Missing You...on Memorial Day

“Now this is what we call a happy sad song,” the music professional [Jonathan] said in an affirmative tone as we sat in the prestigious Dark Horse Recording Studio in Nashville, Tennessee. My song, Missin’ You, had just received a thumbs up, so it seemed. I was watching his body language as studiously as he was listening to my songs. Not only was I studying the craft of songwriting…I was learning to “read” my audience. I liked what I saw.

Jonathan making notes.

Jonathan had been called in by my new producer [Eric] to listen to all of the songs I had been writing — looking for gems. They were listening to my babies and I felt vulnerable. The songs that made the cut would go on my upcoming recording project.

As a newcomer to the Nashville culture, I was both eager and nervous. I gazed out the wall-length window above the ominous soundboard. The outside lush spring-green landscape was strikingly similar to that of my home state of Pennsylvania and it comforted me. 

I had a fair number of sad songs (without the happy) in my notebook. I hadn’t realized just how many until after Jonathan’s final wrap-up sentence of the day: “you seem to write a lot of songs about death.” I had heard that same assessment from Eric the day before. Two different individuals, independent of each other, had made the same observation. It was unsettling news to me. 

I had a feeling that this pattern wasn’t necessarily a good thing. We laughed when Eric said, “We can call you The Grateful Dead.” I didn’t know who that group was. I laughed as if I did.

I squirmed in my chair, silently wondering: how on earth could it be? I made a mental note. Someday I must figure out why I write so many songs about death… But in the present moment, I needed to focus. Therapy would have to wait. They were giving me a songwriting lesson about happy sad songs.

While their explanation was supposed to be educational, I simultaneously felt like I was receiving a verbal award of accomplishment for writing this particular song. After all, it was different than my other sad songs. It was “happy.” I had managed to write sad feelings in a happy way, though I had done it unknowingly. The professionals seemed to approve. 

My mind drifted back to the day I wrote the song…

I am 36 years old, sitting in my backyard on a metal folding chair, guitar in hand, experiencing my first birthday without my father. I am missing him. 

I look at the lovely purple lilacs in front of me. I breathe in their sweet fragrance. It’s the first year the blooms have made it past a hard freeze since we planted the bush over a decade ago. It was a birthday gift from my parents. My very own perennial bouquet of lilacs for annual birthdays. 

Mysteriously, the bush is choosing to bloom the first year after my father’s death. I receive it as a gift from him. Yet, there is a surge of grief accompanying the pleasantness of the moment. I strum my guitar as a lyric comes to mind. 

“Well we’ve seen another winter come and go…” 

I look at the lilacs again. 

“All the lilacs are blooming there’s no more snow…” 

I think back through the events leading up to his death. 

Less than two years earlier I released my very first recording project, Under The Big Blue Sky. Daddy was there for the release concert, supporting me. But not too long after that celebration, he began feeling ill. Months later, we found out why. He had cancer. 

I remember standing outside his hospital room trying to gain my composure. He too had just been given the news. I didn’t want him to see me cry.

Back in front of the lilac bush, I know what I want to say next. Lyrics flow effortlessly…

”But I miss you more than ever 
and the sayin’s not true
that time will heal 
‘cause I’ve been missin’ you.”

He was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma that summer and less than a year later, he was gone. In one short year, I witnessed the birth of my professional music career and the death of my father. Summer, fall, winter…

“Springtime reminds me of you
in the winter season
I’m thinking of you”

May 2021 marks the twentieth anniversary of Daddy’s death. Our last holiday together was Memorial Day. I should have known something was wrong when he could barely lift a piece of wood from the trunk of the car and carry it over to the BBQ pit. 

The morning after our family picnic, he started coughing up blood and died three days later on May 31, 2001. We were all there beside his bed, surrounding him, serenading him with hymns, including one of his favorites…Under His Wings.

This past week, knowing the 20th anniversary of his death approaches, I’ve been digging out my old photo albums — faded pictures of his youth, pets, his violin, weddings, births, reunions — snapshots of our family. Organizing them into a visual soundtrack to go with the song…

“and if time is a healer
then it’s moving pretty slow
‘cause I’ve seen another season
and I’m missin’ you.”

Click here to see the song. Or click the image below.

How Cancer Has Shaped My Faith

Diana Focht (left) has become such a support to me at my concerts and in my music.

I received an e-mail this week from my friend, Diana Focht, who has become a support to my life and my music in so many ways.  She oversees the product table at my concerts as often as possible (which you see her doing in the picture above).  

