Brothers

Strange how two
Paths begin in
The same place
Moving parallel
Until each one
Branches off
On its own
Criss-crossing
Often or seldom
Depending on
Influences from
Outside and within-
Like siblings, in a way
Inseparable as they
Share the precious
Space of childhood
One following
The other until
Big enough to
Walk side by side
Until time turns
Into distance and
The years add up
More quickly than
Either could have imagined-
No matter how far
Apart they drift
The beginning remains-
Allowing wisdom and
Sickness to reunite as
They travel unfamiliar
Yet once again
Parallel paths
Able to speak
Freely childhood truths
Long forgotten-
I love you, brother
I love you, too

Looking

What am I looking for?
Am I looking for anything?
Looking implies intent
As if something is missing-
Where are my keys?
Or a void needs filling-
Where is my friend?
If looking is not
An active part of my day
Does that mean I am
Simply roaming
Counting the minutes
Until the day is done?
Some days…
But on those other days,
I sometimes find something-
Something I didn’t even know I needed

Time for Music

Precious, fleeting, brief
There is never enough-
We want it to slow down,
Then speed right back up.
I’m speaking about time, of course-
Such a fascinating concept
We break it down into
Hours, minutes, seconds
Weeks, months, years
To what end?
Today, I played
A piece of music
On the piano
Baroque music written
Four-hundred years ago
Can that be correct?
History says it’s so
As amazing as the
Four-hundred years
May sound, the wonder
Occurred in one brief moment-
The eyes of a child
Listening and watching
Questioning how those
Notes on the page
Made their way
To my hands

I love playing the piano for my students. The only downside is not being able to teach all of them to play. Someone always asks, and I smile, wishing that was possible. In my dream teaching world, I would have a room full of keyboards. And each student would have the opportunity to experience that note-to-eyes-to-hands connection.

This week while playing, I heard one of them whisper, “That must be a recording.” Then they snuck over and peeked around the side of the piano. Another class was lining up to leave. One little boy said, “One of my favorite things today was hearing you play the piano.”

And one of my favorite things was being able to play the piano for you… ❤

Measuring Life

We try and try to
Measure our lives
Days, weeks, months, years
The number of seasons
We travel can never
Accurately measure
Our existence
What matters most
Is often invisible
Harder to quantify-
The full impact realized,
After physical days
Have long passed
If only our hearts
Could be weighed
An appraisal revealing
The constant flow
Of life-giving air
Transformed into
Actions of love-
Actions of love
Breathing
Life-giving air-
Leaving the heart full
But never heavy
Always overflowing
Impossible to measure

I suppose there is something about being in quarantine that makes me think more about time. Particularly being quarantined as a new year begins. But it is ok. As my Mom recently said, “Looking forward to better days!” 🙂 ❤

Time in a Bottle ~ Kelley Morris, piano

All or Nothing

Giving all of anything is
Quite a commitment
Particularly when
There is no way
Of knowing what
Time will be required

All of me
All of my love
All of my time
All of my days

Whether part of a 
Cross-my-heart promise
Or the title of 
A favorite song
Life does not tell us
How many days remain

A definitive number
Is found only in
The days passed
Never to return

So, I settle on today
This hour, this moment
Right this second
That is all there is
And I must choose
To give all or nothing
 

Boys to Men

Last night, I listened as my oldest son gave the best-man toast at his best friend’s wedding. He spoke with confidence and humor as he described their friendship and his genuine happiness for his friend.

It was one of those moments of clarity. The ones which solidify the reality of time and remind me how quickly it passes.

Robert and Jeremy have been friends since junior high. Before they were old enough to drive, we would take turns shuttling them back and forth to each other’s houses on the weekends. They spent many hours playing video games and watching movies. Student group activities and church camps also provided hangout time.

Their friendship continued through high school. After graduation, our family took them on a senior trip to Colorado. Together, they hiked to the top of Mt. Elbert, the highest point in the continental U.S. Quite an accomplishment for these two boys who used to use yogurt containers and empty monster cans for bb gun target practice in the backyard.

College meant living several hours away from each other. Keeping in touch and visiting whenever possible remained a priority. They even continued a tradition involving Christmas presents. One year involved a shovel and map coordinates, another required thawing a block of ice. Crazy boys!

I’m pretty sure these two have been mistaken for brothers a time or two. We felt like Jeremy was another one of our kids. And I’m certain his family often felt the same about Robert. That’s what happens with close friendships.

In five short months, their roles will be reversed. Jeremy will be making a best-man toast at Robert’s wedding. Both young men will be standing next to their lovely, precious wives. And believe me, Caitlin and Erin are special young ladies. They have to be to put up with these two. 😉

Once again, it will be a moment of clarity.

