Tag: love

On the Horizon

On By Piano girl5 Comments

This current season of life brings many thoughts about the future. Especially the futures of our three children. I want them to experience contentment in today as they plan for tomorrow. Not an easy combination.

Next week, our family will celebrate both a high school and college graduation. Preparation for these events leads to many conversations concerning the future.

Our youngest son, Ryan, plans to start college in the fall. Our daughter, Rachel, will begin teaching next school year. Both plans require a commitment to the present, finishing the work at hand.

These are exciting times in the Morris household! And this past weekend, more excitement was added. Our oldest son, Robert, proposed to his girlfriend, Erin! ❤ We are beyond excited!

Several months back, Robert created a plan and got to work. He needed to purchase the ring, talk to her parents, choose a time and location. With everything in place, it was time.

Gart and I knew last week that he planned to propose over the weekend, but we did not know the details. And that was ok. This was his plan.

Then one night my phone rang. It was Robert. A call instead of a text usually means something important. 😉 Nervously he asked if we would like to drive to Dallas for a family lunch after the proposal. Yes! Of course!

Soon after that conversation, Gart walked in. I relayed Robert’s invitation. We smiled, both a little teary-eyed. ”We are going to have a daughter-in-law, ” he said. ”I think we did ok, Mama.” “I think so too.”

So here we are. Excited to see Ryan begin working toward a degree in animation and 3-D modeling. Excited to watch Rachel embrace a classroom full of new students as a special education teacher. Excited to witness Robert and Erin begin their journey together.

Gart and I will be their cheering section. Always here when they need us. And as we prepare for big changes on the horizon, we will remain content in the present. At least, that is our plan…

For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations. Psalm 100:5

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. 🙂

Endgame: The Mom Perspective

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My husband and I saw the much-anticipated Avengers: Endgame last night. He saw it the night before with the kids, but I was not able to go. No discussions were allowed until I also saw it, so that meant a 10:00 P.M. showing for us! I think we were the youngest people in the theater. 😉

Wow! It was amazing!

Today has been peppered with many discussions concerning the movie.

“Did you notice _____ ?” “Yes! What do you think happened to ____?”

Of course, many of the discussions went right over my head. There are some Marvel movies I have yet to see. And although I am able to appreciate the insight and knowledge of the Marvel world experts in my life, I don’t know all of the character origins and intricate details.

My take away from the movie was a bit different. As my daughter and I discussed our favorite scenes this morning, one thing stood out; the emphasis on family. There were multiple, meaningful parent/child moments woven beautifully throughout the film.

The perfect placement of these scenes created a powerful common thread through this tale of superheroes battling evil…the love of family. Some scenes showed previously established relationships.

• Scott Lang (Ant-Man) and his daughter
• Clint Barton (Hawkeye) and his daughter
• Thor and his mom, Frigga
• Thanos and his daughters, Nebula and Gamora

Other relationships were new and pleasantly surprising. Don’t worry. No spoilers here!

Looking at the above list, all but one represents a positive, loving relationship. Relationships where the parent is the provider, protector, or comforter. In number, the positive outweighs the negative. Again, no spoilers.

I hope to watch the movie again soon. New things will certainly catch my attention the second time. Maybe I will even gain a little more understanding of this Marvel universe.

One thing is for certain, I will pay even closer attention to those parent/child scenes. I don’t want to miss even one.

And yes, I am aware that this is an epic sci-fi superhero action movie. What can I say? I’m a mom. 🙂

Missing Papa

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Grief often invades without warning. This was my experience several nights ago, as I drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, my mind was reliving the night my father-in-law, Bob, passed away. Every detail as clear as that night, over three years ago. The tears began to flow.

Why are these thoughts appearing now? Upcoming graduations. Bob was so proud of his grandkids. And graduations were a big deal! Not something he would ever miss.

Ryan, the youngest, graduates high school in less than two weeks. Bob would be smiling, telling his friends about Ryan’s creative artwork and college plans.

My favorite picture of Bob and Ryan.

Rachel, the youngest granddaughter, graduates college at the same time. Bob would certainly brag to his friends, “You remember my granddaughter, Rachel? She already has a teaching job for next year!”

Color coordinated! 😉

His absence will be felt when each of them walks across the stage. I wish he was here. Such is the nature of grief.