However, Diana has her own story to tell and when she sent me this article, written for another blog, I asked her if I could share it with you. 

How Cancer Has Shaped My Faith

by Diana Focht

No one wants to hear the word, cancer, associated with them, but when it comes, you have a choice to make. Do you give in to the hopelessness and despair of a cancer diagnosis, or do you look upward, and cling to a God who has promised to never leave you nor forsake you!   

A verse I've known most of my life, but one that became extremely important to me not only while undergoing treatment for cancer, but more so in the "lost days" after treatment, is Hebrews 11:1 - Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see! 

Can we hope for an end to our cancer and be sure about it?! Can we really be certain that God not only sees us in our times of trouble, but that He loves us enough to carry us through it?! In faith, can I trust that God has a plan and purpose for my cancer?!

Faith. Sometimes it's a hard word to define, and often times, it's an even harder word to live out! We talk of a faith in God. We hear of a saving faith. But when I was going through my cancer, I wanted a healing faith! I wanted a faith that could believe that God would physically heal me of my cancer. I prayed for it. My family and friends prayed for it. A multitude of strangers from around the country prayed for it. I was anointed and prayed for not once, or twice, or three times, but four times. 

My faith was riddled with doubt, because nine years earlier, I watched my Dad take his final breath, after battling cancer for three short, agonizing months. I wanted a healing faith for him, but it didn't come. At least not the way I wanted it to. My faith was shaken for the longest time.

Three months and four chemo rounds into my cancer treatment, my doctor ordered a CAT scan to check the progress of the chemo. The results were not the results she was expecting, and she was ecstatic! The CAT scan results showed no evidence of disease. When I asked her if these results were normal or abnormal for an individual battling stage 3 endometrial cancer, who had only undergone 4 rounds of chemo, without hesitation, she said it was abnormal. At that point, I acknowledged what I had been sharing with her from the beginning…that God had healed me of the cancer! It was a tremendous time of rejoicing and celebration! My faith meter was sky high!

Two days later, I was called into the HR Director's office at work. My company had experienced a downturn in business and had been laying people off weekly. I knew what this visit meant, but even after being told my employment would end in two weeks, my faith was still soaring. 

I still had one more chemo treatment, which was scheduled to take place after my employment, and my health insurance, ended. The Lord prompted me to ask the company to extend my health insurance to cover the last chemo treatment, and through a chance encounter with our company's COO, I believe the Lord softened their hearts to show me mercy and they extended the health insurance for 30 days. I was still on a "faith high"!

Little did I know at that time, it would be 12 long months before I was once again employed full-time. 

What followed was a move back to my home state of Pennsylvania and a roller coaster ride of emotions, disappointments, discouragement, fear, doubts, uncertainty, indecision, hopelessness...you name it. I entered a phase where I just felt lost. The cancer was behind me, but I wasn't the same person, in many ways. I couldn't find my "new normal". I was scarred physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually from the battle I had waged for six months. 

My faith took a tumble.

God in His mercy and grace, placed individuals in my life to carry me through these lost days. They encouraged me and lovingly nursed me back to spiritual health. 

One individual just loved on me and showed me what compassion looks like in human form. 

Another individual, who had gifted me with a Compassion Bag, became a trusted friend and a spiritual mentor. 

An individual, whom the Lord had brought back into my life right before the cancer diagnosis, modeled for me an authentic faith that lives out the peaks and valleys in our Christian walk. 

And finally, He brought an individual whose music brought to me peace and hope, and it raised me up.

God had a plan and a purpose for my cancer, and that was to draw me into a closer walk with Him. The testing of our faith is to result in us looking more and more like Jesus. I am not the same person I was before the cancer diagnosis. Not because the cancer changed me, but because God changed me!   

My musical friend sings a song that has become an anthem to me about faith. Read the words she sings:

It’s believing the impossible 

Seeing the invisible

Dreaming bigger than you’ve ever dreamed

It’s listening to His still small voice 

It’s letting your heart make the choice

It’s standing at the edge of what could be

It’s reaching through the shadow of a doubt

That’s what faith is all about

Being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see! That is what faith is all about!

Click here to watch the music video "That's What Faith Is All About".

Shatter The Glass

Shatter the glass.  Don't just open it and let some fresh air in.  I need HELP - not just a little change here and there.  I need a NEW perspective.  A completely different view!

Do you ever feel that way?

A friend of mine had her life turned upside down when she moved to FL for a job opening, lost the job and then found out she had cancer.  Her world was shattered and not in a good way.  At first.

