Adventures Old and New

On By Piano girl6 Comments

Greetings from Massachusetts! My first visit to this beautiful state. Even though the weather was cloudy and rainy upon arrival, I quickly noticed the many shades of green. No matter where I looked, a different type of tree. Some familiar, others not.

This morning the sun is shining, and the sky is a perfect blue! I am excited to explore with my Aunt Martha and Uncle James. Such a treat! 💚

View from their lovely backyard in Lee, Massachusetts.

Chanel No. 5-Reblog from September, 2019

I don’t wear a lot of perfume. I’ve had a couple of favorites as an adult, but allergy sensitivities often keep me from enjoying them. Currently, I own one bottle of Chanel No. 5.

I’m not sure how long I’ve had this particular bottle. During our recent unpacking, it caught my eye. I could not remember the last time it was open. The design is so classic and pretty, I decided to leave it out.

One morning last week while getting ready for school, that bottle of Chanel caught my eye again. This time, I opened it and placed a small drop on my finger, then dabbed it on my neck and wrists. “It might be nice to wear a little perfume again,” I thought.

As the familiar scent filled the air, a flood of memories filled my mind.

When I was a little girl, visits to my Aunt Martha and Uncle James’s house were a treat. They, along with their children-Jim, Angela, and Brad-moved several times. I remember trips to Fayetteville, Memphis, and Louisiana. Typically, it was a week-long visit during summer vacation.

Some memories are as clear as a photograph. Dressing my cousin, Angela, up in her Raggedy Ann doll clothes. Riding the bus with my cousin, Jimmy, from Little Rock to Memphis and spilling an entire big bag of M&Ms. Kick boxing with Uncle James. Rolling a piano from room to room so I could play while Martha and James painted their house.

So, why did this sweet smell cause such reminiscing? Because Aunt Martha always had a bottle of Chanel No. 5. And when I visited, she would let me wear some of her perfume. Just a tiny drop on my finger, then dabbed on my neck and wrists. Such a treat for a little girl.

I continue to be amazed by the beautiful complexity of the heart and mind. The simple scent of perfume has the power to transport me back in time. It leads me to precious childhood memories. And it reminds me that the love I experienced then has only grown over the years.

I still live far away from Aunt Martha and Uncle James. I look forward to our visits, no matter how far apart. And I am thankful for time spent with them as a child.

Who would have thought a bottle of Chanel No. 5 could make such an impression on one little girl? 😉

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl7 Comments

Father’s Day

Five days
Waiting
As doctors
Prepared
To repair
To replace
Pieces of
Your heart
Restoring
Strength to
The rhythm
Of your days
Five days
Worth
Waiting

I snapped the first photo on Dad’s first day in the hospital. Due to COVID regulations, visitations were limited and only one of us at a time, so I was thankful for these moments. The second was on the day he was released to go home after open-heart surgery. Happy Father’s Day, Dad! I love you! ❤️

Spoonful of Honey

On By Piano girl7 Comments

When considering
Items in my kitchen
Which one do
I most resemble
Smooth pottery mug
Patiently waiting
To hold warm coffee
Or comforting tea
Maybe a teaspoon
Carrying sweet sugar
Or golden honey
Some days I am warm
Sweet and comforting
Helpful…
But there are other days,
Days I can be more like
The cheese grater
If I’m not careful
Careful to think
Before I speak
Careful to get
Enough rest
Oh, I don’t
Want to be
The cheese grater
Fussy, irritating
No-I’d much prefer
The spoonful of honey
I’m sure that is
Your preference, too

Raising Your Hand-A letter to my former student

On By Piano girl10 Comments

I will never forget the first time I saw you, my new student. You hobbled sideways down the hall. Balance so bad, I was sure you would fall. Yet, you had learned the quickest way to get around or getaway!

One of your arms had to be amputated when you were a baby. Your vision and hearing were impaired. I cried at the thought of being your teacher.

I am not proud of my initial reaction. But I had no idea where to begin, how to connect. And no idea how you or I would manage with the other students in my classroom. As is so often the case, you became the teacher.

Oh, it was far from easy. Working to discover what you understood, what you wanted or needed. Sometimes it was trial and error, but you would not allow anyone to give up. And though you were often frustrated, your happy moments were life-changing.

One, in particular, is forever etched on my heart.

Our class was fortunate to have a college student volunteer in our room weekly. He was tall and quiet, and the students loved him. He would push them high in the swings on the playground.

One day, as the students were lining up to come in from recess, something interesting happened. Our young college friend was picking each student up so they could touch the ceiling where they stood. Each one excitedly waited for their turn. Each one reached up as if they were reaching the sky. It was a precious sight.

And then I saw you, my new friend. You were hobbling sideways up the grassy slope as fast as you possibly could move. Making your way up the sidewalk, fully aware of what was happening in that line.

You jumped up and down in front of our college friend, raising your one hand high in the air. There may not have been any words, but you were clearly saying, “My turn! Pick me up now. I want to touch that ceiling.” So, he did. And I have never heard such sounds of pure joy in my life.

I often wonder what happened to you. Even then, I worried about what your future would hold. I hope you are safe and well. You taught me so much in the short time I knew you.

If I Were Made of Glass by Kelley Morris Release Day! — The Stories In Between

On By Piano girl12 Comments

Yesterday marked three years since I began this blog. And today marks the official release day for my first poetry collection! I continue to be amazed at the connections I’ve made through this WordPress family. So many creative and supportive spirits. I am glad this has become a part of my journey.

