A patch of baby blue
Cheerfully smiled, Good morning
A welcomed greeting
Following recent gray
Heavy-mist days-
Even the sun
Attempted a greeting
But its rays produced only
A white glow behind
The lingering clouds-
An overcast day lay ahead
But one glance in the rearview
And there was that smiling
Patch of baby blue-
Reminded me of you
Your brief smile in passing
Always a welcomed sight
Remains close by-
Whether the day is long
Whether the day is gloomy
Whether I’m simply wishing
For more time with you
Tag: family
Simply Sunday
Wrapping and Unwrapping
Bright colored paper
Covered in pretty designs
Artfully placed around gifts
With the help of sticky tape, of course-
Shiny bows, perfectly placed
The recipient’s name, neatly written
Waiting to be opened
As soon as we are together
Recollections, clear and faint
Covered with faces and places
Interlaced around my heart
With the help of time, of course-
A name, sweetly spoken for each face
A feeling taking me back to each place-
Waiting to be shared
Whenever we are together
An endless supply exists
For these instances of
Wrapping and unwrapping-
Joy linked with grief
Love bound to loss
Sealed with mercy and grace of course-
Working to create
An entire lifetime
Fill in the Blank
World’s Greatest ___________
Chocolate comes to mind
Though I’m not sure that contest
Will ever have a unanimous winner
And it’s certainly not one I can enter-
Let’s keep brainstorming
Mom? Wife? Daughter? Friend?
Each of these is a tall order
And let’s face it, any trophy awarded
Can be instantly taken away
Over one sideways look-
I suppose some things should
Not be a competition
But, instead, a journey
Filled with love, joy, regrets, mistakes,
Forgiveness, grace, dirty diapers, and sleepless nights-
The list and the lessons are endless
Dear Grief
My attempts to ignore you
These past few days were futile
You just kept knocking –
I should have expected your visit
After all, It’s Christmas time
Dad loved Christmas
Baking pies, giving gifts, helping others
I miss him–
That’s why I opened the door
And let you in
To remember how much I miss him-
At first, your visit caused panic
Sending me on a fruitless search
Through old voicemails
Somehow, the resulting tears
Cleared space for sweet memories-
One year, when I was grown
Dad gave me a tiny doll for Christmas
I would always be his little girl-
What I’m trying to say is
Keep Knocking, Grief
I may not answer right away
Still, I promise I won’t forget
A Little Math
When I taught elementary school, one question from students always made for interesting conversations.
How old are you, Mrs. Morris?
I would walk to the whiteboard and write a math problem. The current year minus my birth year. Once they solved the problem, they had their answer.
I’m no longer teaching, but it feels like a new math problem is in order this year.
Our oldest son, Robert, was born on my twenty-seventh birthday. As of today, we’ve shared thirty birthdays.
Simple addition, perhaps. But an answer accompanied by exponential joy.
Happy Birthday to us!
Simply Sunday
A Favor
Short drives
Long drives
Dropping off
Picking up
To the airport and back
Or a two-hour road trip
To a chosen halfway
Meeting spot-
Each path is an opportunity
Not simply a destination-
A choice to spend
A little extra time
Together-
Have a great trip!
We will miss you!
Welcome home!
Until next time!
A simple favor?
Perhaps
But sometimes
The simplest of gestures
Connect our hearts with
The strongest of ties
One week ago, we celebrated our daughter’s wedding. Yesterday, we picked up the newlyweds from the airport. Friday, we drove my mom halfway home after a sweet visit. Her sister met us and drove Mom the rest of the way home. Today, I will pick up my friend from the airport.
Each instance subtly reminds me of the importance and the passing of time. It is a sacred space not to be taken for granted.
Simply Sunday
Yesterday, we celebrated the marriage of our daughter, Rachel, and her fiance, Austen. Surrounded by family and friends, they promised to love and care for each other, no matter what.
Their smiles spoke as strongly as their words.
It was a beautifully perfect day, covered in clear blue skies, heartfelt vows, and love expressed for the happy couple.
So many emotions were felt and memories made. This mom needs time to reflect. But one thing is for certain, the Father of the Bride and I could not be happier.
More to come…❤️
Simply Sunday
Too Many Blankets
One can never have
Too many blankets
Lightweight, flowy ones
Perfect for wrapping
Around exposed shoulders
On a surprisingly chilly Spring evening
Plush, heavy ones
Covering all except your face
On a snowy Winter morning
Then there are those blankets
Whose importance resides
Not with their physical qualities
But their purpose in a specific moment
Or particular place in time-
The first swaddle snuggly wrapped
Around your sleeping baby
Grandmother’s quilt
A childhood treasure
Proudly draping the back of your sofa
More than a blanket
More than a memory
A covering of love
Wrapped around your heart
Always ready to comfort,
To warm, to protect
Whether tears fall
In celebration or grief
Time change proved to be a bumpy night in Oklahoma. Heavy rain, strong winds, and tornado sirens filled the overnight. Our power is out. Looking out the window this morning, I see the sky is beginning to lighten, and the wind is calm. I’m grateful to be on the couch with a blanket. We are ok.
Seasoning
A sweet aroma calls
But no one is allowed
In the kitchen
Until it’s time-
Mind focused
Hands steady
Intentionally reaching
For each ingredient
Knowing the use
Of certain seasonings
Expresses feelings
Difficult to put into words-
Dinner’s ready! Come fix your plate!
Tired, satisfied, he sits
Watching, listening
Waiting to see if the flavor
Conveys the richness
Of the love with which
The meal was prepared-
Ah! Sweet silence
Do you have someone in your life who loves to cook? Not just for the sake of cooking, but as a sign of love for those receiving. I’m beginning to understand, as a recipient, the meaning behind the words-Everyone out! 😉❤️
Sawdust
I see your light
Seems impossible
You are no longer here-
I cannot hear your voice
Or hold your hand
Hands rough from years
Of hard work-carpentry
I see your light
As surely as the
Smell of sawdust
From freshly cut wood
Carries me back to
My childhood and you
Just getting home from work
I see your light
In everything you built
A tiny birdhouse
Your grandson’s toybox
Our family home
Churches near and far
I see your light
Reflected in all those
You loved so dearly-
How I wish
I could see your face
How I miss my sweet Dad! There are tears some days. But there are precious memories everyday. ❤️
I wrote this poem in a recent poetry circle. Thankful for such a beautiful, safe space that allows me to be me.
Piano Girl 