She moved back to PA and somehow found my music and we have become friends as a result.  One thing has led to another and she asked me to do a concert to help her raise money for an organization that took her by the hand and helped her to see a whole new world as a result of her journey with cancer.

We met at a coffee shop to talk about prayer, life and the concert.  When she told me some of the songs she wanted me to do, I said to her "oh...so you want all the dark songs?"  (I have a tendency to write on the dark side, although my most recent CD "Portraits of White" wouldn't agree with that - thank God!)  But left to my own devices, I do tend to write introspectively because frankly, that's the window from which I tend to sit and peer into life.  Slowly, over time, sunlight is starting to break through my window.

As we sipped our coffee, she pulled out an old song of mine - "Shatter The Glass" and asked me about it. As I began to share with her, I was reminded of how the song does seem to touch something deep inside people who have walked through tough seasons.  I went home and began working on a video of images to go with the song.  I was shocked to receive the following words in an e-mail from her.

"So I've been thinking about something you said Thursday, when I made known to you my 3 song requests for the concert. I don't recall your exact words, but I think you said something about them being dark songs.

For those of us like you, who have experienced death of loved ones too much, and for me, who has experienced a life-threatening illness (and my Dad's death), we see life differently. We see the darkness in life. Life is raw! Life is hard! Life isn't always fun! From my own experience, there were so many things I faced for the first time physically, as I was battling the cancer, that were just downright raw, and very humbling! I was not one to get sick. The worst I would get was a cold, stomach bugs, and maybe a touch of the flu every so often, but other than the day I was born, I had never spent time in a hospital. Had never been operated on. I didn't like taking medication, even over the counter. I was happy to keep the doctor away!

Your songs speak to the "rawness" of life! They are honest and they are authentic! They don't apologize...they just tell it like it is! I relate to that and I so appreciate that type of honesty and vulnerability.

But here's the thing...you don't leave your listeners in the "dumps", wallowing in that rawness. You bring your listeners up and you give them hope! You lift them up to Jesus!

For instance, in Nobody Sees...

"Nobody sees all those places I've been,

All the mistakes and my secret sins.

All of the tears when I fall on my face,

All of the times I'm in need of Your grace.

But You love me,

And forgive me"

I mean come on, how powerful are those words! The rawness is seen in the mistakes we have made and those secret sins that we hide from the world. But then look, there's a way out...God's grace, God's love, God's forgiveness! It doesn't get any better than that, does it?!

Those are not dark songs Frances! You don't write dark songs! Those are songs of love, and hope, and forgiveness, and second chances, and on and on...

To use a musical term that I have no idea what it is...your music has struck a chord with me. Your music speaks into my life and draws me closer to God! How can I not thank God for you and share it with the world!"

Thank you, my dear friend. Thanks for encouraging me to keep writing authentically.  May the music continue to help you 'see the view from heaven' as we work together to help shatter the glass and pull others from dark places.

Click here to learn more about the concert for Cancer Companions on May 16, 2015.

"The Elephant Diet" Day 128 Think About Your Audience

"Getting there I think.  Maybe you dial back in a bit more emotion in parts, but Phil will take care of that."  - Eric Copeland

That was the response I got yesterday from Eric about the new vocal approach I've been working on for the song "You With Me."  Well, hopefully Phil will help me nail it this week.  When I asked Eric about the last minute lyric changes, he just said "less is always more".  Now I just wait for word from Phil, but I might just have to wait until I get there Wednesday morning.  That's ok.  I like the changes and feel good about it.

As I write this, we are on our way home from North Carolina where we spent time this morning remembering my sister-in-law, Sue Drost, who passed away recently.  The family asked me to sing at the funeral and I squirmed at their request.  Have you ever attended something that sets off all kinds of land mines in your soul?  You avoid those events if at all possible?  No need to stir things up - just keep them buried.  Funerals do that for me and though I wanted to honor the family, I was so afraid I would be a muddled mess of emotions and I really prefer not to sing in those circumstances.

However, I put those preferences aside and said yes, for them.  As we got closer to the moment when I was to sing the beautiful song "You Raise Me Up" my fingers began to shake and my heart began to pound.  I haven't been that nervous in a very long time.  I began to analyze what was making me nervous while also paying attention to the tributes being given.  

I was afraid.  Afraid of my emotions getting out of control, afraid that I would cry and not be able to sing, or worse yet, try to sing in spite of tears and sing way off pitch and totally butcher the song.  Then I began analyzing why I hate funerals in the first place.  I've already been down that road so many times that I just decided to not even get on that bus.  

