Oh, that I would not Miss the chance To know you Past your likes Past your dislikes The chance To offer time As a gift for us both- After all, that is The only way We truly connect Occupying The same space In the physical In the technological Either has the ability To spark the same magic Oh, that I would not Miss the chance To know you Due to the foolishness Of a word Such as busy- Is there really such a thing, anyway?
Thanks again to Ali Grimshaw for continuing to facilitate thoughtful, poignant poetry circles. http://flashlightbatteries.blog
The day Left me Deep In thought A day Covered In warm Sunlight And falling Leaves Sweet life in Your small hand Holding mine As we walked across Yellowing grass Rosy cheeks Squinting eyes As you reached up For me to lift you As you reached up And touched The red leaves Clinging To the tree A day Covered In life While also Holding space For death- I am left Thankful Clinging To rest
A Warm Blanket
Just like that The red leaves Greeting me With a smile Every day for weeks Fell to the ground Their days of Waving In the wind Left behind A few remain But if I asked I’m sure they Would admit Being ready To let go And join The others- Though I knew The day was Approaching That red blanket Was a surprise I felt sad For a moment Until I imagined The warm grass Underneath
Early in the morning, on my twenty-seventh birthday, you made a mom. And today, you turn twenty-seven. The significance is not lost on me.
The weeks leading up to your birth were traumatic. Your birth itself was traumatic. Waiting to hear your first cry. Seeing your tiny translucent face. And though I remember those moments well, I now see them thru a different lens. Your dad, me, and you were covered in love by family and friends.
You were a good baby. Your dad and I had no idea what we were doing but figured it out. You always loved music and books. Oh, and Legos. When your sister and brother came along, you loved them, too.
We’ve hit quite a few milestones together. The day you turned thirteen, I turned forty. I took you to your first rock concert. How old were you? Marching band, guitar lessons, prom, high school graduation. I will never forget the day we dropped you off at college. I cried the whole drive there and back.
Now you’re married to the sweetest girl and have your own life. Both of you are passionate about education. And you are working toward your doctorate in educational psychology. A life-long learner if I ever knew one.
I have the privilege of watching as you figure out this crazy, wonderful, beautiful life you get to live with a gentle spirit.
I am so proud of you. And I am thankful we share this day. Happy twenty-seventh birthday, Robert Allan Morris! ❤️
Unwelcome thoughts interrupted my morning. In those early moments when it was unclear if I was awake or still dreaming. Images that made my heart sink.
An image of me trying to secure a class of elementary students in my storage closet. Was there enough room for everyone? Wait, there is a glass view window in the classroom door. Can I lock the closet door from the inside?
Next, my daughter is in a similar scene. Except hers is a high school special education classroom.
I know why these thoughts appeared today.
A result of the news yesterday.
Another school shooting…
There have been so many in our country, it is impossible to keep track. That statement makes me sad. And while I know I cannot live in that sadness, it must be acknowledged.
I choose not to live my life in the what if’s. Yet, as an educator, these stories are troubling. As a spouse and parent of educators, they are personal. For all of us, they are heartbreaking.
I do not write to offer a solution. Only to express my heart. The heart of a teacher who loves her students and would do anything to protect them. A teacher, like many others, who are tired of the ugly truths that bring these intrusive thoughts.
I am thankful for all the smiling faces that greeted me as they entered our beautiful school this morning. Those smiles helped push the sadness away.
Ok, well…maybe not so simple this Sunday. 😉 This Thanksgiving was not what I had planned or expected. It did, however, remind me of what is truly important. And it reminded me to be thankful for time with those I love, no matter the amount. So many reasons to be thankful. ❤️
Already in Motion
A child Growing In love Protected Encouraged Carried when Stretches of Road turn Curvy and steep By those Refusing To give up
A parent Fluctuating Between Carrying And being Carried Discovering A profound truth- Once a child Always a child Once a parent Always a parent
Each role Evolving As the years Slip by Until a choice Becomes Necessary- Whether To embrace Or ignore Shifts already In motion
Although Avoiding May seem Easier Embracing Offers Promise- A heart Filled to Overflowing Even when It is broken
Every seven years or so, my parents’ anniversary falls on Thanksgiving Day. This is one of those years. Today marks fifty-seven years!