I must say a big thank you to my husband, Gart. I clearly remember him saying, “Have you ever thought about starting a blog?” It seems many rewarding things in my life began with him asking, “Have you ever thought about…?” He has a way of seeing things in me and helping me have the confidence to pursue them.

And, of course, thank you to River Dixon for taking a chance on me! I am honored for my writing to have a home at Potter’s Grove Press.

Available now in eBook and paperback. The debut poetry collection from Kelley Morris. If you are interesting in supporting Amazon alternatives, the eBook is available at the Potter’s Grove store. (paperback coming soon) The poems in this collection are reflections and stories of both the beauty and heartache of life and death, family, friendships, and […]

If I Were Made of Glass by Kelley Morris Release Day! — The Stories In Between

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl5 Comments

The Adventure

“Well, we made it! I have no idea how you got me here, but here we are.” I laughed at my mother-in-law’s comment as I dropped her off at the airport. “I’m not sure either.”

I have driven to the airport many times. However, this was my first time since we moved. The route was completely different from the one I had known for the previous fifteen years.

I do not have a strong innate sense of direction. Nor have I spent time improving my directional skills. I am a visual learner and tend to find landmarks helpful. But if you tell me to turn north, south, east, or west, I will almost certainly get lost. Or at the least, a little confused.

When going someplace new, the maps program on my phone is a reliable friend. Enter the address, tap Go, start driving. (Exactly how we got to the airport.) 😉 Not only is there a visual guide, but audio instructions are also available.

Am I on a journey? Yes! Is there an eventual destination? Definitely! But if I focus only on the directions and stopping point, I just might miss the adventure!

Peaceful Resolution

On By Piano girl15 Comments

My mind
Can hardly
Separate
The words
From melody
Notes rising
And falling…one
After the other
In seasons of distress and grief
Can you hear it?
I silently sing
The phrase
As I write-
Many times
It has entered
My thoughts
Unannounced…
Waiting for
A phone call
Sitting in a
Hospital room
Driving to
A funeral…
The music repeats
Easing tension
On the last note
The last word
Of the new phrase
My soul has often found relief
Listen closely
A peaceful
Resolution
Sweet hour of prayer

Sweet Hour of Prayer Kelley Morris, piano

Growing Up

On By Piano girl10 Comments

My husband likes to tell people I was raised in a commune. I was not. I suppose, however, that a simple description could be misinterpreted. Let’s see.

Picture a two-lane country highway winding through small towns. Between two of those towns, turn onto a narrow paved road with thick trees lining both sides. Drive about a quarter of a mile until you see a clearing. My house was the first on the left.

Here is the unusual part. My grandparents’ house was in the center. And at any time over the last fifty-plus years, between four and six of their nine children lived nearby. Not a typical neighborhood with straight streets and cull de sacs. More like a valley. When standing in the middle, you could see almost everyone’s home.

Of course, we were free to come and go as we pleased. 😉 And though I left at the wise-old age of seventeen, there is no other place I would have wished to grow up.

Growing up there meant family. It meant security. And no, it was not a peaceful utopia. There were disagreements. But none that could not be solved over a cup of coffee or a few days of staying home.

My mom also grew up there, though, during her childhood, there were more forests for exploring. And with nine children, they needed the space to roam. The original house was small, with only two bedrooms and an outhouse.

I have heard stories of sleeping sideways on the bed, lots of giggling and being scared to go outside at night. Mom remembers as a small child when men came to dig a hole for their first electricity pole.

As you can imagine, they were hard workers. Whether planting in the field or washing clothes on a scrub board, there were always chores to be done. But there was also always fun to be had.

Some days, her dad would come home with a pocket full of penny candy. Enough for everyone. On Fridays, they would have chili dogs and ice cream. Can you imagine dividing a carton of ice cream for nine children? They would open the entire carton and cut it into equal squares.

My mom is now in her seventies. Four of the siblings (including my mom and dad), some grandkids, and great-grandkids live in the clearing today. Only one of her siblings, her oldest sister, Pearl, is no longer living.

Mom recently shared some thoughts that touched me. She described being overcome with emotion thinking of how hard her mom worked to make sure the kids had fun times. She was so young herself; it could not have been easy. Mom said the older she gets, the greater her appreciation for her mom grows. I think I am beginning to understand…

If I Were Made of Glass by Kelley Morris — The Stories In Between

On By Piano girl5 Comments

Update: The paperback is available on Amazon today! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B095DRCXNH/ref=cm_sw_em_r_mt_dp_10SVGW2ZKGD56QHABRXV

Also check out https://pottersgrovepress.com/product/if-i-were-made-of-glass/ The ebook will be available there tomorrow!

Available to pre-order now is the debut poetry collection from Kelley Morris. Amazon release date for eBook and paperback is June 15, 2021. The eBook will be available on June 8 from the Potter’s Grove store. Click here to pre-order The poems in this collection are reflections and stories of both the beauty and heartache […]

If I Were Made of Glass by Kelley Morris — The Stories In Between

Only two more weeks until the official release date! Just in time for summer!

Simply Sunday

On By Piano girl1 Comment

Dirt On My Hands

I am the first to admit I can be a little prim and proper regarding dirt and sweat. I have fun memories of playing in the mud as a kid. Didn’t bother me then.

Yesterday, I suggested we go by flowers to plant in our front bed. My husband agreed. But guess what? They don’t transplant themselves.

My job was taking the plants out of the pots, breaking up the soil, and carefully placing them in their new home. My hands got dirty. Black, rich soil even managed to get under my fingernails.

Before you pat me on the back, this was a short project. Only a little dirt and sweat. 😉 The results? Definitely worth getting a little dirt on my hands.