Tag: life

Little Ones

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They used to come as a shock. News stories of missing children. Parents crying on the news, begging for their child to be found. Putting on an innocent face. Declaring they have no idea what might have happened to their precious child. But in the end, they are responsible.

I remember clearly the first of these stories that stuck with me, and that was over 20 years ago. I won’t mention the details. I don’t believe it would help. But I remember sitting in a Subway with Gart, hearing the breaking news. I cried, thinking, “How could a parent do this to their own children?”

Now when I hear one of these stories (one was recently in the national news) my heart breaks. My first thought? The parents are responsible, the ending will be tragic, and my heartbreak will turn to anger.

This recent story was no different. A child was reported missing. Past reports of abuse and horrible living conditions surfaced. There were years when the child was removed from the home. And now? The parents have been arrested…this precious child found dead not far from his home.

This could have easily been the story of my sweet friend, Marie. Thankfully, she got out. But only after many years in an abusive home. Read more about her story here. https://pianogirlthoughts.com/2019/04/01/child-abuse-awareness/

Why am I writing about this now? Because I continue to see and hear the stories of abuse. I have no answers but acknowledge the need for diligence in reporting and supporting survivors.

Check out this personal story from a survivor. Tressa bravely shares her story in hopes of helping others. https://alifeofabuse.home.blog/

“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven.” Matthew 18:10

Rollercoaster

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A rollercoaster often starts out slow, moving upward, tension building as it climbs. Once it reaches the top of the first incline, the real adventure begins. Twists, turns, rolls, and spins jolt the whole body. Squeals and screams express excitement and/or fear, depending on the rider. Then it stops, just abruptly as it began. Cue feelings of relief.

When I was younger, rollercoasters were a thrill. Riding over and over, I would laugh and scream, loving that rush of adrenaline. That is no longer the case, and it hasn’t been for quite a while. As a matter of fact, I once had an anxiety attack in front of my kids involving a rollercoaster.

We had taken a family vacation to Kansas City. A fun road trip which would include shopping, museums, eating, and an amusement park. The kids were excited. Each had a favorite activity on the list. And everyone was looking forward to the amusement park. Everyone except me.

Looking back, I now realize anxiety crept in before we even arrived in Kansas City. Any mention of the park would cause my stomach to nervously turn and tears would start to form. I would suddenly feel tense, my heart racing. And then I would push it all away, trying to breathe and focus on the activity at hand.

What I didn’t realize, was that pushing these feelings away did not get rid of them. It only buried them temporarily. And when we simply bury feelings, they are sure to resurface at some unsuspecting moment. When they do, controlling them becomes almost impossible.

We stood in line for a ride, the Patriot, I think. As we waited, I felt sick. I found myself taking deep breaths, working hard to keep it together. I told myself, “You are not being logical. There is nothing to be afraid of.” But I could not seem to accept what I knew to be true.

As we approached our turn, I didn’t know what to do. My thoughts were frantic, not making any sense. Once the gate opened for our family to take our seats, I couldn’t get on. Embarrassed, I said, “I can’t do this,” and walked through to the exit.

My tears could not be held any longer. I was so mortified. My family was having an adventure, and I was missing out. Not wanting the kids to see me so upset, I attempted to pull it together.

As my husband and the boys took off to ride more rides, my sweet Rachel hung out with me. We got snow-cones and sat and talked. She reassured me that it was ok. My embarrassment was not erased, but I knew my family understood.

I did manage to return to that ride before our day was done. Somehow, I pushed through the anxiety and rode the darn thing one time. Once was enough. I certainly cannot say I enjoyed the experience, but there was a brief sense of relief. A few minutes of overcoming the illogical which often accompanies anxiety.

Support of family and friends, medication, recognition, and prayer have helped decrease these feelings and make the remaining ones more manageable. It would be foolish to think I will never experience anxiety again. Since life itself is much like that rollercoaster, it is to be expected.

My goal is to continue learning how to live contently, despite events or circumstances. That includes times of grief and celebration. Recognizing that the rollercoaster does not control my reactions. That is on me. And admitting that I sometimes need a little help is the first step in beating those feelings of anxiety.

Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. Psalm 139:23

Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content. Philippians 4:11

Good Girl

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I never thought I’d have a dog inside the house, much less two. But we have now for about 13 years. Poppy, a runt miniature dachshund, was our first.

We adopted Poppy from an animal rescue group and surprised our kids. She was tiny and sweet. Slept in the crook of my arm for the first several months of her life.

Several years later, we decided Poppy could use some company. My husband really wanted a bigger dog. Some dear friends needed to find a new home for their chocolate lab, Ginger. We were the perfect fit!

Poppy and Ginger got along. I’d say they eventually became friends, though others might disagree. Maybe it was more like sisters who tolerate each other. 😉

Poppy often reminded Ginger who was in charge. She would stand by Ginger’s bed and stare until Ginger moved. Of course, Ginger also liked to sneak by Poppy’s food bowl and take a bite when no one was looking.

Over the past couple of years, they both turned gray and started to slow down. They were a little fussy but still sweet and much more mellow. My daughter often laughed, ” It’s like we have two grandma dogs living with us.”

Ginger’s eyesight began to fail as well as her hips. Although she still had moments of spark, most evenings she would whimper and cry. There was no doubt she was in pain. A couple of falls solidified the decision to visit the vet.

Gart took her yesterday for an evaluation. We all knew it was probably time. She did not come back home with him.

Our house was too quiet last night. Poppy was confused. She sniffed everywhere as if she were searching. I believe she was missing her friend.

This morning’s routine was different. Ginger wasn’t there for me to let outside and feed. Her bowl sits empty. There’s an air of sadness.

We will miss you Ginger girl. We will miss the way you would walk by us. Walk by and lick our shoes. Walk by and lick our jeans. Walk by and finish Poppy’s food. But mostly we will miss the way you would walk by, wag your tail, and lay your head in our laps.

You were such a good girl. 🙂

Kitchen Drawers

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Getting a house you’ve lived in for fifteen years ready to sell is quite an undertaking. We spent much of this weekend working on small projects. Cleaning out closets, replacing light fixtures and bulbs, packing up books. Each endeavor seemed small on its own, but when added together, felt like a big accomplishment.

The kitchen pantry and drawers were in great need of some TLC. My daughter, Rachel, helped with the pantry. We removed everything from each shelf, threw away anything out-of-date, wiped down the surfaces, and put back what items remained. It looks so much better!

Next were the kitchen drawers. I had started to clean them out on several occasions. But every time I opened one and looked in, I felt overwhelmed. Today I would tackle one drawer. The main silverware drawer. Surely, I could manage just this one drawer.

I placed the contents of the drawer on the kitchen counter. Looking down, I noticed the paper lining at the bottom. Oh my. Was this the same paper that was there when we moved in? I’m afraid so. I had initially planned to replace it, but life happens.

As I stared at the paper, white with little blue and pink flowers, old and outdated, there was no question what had to happen. It had to be ripped out, every last sticky piece. And believe me, it was sticky. Once the paper was removed and the drawer bottom cleaned, I lined the drawer with some new, updated material.

What a difference! Not only did I manage to clean out this one drawer, but I also cleaned out all the other kitchen drawers!

A small treasure from today’s work! 🙂

I know this sounds like a minor task. It does not provide the selling power of say, new countertops or tile. But as I looked at the old paper, debating whether or not to tear it out, I remembered what it was like to move into a new house. Especially when I was a young wife and mom. I wanted everything to be just right but did not have the time or energy for even a small project such as this.

When we moved in, the task of tearing out that paper would have sent me over the edge. Granted, it was probably in better shape than it is now. So, I chose to leave it and give it a good scrubbing. It is nice to know the next person who lives here won’t have to make that choice.

I have no idea who will buy our home. I hope it is a young family like we were when we moved in. Kids running around upstairs, having their own space to play and grow. A family enjoying the openness of this house, the light from the large windows, the park at the end of our street. A mom who appreciates a simple gesture. A gesture such as the removal of the sticky paper from the bottom of the kitchen drawers.