This will not be a one-time experience. Future events will most assuredly bring similar emotions. Yet, we must continue to celebrate. Celebrate the present while remembering the past. Remembering the love of a Papa who would do absolutely anything for his grandkids.

Our whole family is missing Papa. And it’s okay to say it out loud. Saying it out loud brings us closer together. It helps us remember how much he loved us and how much we love him.

Easter Baskets & Sugar Cookies

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When the kids were little, I loved preparing for Easter. Shopping for baskets, candy, books, etc. Plastic eggs to fill and green plastic grass to lay them on. Sugar cookie baking was also part of our tradition. A variety of cookie cutters were used to create eggs, baby chicks, flowers, and crosses. A powdered sugar, milk, and food coloring glaze added the final touch.

After the kids went to bed, I would gather all my basket supplies. Once the plastic eggs were filled with jelly beans, they were placed carefully in their respective containers. Sitting on the fireplace hearth, they waited to be discovered the next morning. A plate of cookies sat on the kitchen table, often with a note for each kid.

After their basket discovery, it was off to church. The morning filled with beautiful music and powerful reminders of Christ’s love. Next came pictures and lunch with extended family. Oh, and Easter egg hunts. Indoors if it was raining. A full day of family fun!

This year the kids are 24, 21, and 18. No, I didn’t buy baskets or plastic grass. I did, however, buy plastic eggs, jelly beans, other candy treats, and baked cookies. Everything was placed on the dining room table creating an edible centerpiece. Plates of sugar cookies graced the kitchen counter.

Our family was not able to be together for the whole day. Some of us went to church, others came for lunch, others stopped by in the afternoon to visit. There were cute little to go bags they could fill with treats from the centerpiece. And pictures? Well, this is all I managed to snap.

Yes, this year was different. No cute little pics of the kids in their dressy clothes. No actual Easter baskets. No Easter egg hunt. But that’s ok. I spent time with my family. I was reminded of how much Christ loves me. It was a Happy Easter!

But I might have to buy Easter baskets next year… 😉

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!

Flat on my Face

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Flat on my face, not a position I would intentionally choose. This phrase conveys negative connotations and feelings of discomfort. Though it was not from a fall, I spent some time in this unpleasant position today.

I had an MRI this afternoon as a follow up to some previous tests. The check-in was not unusual. I filled out forms, answered questions, reviewed history, signed consents…donned lovely hospital fashions and prepared for an IV.

For this particular series of images, I had to lay flat on my stomach, face down, arms stretched out above my head. Towels covered everything and cushioned my face and elbows. As I said, not a position I would purposefully choose. But necessary, at least for a short while.

Earplugs in place and a panic button in hand, the table begins to slide into the tube. I would hear no voices until the test was finished, about thirty minutes unless I squeezed that panic button. And even though there were moments I wanted to shout, “Is anybody there? Are we almost done?” I remained still and silent, the panic button un-squeezed.

As the machine began to do its job, loud noises surrounded me. Many different timbres, volumes, and tempos filled the small space. Feelings of panic filled my head. “Just breathe. You can do this.” I began to pray. I silently sang some favorite hymns.

When anxious thoughts crept back in, I would start the whole process over. I must have repeated the same three hymns several times, not to mention Psalm 23. The words, “We’re all done,” never sounded so sweet. Pretty sure my response was, “Thank goodness!” 🙂

Changing back into my clothes, I looked in the mirror. Towel marks imprinted on my face. Gart noticed them as soon as I entered the waiting room. They wouldn’t last but provided a temporary reminder of the previous thirty minutes.

Tonight, those marks have disappeared. The loud noises quieted. Some amazing truths remain. Prayers are powerful (my own and my friends). Hymns and pep talks are powerful. Knowing Gart was in the waiting room the entire time, also powerful.

These truths all worked together to provide assurance. Assurance that I could keep from squeezing that panic button, and that I would not remain flat on my face.

Thinking of summer! 😉

Geneva’s Daughter

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”You remember Kelley. She’s Geneva’s daughter.”

Gart and I drove to Little Rock this weekend to visit my family. My mom and her siblings had a cousin reunion on Saturday. My memories of my mom’s cousins are vague. But what fun to watch and listen as they reminisced.

Also, my Aunt Elizabeth made a mayonnaise cake. Yummy! But that is a story for another day.

