckle because she uses my old classical guitar. It still has sand in it from all the times I played it on the beach.

 

Her talent is beautiful for me to witness. I have to stifle my emotions and maintain my cool when she shares how excited she is over writing a new song.

 

This past weekend, she performed at a large YouTube Convention in Los Angeles (near where we live). She and 24 other musicians won the opportunity to perform there out of 6,000 entries.

 

Last night, she asked me, ”Mom, do you have a condenser mic, a stand and a pop shield that I can borrow? I’m recording at a friend’s studio. Oh, and maybe a gear bag for me to carry it in?

 

I certainly had those items. As I gathered them for her, I chuckled.

 

I guess I’m a really cool mom since I can do these things for her. In the past I’ve offered to help her, but she wasn’t too receptive. Maybe it’s changing! 

Yesterday, I played tennis at a private home.

 

Lately, my focus on tennis has really drifted, but I know how important it is for me to be outside (and exercise). I play women’s’ doubles, which requires less physical effort than singles – but our games are swift and require concentration. I usually have a shortage of that, since I’m often writing lyrics in my head while I play tennis.

 

The woman who owned the home where I played yesterday had been on vacation for 3 weeks. I have played at her home for at least ten years. She had just gotten back from an excursion that included countries such as Spain and Morocco. But it didn’t take long before my “trip” came up in our conversation.

 

When I casually mentioned that I went somewhere different, my friends all stopped talking and gazed at me with curiosity.

 

I simply said, “Well, I didn’t go to far – but I did fly somewhere cool with Ayahuasca medicine.”

 

As I relayed details to those three women, they were completely entranced hearing about my experience.

 

My friend, a world traveler, had eyes so huge that they were bulging. She exclaimed, “You are so brave! I could never do anything like that.”

 

Then she proceeded to tell me of a man she knew who had done Ayahuasca. It had changed his life so much that he insisted his 80-year-old father try it. She was laughing when she said, “You know, he almost killed his father!” 

Well, it seemed that my “trip” (and its after effects) superseded the tennis yesterday. Even though I’m not a world traveler, I guess I had a trip that was fascinating for my friends to hear about!

Since my Ayahuasca experience, I am making a few changes in my life. I have decided to discontinue voice lessons for now so that my energy surrounding singing can be redirected. I really prefer to focus on singing with emotion, rather than concentrating on my vocal technique. But I definitely needed to learn about my instrument and how to best use it. 

Recording vocals while I was learning helped me to improve, but at the same time it added a lot of pressure. I realize that for the last four months, I haven’t enjoyed singing that much.

 

But I do appreciate my vocal improvement. I have so many wonderful “tools” in my vocal toolbox that I never had because of Kimberly Haynes. I will certainly miss her, because she has become a good friend. We will definitely stay in touch and I know I will still see her occasionally.

 

I have every intention of practicing and maintaining my voice. I love where I am and feel much more confident about singing for other people than I ever did before.

 

This afternoon, I went into the recording studio to sing vocals for my new arrangement of “Beside Me Always.”

 

The first notes of this gorgeous new arrangement transport me to a grassy bluff at the cemetery. I am standing over Jason’s grave while a breeze envelops me and caresses my broken heart.

 

When I sang my song today, I was quite moved. There is nothing in the world that could describe how beautiful it felt to sing while my heart was bursting. Nothing at all.

 

I allowed for emotion, but didn’t let it destroy my ability to sing. It isn’t easy to sing and cry simultaneously! But although I sang my song with tears and emotion – I wasn’t sad.

 

Jason was right there beside me in that recording booth.

My correspondence on an Internet grief forum:

It’s been one year; it’s hard to believe. I slowly rock back and forth and remember how I was one year ago, the shock, the numbness, and the horror of it all. The world continued to turn, life did go on…..for everyone else….not for me. My life has stalled and I continue to have anger and guilt issues.

 

I have learned to put my false face on when I am at work. I laugh and talk with people and as soon as I am alone that face is gone. People don’t understand what you are dealing with so they really don’t want to see it all the time. This problem cannot be fixed. This problem will never go away and there is no bright side to this. I am tired of hurting. I am tired of having an ache in my soul and a hole in my heart. I am tired of pretending that everything is OK. I am tired of not having anything good to look forward to. I am just tired.

 

One Year. I used to say; “My how time flies” but I didn’t really know how true that was. How a year can crawl by and fly by at the same time is beyond me but…this one did. I look out over my quiet, sleeping neighborhood and notice how little has changed and yet…..everything has changed. My heart aches every time I hear or read about someone losing a child. I wish I didn’t understand how that felt. I still want to rant and rave and scream until I can’t scream anymore. I have cried enough tears to fill an ocean and yet they still come like I have never cried at all. It hurts too much to face each day without my son but I know, to stop living, is to stop honoring his life. Child loss, no matter the age of the child, is the most piercing, gnawing, constant, lingering pain that will never go away and those of us that have gone through it……will live the rest of our lives wrapped in the mantle of this pain.

 

Oh, my friend, how my heart aches for you. Just as you wrote about the ache when hearing other people’s’ loss of a child - that is my connection to you!

 

See, I was where you were exactly once – Hopeless and tired. In fact, your words about tears filling an ocean are unbelievable since I wrote a poem of that title. It really felt as if my tears did fill an ocean.

 

You already know it is a horrible road. What choice is there? Believe it or not – there are choices. I know people who have died from grief. You are living for your son’s memory, he is your light in this darkness.

 

Your soul is amputated and you are bleeding profusely. I cannot take away your pain. Promises that it will get better sound too unbelievable for you right now. If hell exists, it is right here on this earth after our child dies.

 

I knew this was your one-year anniversary and meant to write to you sooner. You made it through one year and that is a huge achievement. Each minute farther away from the amputation of your soul may be slow, torturous and imperceptible – but it is farther along. You will get there. You will always miss your son, but life won’t be filled with torture. Don’t give up hope.

 

Love, Judy

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© 2013 by Judy Unger http://www.myjourneysinsight.com.  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.