My Favorite Seat

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The past several weeks, I’ve spent many hours in my favorite seat. Hours practicing piano, preparing for rehearsals with young musicians. Some were singers, others played instruments. All of them dedicated and hardworking students. My job? To be their accompanist, providing support for their music-making endeavors.

Opportunities like these often fill my head with thoughts of more performing jobs. Memories of the years when playing piano consumed more of my time begin to surface. And although those were good times, this train of thought can be a dangerous one. Feelings of restlessness begin to creep in, causing uncertainty and doubts about my teaching.

Not so on this particular occasion…

This past Thursday, I spent the day accompanying high school students at State Solo-N-Ensemble contest. That evening I also participated in their chamber music concert. Such a fun, rewarding day of performing.

What happened after the concert had the most surprising impact.

As I left the concert, my phone started buzzing. The students I had accompanied all day were sending thanks through text messages.

“Thank you for being my accompanist!!!”
“Thank you for everything, Mrs. Morris!”
“I loved playing music with you!”

Suddenly my thoughts were not on seeking more playing opportunities. My thoughts were on the amazing opportunities I already have. “Best of both worlds” kept entering my mind. Both worlds? What does that mean?

Ah…performing and teaching.

Yes, my favorite seat is behind the piano. However, I cannot spend all my time there. Time spent in a classroom is also important. I must recognize the value of getting off of that piano bench and teaching the next generation.

Who knows, maybe some of my elementary students will grow up to be accomplished musicians. Maybe future requests for an accompanist will come from some of them. I hope so!

Accompanying my son, Robert. 🙂

“Mrs. Morris Said So!”

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A parent stopped me in the hall this morning. ”Our family had an interesting conversation about you at our house last night.” My first thought was, “Oh dear. What did I say?”

Her daughter, a first grader, was sharing all the things she wanted to be when she grows up. Her older brother chimed in, saying she would have to choose. She could not be all those things. Her response? ”Yes, I can! Mrs. Morris said so!”

As the mom and I continued to talk, I remembered an impromptu conversation from her daughter’s class the day before. At the end of class, we watched the Wintergatan Marble Machine video. Students love this video, and so do I! It sparks imagination and encourages great discussions. https://youtu.be/IvUU8joBb1Q

After students watch the video for the first time, I ask the following questions. Do you think the marble machine creator is a musician? An engineer? A builder? A mathematician? The answer is always yes! This leads to conversations about what students want to be when they grow up. I love to encourage the idea that they don’t have to be just one thing.

On this particular day, I mentioned that I had not always been a music teacher. Being curious little beings, several began to ask about my other jobs. So, I shared my list. I have worked as a piano teacher, staff accompanist, college instructor, paraprofessional, special education teacher, and currently an elementary music teacher.

Apparently, this one little girl took our conversation to heart. At home, after declaring, “Mrs. Morris said so!” she continued with “Mrs. Morris has been at least five or six different things.” Then she proceeded to share my list with her family. She really was listening!

Her mom and I had a good laugh. Our conversation ended on an encouraging note. “The kids just love you.” Her kind words started my day with a smile.

I’m thankful what stuck with her daughter was not, “Mrs. Morris was grumpy today.” Some days that is true. And I also learned an important lesson. Evidently “Mrs. Morris said so!” carries a lot more clout coming from a self-confident first-grader than from a grumpy Mrs. Morris. 😉

Kind Words

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”Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”

Most of us have likely heard or said some version of the above. It is often used to help kids cope with unkind words. But the truth is, words can hurt. What if we placed more emphasis on using kind words instead of simply ignoring the unkind ones? The results are much more powerful.

It’s impossible to understand the impact of kind words until you’ve been on the receiving end. Today I was on that receiving end. Wow! I didn’t know how much I needed those words until they were spilled out.

A simple text from a sweet friend saying, “Just thought you should know how valued, appreciated, and loved you are.” Tears came quickly, causing the remainder of the message to blur.