Sitting outside on the deck, I listened, chatted with family, enjoyed the sunshine. In the middle of all that, overheard the following. ”You remember Kelley. She’s Geneva’s daughter.”

Geneva’s daughter. I love that description. But what does it mean?

First, I have to tell you about Geneva. She is the fourth of nine siblings. Growing up, she never liked her name. Diagnosed with rheumatic fever as a child, she remembers being sick. In high school, she excelled in her classes and was a basketball star.

As an adult, she took care of our household. Worked successfully as a secretary in a variety of fields-business, education, church. Suffered from rheumatoid arthritis. Has been married to my dad for over 50 years.

Geneva bravely faced breast cancer. She is now a five-year survivor.

Even at 73, she does her hair and make-up every day. If someone asks why, “Because it just makes you feel better,” she replies. Within her family, known for writing poetry.

But what about her role as my mom? She taught me to sing “Jesus Loves Me” and took me to church. Purchased every Dr. Seuss book there is and helped me learn to read at a young age. Ordered Highlight magazines for me and my brother.

My mom spent hours waiting in her car while I was taking piano lessons. Found a way to purchase a violin when I came home in 4th grade announcing, “I signed up for orchestra today!” Encouraged me to go to college and graduate school.

Mom never gave up on me during difficult times. Ones due to poor choices on my part. She demonstrated the importance of family in her roles as sister, daughter, wife. Prayed faithfully (and continues to pray) for me and my family.

Is she perfect? No. Neither am I. She often frets too much. She sometimes struggles with relinquishing control. She has trouble letting go. So do I.

She is my mom, Nana to my kids, my friend. Her life experiences affect mine, as mine affect my children’s. Not a picture of perfection, but a picture of love. A ”no matter what” kind of love.

I’m proud and grateful to be described as Geneva’s Daughter.

Depleted

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I had brunch with my dear friend, Marina, this morning. We caught up over coffee and yummy food. It has been a busy couple of weeks, and friend time has been scarce. I don’t think I realized how much I needed this time until it was over.

Near the end of our visit, my friend looked at me and said, “You really are depleted, aren’t you?” I chuckled at first. She tends to use what I would call formal words in casual conversation. It is her way, and I love it. This term, however, stuck in my head. Depleted.

When I got home, I wrote the word down. Hmmm…an interesting word. Looking up the definition lead to a list of synonyms: exhausted, sapped, drained, expended. Yep, that’s how I’m feeling. (Honestly, I might have stayed in bed all day had my friend not called.)

Then I scrolled down to the definition part you never take time to read-the Latin word roots, etc. There I saw these words-emptied out. Wow! An entirely new perspective. In order for something to be emptied out, it must have been full at one point. This must also have been true of me, even if I can’t remember when right at this moment. 😉

Instead of thinking, “I’m so tired, there’s so much still to do.” What if I take the time to be refilled? What would that look like?

The upcoming week is musical performance week. Double responsibility. However, I can’t wait until it’s over to begin this process of refilling. So, what is my plan?

Take each day as it comes.
Pray and read-things that calm my thoughts.
Eat a healthy breakfast.
Drink more water.
Take short naps after school each day before call time.
Go to bed early.
Enjoy playing for this amazing show!

By the way, antonyms for depleted are energized and full. I know it will take more than a day to get there. Nevertheless, hopefully, this fresh perspective will remind me that when I am feeling depleted, it is time to slow down and remember to take care of myself. That is the only way I can go from depleted to full.

And this process might just begin by having brunch with a friend. 🙂

Purposefully Remembering

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Today marks three years since my father-n-law, Bob died. Each of us remembers him in our own way, with our own actions. Most importantly, we purposefully remember. We choose certain things that to others might seem insignificant, but to us say Papa, Dad, Bob.

Here are a few:

Peanut butter on pancakes
Wild Cherry Pepsi
Chocolate covered cherries
Lego sets
Family photos
Catholic Mass
Barbecue rib dinner
Extra whipped cream on your dessert
A cigar and sip of Drambuie

Finding words may be difficult, but incorporating these little things into our day help us remember him and smile. Each item represents something we know he enjoyed or something he would often get for us. He was always generous. Always thinking about his family. Loved to spoil his grandkids.

We miss him…grateful that the life he lived continues to influence ours.