I tried to think of funny things like cats barfing, or dead dry grass that crunches under my feet when I go to get the mail at our mailbox.  I closed my eyes and pictured no one in the room and just me at the piano bearing my soul through the music. I prayed for peace and ability to press through.  I asked what's the worst that could happen.  Meanwhile, my husband leaned over and said "are you nervous"?  Dah.  Was it the earthquake in my hands or the bulging of my dress around my heart area that gave it away?  Maybe he could hear the pounding?

Finally, in desperation, I tried to recall what coach Tom Jackson would tell me.  Most of our fears come because we are so consumed with what others will think of us, which means we are self-focused.  

Guilty.  

"Think about your audience" Tom Jackson always says. 

Sue Drost and son, Derek

Ok.  So I began to think about the family and what they must be feeling.  I thought about all the friends that were present who could use some encouragement.  Sue Drost had touched many people's lives in her 4 1/2 year battle with cancer.  Apparently they had given her 6 months to live, but she decided to live life to the fullest in the time she had left and in the process, it was obvious she had touched many people very deeply.  I began to think of those people.  What about her son who is to be married in September?  What must it be like to lose your mom right before your wedding day?  The doctor who treated Sue came to the funeral.  It was the first cancer patient's funeral he had attended in 8 years of practice he said afterward.  With tears in his eyes, he said "Sue taught me how much cancer can break someone's heart and how cancer can make someone's heart stronger."  He was obviously touched by her life.

I began to breathe deep and exhale slowly.  I walked to the piano not knowing if Tom's advice would help.  I remembered singing at another funeral years ago where my tactics didn't help.  I had placed a comic strip on the piano beside my music to help me focus.  That didn't help.  I caught one glance of the mother who lost her 13 year old son and that was it.  I couldn't finish the song.  His name was Nathan, the name of my brother who drowned in our farm pond.

I sat down at the piano, began to touch the keys and when it came time to open my mouth, it worked.  No more shaking.  No more heart pounding.  Not one tear.   

Plenty of tears came later when we sang:

my chains are gone

I've been set free

my God, my Savior has ransomed me

and like a flood

His mercy reigns

unending love

amazing grace

.....and I let the tears flow freely.

Maybe there is a lesson there beyond musical performances.....perhaps many of our fears and nerves are rooted in being too self-focused.

Many people commented to me how much they had been touched by the song and how amazed they were that I was able to make it all the way through.  They have no idea the battle I had.  I told a few people it was a miracle.  And, it was.

"The Elephant Diet" Day # 52 Reflections

I'm beginning to realize that the beginning of the week is not as productive as the end of the week for me.  Part of it is because of my 'day job' and that's when I work more of my hours.  Plus, I had a meeting last night, tonight and tomorrow night.  It makes it tough to fit in much else on these kinds of days.

I tried to focus this afternoon when I got home, but in all honesty, I am exhausted today.  The work I wanted to do on my project takes brain cells and I forgot to pick up some extra ones last time I was at Walmart.  : (  

There are a number of things going on in my life that are making it hard to stay focused.  

• I found out a friend has cancer
• My mother-in-law died on Sunday afternoon with only a few days notice
• A dear colleague where I work is leaving us and taking another position somewhere else
• My mother turns 90 tomorrow (that's a great thing)

When things happen that tear at my soul, it affects me in the same place from which I do creative work and therefore, it's hard to create (at least for me) when I experience 'soul pain'.  (Just being honest).

So I opted for an easier bite out of the elephant today (no brain cells needed for this).  I'm trying to increase awareness of what I'm doing and facebook is a great way to do it, along with this blog. As people offer to help me in any way (and many are doing just that) it becomes more apparent to me that people are with me in this and the greatest thing people can do right now is spread awareness by sharing this with others...and that is happening!  Thank you!

Unfortunately, it's taken me a while to figure out the difference between a 'personal profile' and a 'page' on facebook.  Now that I think I'm finally starting to get my brain around it, I'm trying to keep the two separate.  So at the bottom of this blog entry, you'll see a link where you can go right to my Frances Drost Solo Artist Page and "like" me.  

There.  

I did it.  

Ouch, that's hard!

The whole idea of this has taken me a long time to get used to and I still squirm at it.  But the truth is, I don't mind 'liking' people that I really like, so why not give others the opportunity to do the same for me?  So here's my bite for the day.......put my neck out and ask you to 'like' me.

"Like" me if you like me by clicking here!  (then look for a 'like' button and press it).

   

Thank you!