I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: Slice of Life

  • Lessons from a Butterfly Concerning Casualties

    Lessons from a Butterfly Concerning Casualties


    Five years ago in August of 2018 I published this article I found when I determined to look for inspiration among more than 900 past posts over a dozen years of blogging. More specifically I looked for anything I’d written about “casualties” because it’s a common term the media glibly tosses around in reports about loss of human life in war, natural disasters, mass shootings, epidemics – which seem to multiply with each news cycle. This morning the focus was on the Israel – Hamas War that has already resulted in staggering numbers of death with estimates of more than 1,400 Israelis and more than 10,000 Gaza citizens. What I found when I listened today was how easy it is to be swept up in the totals and to forget that each casualty also represents one person: one man or one woman or one child. A butterfly reminded me on a hot summer day that the cost of individual grief is immeasurable.

    One week ago today I was doing my pool exercises when I saw something so very extraordinary I took a calculated risk to retrieve my cell phone from the buggy it rests in without disturbing the amazing sight.

    butterfly on caterpillar body – gently folding and unfolding wings

    as it moved its legs across the still corpse

    The carcasses of two recently deceased caterpillars lay next to the steps where I entered the pool every day. I scarcely paid any attention to them when I moved down the steps and into the water. After all, the bodies of caterpillars that were casualties of the chlorine were common and a dime a dozen, weren’t they.

    I also paid very little attention to the small dark colored butterfly that flew around me in wide circles for about 15 minutes until it came to rest on one of the caterpillar bodies lying on the cement next to the pool steps.

    I was so startled at the sight that I stopped my pacing to watch as the butterfly established a kind of rhythm – opening and closing its wings while it moved its legs back and forth across the dead caterpillar. I felt like I was an intruder in a private ritual of grief reserved for these tiny creatures that made our human tears a poor substitute. And then I began to think the butterfly didn’t fly away from me because it sensed my shared sorrow.

    Today, exactly one week later, I was on the last leg of my routine early morning walk around the pool when I saw this remarkable sight.

    a beautiful large blue black butterfly landed right in front of me

    This gorgeous creature flew next to the pool steps, landed, and began to open and close its wings just as the one had last week. I sat down in my buggy seat to better observe what I believe was…what?…the same butterfly from last week…another butterfly…what does that matter really…

    What I learned was a powerful lesson about the importance of all creatures great and small, the individuality of grief, the exquisite beauty in hope embraced by a spirit willing to take flight following great loss.

    ********************

    For all children everywhere. 

     

     

  • little miss, big sis

    little miss, big sis


    come on, Molly – let’s have some fun!

    Nana, I’m not so sure about this idea

    Molly, you can always trust a Mermaid

    oh, so THIS is how it’s done!

    Sadie says, why don’t you take a break, Molly?

    but the Mermaid says we can’t stop when we’re having so much fun!

    Molly, Molly – come away with me to my Kingdom in the Sea

    is she serious?

    who knew being a Princess could be so tiring?

    honestly, Nana – I think I’d be happier in a swing

    ***************

    Yesterday afternoon Nana and Naynay had the great pleasure/treasure of watching 21-month-old Little Sis Molly playing with her four year old Big Sis Ella. The imagination of Ella the Mermaid combined with Molly’s adoration of her big sister bring great joy to their Nanas. In these perilous times at home and abroad, I hope they give you a tiny break with a smile on your face.

    ****************

    For all the children everywhere.

  • a later life revelation: am I a Quaker??

    a later life revelation: am I a Quaker??


    “While there are no set beliefs in Quakerism, you will often see a common group of goals, called testimonies: simplicity, peace, integrity, community, equality, and stewardship (SPICES).” When I read this on my Google search for information on Quakers, I said to myself Wow, this is what you’ve believed all your life, these are your core values, turns out you’re a Quaker. Oh, gosh. I was a Quaker for almost a hot minute before I looked at the division within the Friends on the issues of homosexuality and abortion. Sigh. Personal deal breakers for me. So much for community and equality, but count me in for simplicity and peace.

    And while I’m thinking of peace, I must say I hesitate to write about people, places, or events that have the potential to (1) display my ignorance of the world outside my life with Pretty or (2) unintentionally do more harm than good to the universe or (3) some combination of these. However, the events in Israel over the past two weeks have evoked feelings of outrage eerily similar to the feelings of anger I experience daily with the updates on the continuing suffering of the people of Ukraine for the past twenty months. Whether for two weeks or two years, the clarion call for peace is difficult to ignore.

    President Biden addressed the nation this week to reaffirm America’s commitments in Israel and Ukraine, but our assistance is now delayed by our own House divided in the legislative body that is responsible for appropriations – stymied in a quagmire of political posturing for power by people with no moral conscience while a world desperate for responsible leadership waits and hopes.