Another moment which solidifies the fact that these two boys have become men in what seems like an instant.

Another moment which will serve to strengthen their friendship.

Another moment which leaves behind a beautiful memory. ❤

What’s Cooking?

Say, hey, good lookin’
Whatcha got cookin’?
How’s about cookin’ somethin’ up with me?

Hey, sweet baby
Don’t you think maybe
We could find us a brand-new recipe?

-Hank Williams-

Yes, I know this song has little if anything to do with food. While recently thinking about food/cooking, however, my thoughts turned to people. And then to this song. Maybe not logical, but that’s my musician brain for you.

What is it about this act of cooking which draws us closer to each other? As I considered this question, my memories were clear. My friend Donna McDonald and her peanut butter pie. My friend Cindy Wright and her frozen strawberry dessert. The Seifert family and their homemade pizza.

The list could go on and on. Specific people, specific foods, and specific occasions. All of these foods were delicious, but what I remember most is the people and the reasons behind their cooking-family dinners, baby showers, hospital stays. Being on the receiving end of these gifts always made me feel loved.

I’ve also been on the opposite end of this circumstance. Cooking a family birthday dinner or baking cookies for a friend. Knowing that others are enjoying my creation always makes me happy.

This week I experienced both sides of this culinary phenomenon. Monday, I baked my famous chocolate chip cookies. Student musicians in our all-school musical were the recipients at our Tuesday rehearsal. They were surprised and grateful. And they ate all the cookies. 😉

I chose Tuesday for this treat because it was our first “late” day. This almost four-hour rehearsal followed a full day of teaching elementary music. Even with some extra caffeine and a cookie, the long day left me exhausted.

Dragging myself into the house, I immediately smelled something yummy. “Are you hungry?” My husband had made a tasty meal. He fixed me a plate. I sat down to eat and unwind.

No, this wasn’t a birthday dinner or special event. It was just a regular old Tuesday night. A late work night for me. A night he knew I needed a good meal. A meal that made me feel loved.

All of these situations are connected by one element, and it isn’t food. It is time. Time is precious and cooking takes time. When someone is willing to give their own time in this way, they’re showing how much they care.

If you find yourself on the receiving end there is only one thing to say. “What’s cooking?” Followed by a big, huge, “Thank you!”

Time

Hanging on to its coattails as it flies by… faster with each passing day.

 

Time passes quickly

Years like months

Months like days

Days like minutes

Not logical

Yet true

 

Holding on tight

Wishing years would slow

Months would stretch

Days would linger

With no result

Passing more quickly

 

I must respond

Dream changes each year

Plan work each month

Find good each day

Hope for the future

Embrace this moment

 

“Secret ‘O Life” James Taylor

Time Machine

During recent Red Ribbon Week activities, our school had a “dress in your favorite decade” day.  I chose the 80’s-big hair, hot pink tank layered over black dress, leggings & leg warmers.  “Girls just wanna have fun” was uttered by colleagues several times throughout the day.  Staying in line with my decade choice, I decided we would spend some time in the 80’s during music class.

One class entered my room particularly quiet, much more so than usual.  Thinking they might be a tough audience, I decided to shake things up a bit.  “You guys don’t know this, but the music room is actually a time machine.  And today, we are taking a trip back to the 1980’s!” Of course, there were a few eye rolls but mostly giggles.  We had so much fun!

Our playlist for the day:

  • Richard Simmons exercise video-I Just Wanna Dance with Somebody
  • Jump by Van Halen
  • Take on Me by A-Ha
  • Always Something There to Remind Me by Naked Eyes
  • We Will Rock You by Queen (actually 1977 but it worked with the boomwhackers)

This activity started me thinking.  Music really is like a time machine.  In one instance we listen to a composition from hundreds of years ago, imagining what life was like when it was written.  The next minute we hear a song on the radio and are immediately transported back to a special event, a certain person, or a memorable place from our own past. Both examples are powerful.

It certainly was the case for me all throughout this 80’s music day.  I smiled as I thought about the fun times spent with my best friend Kim watching music videos on MTV.  Remembered my short-lived dream of becoming a rock star when performing in my high school talent show.  Laughed about the many times my husband has played the keyboard opening to “Jump.” (He is a tuba player, not a pianist-so this was his piano claim to fame!)

As my once quiet class was winding down and my trip down memory lane ending one young friend piped up, “Mrs. Morris, can we please transport back to the 2000’s now?” I laughed, “Why yes, yes we can.”  Our time machine travel was over.  At least until the radio began to play in my car, after school, on my way home…