This thoughtful expression was overwhelming. It provided much-needed encouragement. It also reminded me the best way to teach the importance of using kind words is by example. Allow them to pour out, and affirm those on the receiving end.

This time of year, it is easy to put my head down and move full speed ahead. End of the school year activities, tired teachers, anxious kids. We can feel summer just around the corner. I can’t think of a better time to slow down, look up, and let some kind words flow.

Breathe

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Too much time and energy

Spent fretting over things

Far beyond my grasp

Tension…all it brings

Why such a battle

Between control and trust?

Learn to embrace the latter

Learn to ignore the first

There is a bigger picture

One I hope to see

If only I will let go

Allow myself to breathe

Pack a Bag!

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We are preparing to put our house on the market. Work to be done-minor repairs, small updates, painting. The tallest order being the painting of the entire interior. We’ve never experienced this before. We have painted a room or two, but not an entire house. Definitely a job for the professionals.

So, the professionals came yesterday. Originally they were coming later in the week. Not that any of the following would have changed…

The crew came early in the morning. We headed to school and work, not giving much thought to this process. Fast forward to the late afternoon. Drywall repairs all done. Windows covered and taped. Trim taped. Plastic tarps covering everything else, and I do mean everything.

The closet, bathtub, shower, and bathroom cabinets all sealed shut. I couldn’t get to my clothes, makeup, hairstyling stuff-nothing. Only one thing to do. Laugh and have a little adventure. Not too far, of course, we had work the next day.

Ryan headed to his friend’s house for the night. Gart and I made a Target run. A blue t-shirt for $8, underwear, toothpaste, and some inexpensive makeup. I would wear my jeans again but had to have a clean shirt and underwear. Deodorant? There was some in my desk drawer at school. Hair? Ponytail for the second day in a row.

After Target, we were ready to crash. A quick stop at Sprouts and we had dinner to take to the hotel. Thank goodness, our room had a microwave, coffee pot, and some decaf. The decaf a necessity to accompany the brownie we bought to share.

Getting ready the next morning, I realized my new blush and powder did not come with any brushes. Who knew Kleenexes could substitute? I glanced in the mirror-it would have to do.

Extra coffee helped me get through the day. A sweet kindergarten boy said, “I like your shirt, Mrs. Morris.” If he only knew. A 4th-grade girl gave me a hug and asked, “Are you okay, Mrs. Morris?” “Yes, I’m ok. Just a little tired,” I smiled. Pretty sure she could tell I was a little out of sorts.

Tonight our adventure continues. I’ve only cried once-Sorry, Gart. ❤ Ryan is at his friend’s house again. Another night in a hotel for us. This time I have a change of clothes, my own makeup, and flat iron. Oh, and I don’t have to wait until I get to school to put on deodorant. 😉

The painters will be finished tomorrow. Things will go back to normal. We will be one step closer to selling our house. The result will be well worth the little inconvenience.

I hope we never have the need to paint a whole house again. One thing is certain. If we do and the painters call to say, “We will be there tomorrow,” the first thing I will do is pack a bag!

An Old Friend

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I love old friendships. You know the ones. Those which don’t seem to recognize the passing of time. Even if you haven’t seen each other in years, you pick up right where you left off. Memories of times past mix with the present, providing a comforting familiarity.

Sometimes music is like those friendships. Certain songs are stored in memory banks. Suddenly one plays, and I’m transported back in time. I can remember clearly a specific person, place, or time. In that sense, a song is like an old friend.

Last weekend I rehearsed with some oboe players for an upcoming studio recital. I’ve accompanied this studio for many years, and have become very familiar with the repertoire. After the rehearsal, I offhandedly referred to my accompaniment book as “an old friend.”

Today was recital day! Students were well prepared, some a little nervous. With the exception of one new piece this year, each song was pulled from my memory bank. I smiled as we began to play.

Yes, the students were different, but the music was the same. The notes and rhythms were familiar. The phrases were comforting.

Obviously, a book of music is not the same as a person. But as I played these familiar songs today, it felt as if I was visiting an old friend.

My seat during the recital. 🙂