    During the hot minute I thought I was a Quaker I read a famous quote by an even more famous Quaker named William Penn. Last night Pretty reminded me to refrain from my focus on situations beyond my control, and the Penn quote today hammered home Pretty’s philosophy of living in the moment.

    “I expect to pass through this world but once. Any good therefore that I can do, or any kindness or abilities that I can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now. Let me not defer it or neglect it, for I shall not pass this way again.”

    It seems to me the issue is not about labels, but the questions remain timely for the ages. Can we be kind, will we do good to our fellow human beings? If not today, when? If not us, who? Live in the moment for sure, leave the past failures with their guilt behind – focus on the present with its opporunities for outrageous acts of kindness, everyday rebellions for building communities where equality and inclusion are the foundations of peace.

    Onward.

  • final goodbyes in Rosenberg

    final goodbyes in Rosenberg


    my grandmother Louise (second from top left) with her Schlinke family

    outside their Rosenberg home in 1917

    matriarch Selma Buls Schlinke seated, pregnant with last baby Mary Ellen

    Louise and Mr. Boring with their first child, James Marion Boring, Jr.

    Widowed in 1938 at forty years of age with four children to support, debts to pay, the Great Depression in full swing, a third grade education, living in rural Grimes County, Texas where opportunities for employment were limited – my maternal grandmother Louise waged a private war against poverty, loneliness and depression for many of her remaining years. In 1948 my mother, father and I moved in with my grandmother to share expenses and me; we lived with her for eleven years until I was thirteen years old. I believe selfishly those were the happiest years of her life because they were some of the happiest years of mine, and when we moved 125 miles south to Brazoria, the old enemies she had fought for most of her life reappeared to haunt her home. She didn’t have a car and wouldn’t know how to drive one if she did.

    my grandmother Louise Schlinke Boring (r) with her immediate family

    mother of four, grandmother of six at Schlinke family reunion in Houston circa 1962

    As Fate would have it, or when the vicissitudes of life played tricks on us according to my daddy, no matter where you ride to, that’s where you are. My mama and daddy moved to Rosenberg, Texas as soon as I started college at the University of Texas in the summer of 1964. My grandmother Louise had been in and out of mental hospitals for years when she moved to Rosenberg to live with my parents in 1971 following my mother’s exasperation with her mother who she felt could be fine if she just had “somthing to do.” My grandmother died in a hospital in Rosenberg in April, 1972 – she had come full circle to the place where she had been born. Since I had used my savings to make the plane trip from Seattle to Houston at Christmas for the holidays the previous December, I didn’t have the money to fly home for her funeral which was on my twenty-sixth birthday. I was heartbroken for the loss and for not being there when she needed me.

    Lots of love, Mother

    This coming Friday, October 20th. is my grandmother’s birthday, and I remember her for the unconditional love she gave me for as long as she lived. She was kind, compassionate, caring and a strong woman who refused to allow the old devil to defeat her faith. I honor her every time I tell my granddaughters how much I love them.

    ***************************

    For all the grieving children everywhere.

  • 33 Years of Fun with Dick and Curtis

    33 Years of Fun with Dick and Curtis


    (left to right) Tom, Curtis, Dick and Pretty

    pitchers of Sangria helped everyone’s memory on Game Nights

    Playing variations of Trivial Pursuit on monthly Game Nights with friends was a favorite activity of Pretty’s and mine in the early years of our relationship at the turn of the 21st. century. Trivial Pursuit aficionados changed over the years we played except for our two friends Dick and Curtis who enjoyed the merriment as much as we did and never missed the opportunity to get together for fun and games. We reminisced about those times last night over dinner at their lovely “country” home off Backswamp Road in Hopkins, South Carolina. Curtis mentioned he and Dick celebrated their 33rd. Anniversary this year, and that sounded like such a long, long time rather than the hot minute it seemed to me.

    Dick and Pretty worked together in the residential real estate business for seventeen of those years which added a new dimension to their friendship, but Curtis and Pretty became the real team for Game Nights. When Curtis and Pretty were on the same team, the rest of us were doomed. Dick and I were always left in their dust, usually rolling our eyes at each other when the teams were chosen because he and I were consistently picked last. Our favorite moments on those nights were the delicious dinners served by the hosts.

    Last night wasn’t a Game Night, but we still laugh whenever we gather for the delicious dinners served by our hosts who have welcomed us into their home and lives for as long as they have been together; we celebrate them not only for the joy their friendship gives us but also for their contributions to the advancement of the LGBTQ+ community in South Carolina for more than three decades.

    Onward.