Winter

15 Jun 2017

12/4/16

Winter

Winter sky:
Gray and heavy.
Damp cold air
Trickled under
Collars and sleeves.
Numbs fingers
And cheeks and nose.
Warm breath
Steams like
Boiling water.
A shiver. A shake.
Pull my hat
Down tighter.
Hunch shoulders
And start walking.

BAMorris

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Barbaric

15 Jun 2017

6/9/17

Barbaric

I find it barbaric that twenty-seven states in this country set no minimum age for girls to marry. In nine states the limit is below sixteen. In New Hampshire the minimum age is thirteen. Thirteen! (Time Magazine, June 12, 2017) A girl of thirteen may be physically ready to get pregnant and bare a child, but she is certainly not emotionally prepared to be a wife and mother. She is still a child: a seventh grader in middle school.
These marriages are only possible with parental consent. Parents may feel that a marriage is better than their daughter having an illegitimate child. Much to my dismay, in some statutory rapes cases, instead of the court prosecuting the case, they allow a marriage to take place instead. Therefore, some marriages are then signed off on for men who are adults and girls who are not. That might be acceptable for an eighteen year old male and a seventeen year old female. But what about a twenty-seven year old man and a fourteen year old girl? Is that acceptable?
A classmate of mine in junior high school was married, with parental permission, at sixteen to a man who was twenty-two. I was stunned at her ‘wedding’ to remember that just a month before we were listening to the latest Beatles songs and swooning over Paul, and debating on which lipstick was prettier; pink or coral? I thought that night that Marsha would never go on to high school, never go to the Prom, never choose what she would do after high school. Because now she was married. And her husband would decide everything for her. I never saw her again. I wondered then if that marriage was legal and right. Now I know.

BAMorris

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Morning Comfort

13 Jun 2017

12/5/15

Morning Comfort

When I walked this morning, day was just a gauzy, gray hint of light. Suddenly I heard the crack of a gunshot. Then another. Some early morning hunter had sighted his deer. Then two more shots quickly.
From her investigations somewhere in the field or woods, Foxxi appeared at my side. For the rest of the walk she synchronized her steps exactly to mine. I guess she somehow felt that I, as her Human, could protect her from the threatening sounds that had echoed into our walk. I was glad for her company as well.

BAMorris

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Good Morning Sun!

13 Jun 2017

12/6/15

Good Morning Sun!

I slept in this morning. When I went for my walk, the field was a frosty white. The sun was a golden orb sitting in the tree line, seemingly content to peek over the horizon.
As I turned to head back home, the sun suddenly burst full into the sky as a blazing, blinding ball of light. “Good morning,“ it beamed to me.

BAMorris

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Going Backward

12 Jun 2017

11/9/15

Going Backward

I am amazed that there are still institutions and people in this country that object for birth control for women. It’s been over forty years since the Pill came on the market for common use. At that time the Catholic Church was vehemently opposed to its members using something to prevent a pregnancy. They saw it as against God’s will. But here we are in 2015. It is the norm for women to have the choice of conception or not. Now there are many more ways to prevent an unwanted pregnancy, thankfully.
But there is an upsurge of organizations fighting the Affordable Health Care Act by refusing to allow their insurance to pay for birth control for its insurees. They say making birth control available to women violates their religious beliefs. Not abortions or the Morning After pill. Birth control. I wonder where this increase in religion trying to go back to controlling a woman’s body is coming from.

BAMorris

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Mother Lessons

06 Jun 2017

1/10/17

Mother Lessons

My mother might have been called nosey. She seemed to be involved, when I was a child, in many people’s lives. We always seemed to be carrying somebody’s child to church, or taking someone else to the doctor or the store. She knew whose husband had lost his job, or which mother had no money to buy new shoes for her kids. In today’s world, she would be deemed a busy-body.
But in the 1950s, she was just being a good neighbor. I dare say everyone knew everyone’s business in our small community. So it really was no secret when a man lost his job or a mother had no money because her husband drank it up instead of bringing it home to her.
We were not wealthy. Mom had been one of those in need herself after my father left us. She had gone looking for work, any kind of work, from more well-to-do members of our community: any job to put food on our table and keep us in our home. She made it through that trying time, so afterwards she extended a helping hand to those less fortunate. Giving back, I’d call it.
She worked in the homes of the more financially secure for our livelihood. She was still “the hired woman.” But she shared her blessings, passed on our little extra, to those who didn’t have any extra, or even enough. I think in her mind she was just being a good Christian.

BAMorris

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Change of Status

06 Jun 2017

1/9/17
Change of Status

A teacher at the high school appeared in the news last night. I didn’t know him personally, but my daughter had him for a class and I knew he was very active in the school. Therefore, I was surprised to hear he had been arrested for giving alcohol to a minor.
Now I don’t know his story. It could all be very innocent, with an unexpected twist. I only know the charge, the arrest, and the fact that he is no longer employed as a teacher for the county. (And I suspect, will lose his teaching license.) I thought how sad it is that he had spent so many years doing good things for young people, and all that disappeared in the blink of an eye. It made me sad, and I’m sure it hurts his heart every time he sees his face plastered on the TV screen as a criminal.

BAMorris

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Missing Sister

06 Jun 2017

1/9/17
Missing Sister

I read the obituaries faithfully each day. I am not so much looking to see if mine is in there (as some people jokingly say), but to look for people I might have know as a child or for families of students I taught in the area.
While reading the obituary of a man with the same last name as mine, I was surprised to see my name as a survivor. I thought to myself, “I had a brother I didn’t even know about!” I read the piece again with renewed interest, chuckling to see my name still soundly there as his surviving sister.
I wondered if I had attended the funeral if the family would have been as surprised as I was to find he had an extra sister out there that no one knew about. And when I met the other Brenda Morris, would it be like looking at a doppelganger?

BAMorris

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