We had planned to celebrate together this year. Due to my dad’s recent hospitalization and health issues, those plans changed.
Although disappointed we are not together today, I remain thankful.
Thankful for time spent with my parents earlier this week. Thankful for the example of their marriage. Thankful for the encouragement and support from my husband, Gart. Thankful for our three grown children and daughter-n-law. Thankful for the family I grew up with and the one I married into.
Wishing you all a Happy Thanksgiving! ❤️🧡💛🤎
Tended Hearts
Tend to the one Sitting near Let them Tend to you Better, worse Richer, poorer Sickness, health Isn’t that how the promise goes- No longer Left alone With only My thoughts Fighting a fight I will never win Now together Your heart Close enough That I can Feel it beating In time with mine Better, worse Richer, poorer Sickness, health Thankful For each day Our hearts Are tended By each other
Update on Dad. He is home from the hospital, feeling much better. With doctors’ guidance and mom’s help, learning to live with congestive heart failure. I plan to visit again soon. ❤️
We used to live in a two-story house. It was great for growing kids. All their bedrooms were upstairs, making it quiet for mom and dad downstairs.
Whenever they would get home from school, shoes were kicked off at the bottom of the stairs. This was not an expectation or house rule. It is just what they did. At some point, we placed a small storage bench at the bottom of the stairs. A place just for shoes.
I can picture them now. Shoes off, heading up the stairs. It was time to relax after homework and a snack, of course.
Hi, Mom! Hi! How was school? Homework?
Kids are all grown up. We no longer have stairs. Nor the same number of shoes.
Today, I decided to clean the laundry room. Ours is attached to the garage. And often becomes the drop zone for lots of non-laundry stuff. It is small, but there is a counter for folding.
Once the counter was cleaned off, I knew it needed a little something. Maybe a cute laundry sign. Something small, simple. Just enough to encourage us to keep it clean.
My daughter, Rachel, and I went shopping this afternoon. Looking at Christmas decorations and possible décor for the laundry room. I had just about given up when we saw the perfect sign.
Not at all what I had pictured, yet, perfect!
I know only close friends and family will likely enter our home through the garage. But I hope those that do take the message to heart. Like the kids when they were little, kick off those shoes and let go of their worries. If they’re lucky, there might even be snacks!
I continue to be amazed at the connections near and far created through blogging and am grateful for all who take the time to read and reflect. And I have a favor to ask. If you have not already, would you consider purchasing my first poetry collection, If I Were Made of Glass?
Friends, family, and my WordPress community, I am thankful for you! ❤️
Bright Sunshine Ushers in A new day Along with it A new perspective Yesterday The sky was Sleepy Gray Still Do you think Like us, it also Needed rest? Thinking Quiet Still Appreciating Each moment Given Accepting Each goodbye Spoken Certain The sweetest Symbol For love Rooted deep In our hearts Is a smile Accompanied By tears
We will be driving home today. And though I am confident in my dad’s medical care and progress, it was hard to say goodbye.
This morning, the sun shone brightly on Pinnacle Mountain. A landmark that was crucial in my growing up years. Whether viewing it from a distance or standing on its peak, always enamored with its beauty.
When trying to explain where I grew up. Have you heard of Pinnacle Mountain? I grew up out in the country, about three miles from there.
I was thankful for its beautiful colors this morning to guide us out.
Look at you Standing there Confidently Exposed Pieces of your Outer shell Left shimmering In the light Gentle reminder Of what was Before The release Of all that Was heavy Smiling at Passersby No longer Concerned With hiding What is Underneath Instead Baring a gift Story of Transformation- Beauty may Only be Skin deep But love And truth Grace your roots
Driving to the hospital this morning, I couldn’t help noticing the trees. Colors are still beautiful, though beginning to fade. A birch tree caught my eye. Only a few of its yellow leaves remained. As the leaves fluttered, I smiled. Look at you! 😊
My dad has been diagnosed with congestive heart failure. I had heard this term but now have a better understanding. It does not happen overnight. And though treatable, it does not go away. He is breathing easier and hence feeling better. Doctors are working on a treatment plan which hopefully includes going home soon.
Not having a definite timeline is frustrating. But that is ok. Life is precious. And I continue to be thankful for our time together. ❤️
Piano Girl 