Finding Kinship in the Fred Meyer Parking Lot

So this just happened.

I came out of Fred’s with my groceries to see a young woman with a blond pony tail seated on the sidewalk, leaning against the store. She had a sign indicating she was in need. A tall young man was leaning in, talking to her in a kind voice. I saw him hand her cash, as he talked to her. He held a bouquet of bright flowers – orange and yellow – and he plucked two flowers from the bouquet and handed them to her. She reached up and hugged him.

I’d walked up to them by this point, and asked the woman if she’d like an apple and she said yes. “For the princess,” I said, handing her the apple.

She had tears as her eyes swept from me to the young man. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.”

The young man and I walked next to each other as we left her. I asked him if I could shake his hand, and he smiled and agreed to this. We stopped walking and he told me he’d had a rough life, but he didn’t blame anyone for that. The teacher/mom in me came up then and I gave him a hug.

We exchanged names. I learned he is Ron, and “My name is of course, Karen,” I told him. He started laughing. I asked him if the flowers were for his wife, and he said he’d already given her flowers, but these were for his mom. Then I learned he was planning to walk with the groceries and flowers to his mom’s place – and she lived down on West Fairhaven Street. I asked him if I could give him a ride. His face lit up and he thanked me.

When we got to my car, another young man who was parked near my car, greeted Ron – at first I thought they must be old friends, but then I realized they’d never met before – they just reocognized a kinship with each other. As Steven and Ron chatted, Ron learned that Steven had just bought a house that needed some work, and Steven learned that Ron was a carpenter! Steven grinned and spread his arms out wide, like “See? We were meant to meet!” Steven smiled at me and said, “I’m a superstitious person. I believe in these things.” Then he turned around and showed me the back of his jacket, and opened his jacket up to show me his beads and crucifix.

Ron showed Steven his beaded bracelet then, and the two of them let me snap pictures of their beads.

After Ron and Steven had exchanged phone numbers, I cleared out room for Ron in my car and we started our drive to his mom’s place. On the way Ron told me he was looking forward to going to his job that night. I asked him where he worked, and he told me he worked in Bow. I told him I lived in Bow, and his eyes got big in surprise. He said he worked at the Edison Inn in Bow, and told me how much he enjoyed working there. He said it was like a family there. Everyone cared about each other, and treated each other right.

When I dropped him off at his mom’s apartment, Ron said he hoped he’d see me at the Edison sometime. And I told him he probably would. We hugged and wished each other a good day. I told him to hug his mom for me, too. “A hug from the crazy Karen,” I said, and he started laughing.

“You aren’t a crazy Karen,” he said. “You’re a good Karen.”

Love’s Murmuration

I felt impelled to get out of the house and go for a drive. I ended up at the Bellingham mall with the vague idea that I might go Christmas shopping.

As I headed into Macy’s a young woman approached me – she looked scared. She said her baby was locked in the car with her keys and she asked me if I could let security know. I went into Macy’s and let the customer service people know the situation. They needed to know the model of the car and where it was parked, so I went back out and asked the young mother if I could watch her car and baby while she went inside to talk to the customer service people. She thanked me and I took up my post by her car.

When I looked in the window I saw her baby was crying – so I said, “Hi Sweetie! I’m right here with you!” and she started giggling then and smiling at me. There was a little toy suction cupped to the window and the baby reached up and started playing with the toy – like she was playing with me – and we spent the next minute or so laughing at her toy together.

The baby’s mom came out then, and pretty soon folks in uniforms joined her at her car to help her.

And the thought occurred to me that maybe that was the whole reason I’d felt like I’d needed to drive and ended up at the mall – I hardly ever go there, and it was weird for me to decide to go there today.

I bought a red vest and a new pair of jeans and then started my drive home.

And the clouds and the rain and the gray evening light enveloped me in a peaceful bubble. I’d put in a CD of hymns sung by a pair of young brothers with a youthful energy, and as I listened to the hymns I thought of my mom and remembered all the times she’d sung those hymns to me. I could feel her love with me. As I drove through the Chuckanut Hills, I thought of the hikes I’d taken with Dad and felt his love, too. And then I remembered driving this same route when I was bringing the sons home from swimming lessons when they were preschoolers and I could almost hear them laughing with each other in the back seat. It seemed a lifetime ago, and just like yesterday.

“He leadeth me, O blessed thought! O words with heav’nly comfort fraught…” And suddenly I felt myself connected to all the other people in the cars moving with me on I-5. And for a moment our kinship with each other was so clear to me. I felt us all moving together in a cosmic murmuration. Normally I try to exit onto the backroads, but I found myself passing the exit I might normally haven taken and I realized I WANTED to be with the other folks on I-5.

My drive home was other-worldly and beautiful.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

“And Now You’re Saving Lives!”

There’s a large part of this story that’s not mine to share and I’ll leave to my friend to share if she wants. But I think I can share this part:

Looking back on Facebook at the history of our friendship, it looks like we met on November 8, 2018, and became immediate friends. I was taking my walk on the Bellingham boardwalk when I first met her. It was a cold day. She wore a hat, I remember. I recognized a kinship – I saw in her expression a shared experience. I opened my heart to hear her story and she poured her heart out to me. Heart-to-heart. I felt so privileged by that – by her trust in me.

I understood some of what she was going through – I’d gone through a similar experience about ten years before. I’m not sure what I said to her. I might have told her that I understood – that I’d been there, too – that I knew she was in a scary place – but that she was also in a really amazing place – that she was completely free to create a whole new life for herself and that I knew that was scary, but that I thought she’d find it was also really exhilarating. An adventure!

I went home and found her on FB and discovered we had a bunch of friends in common. That was cool. And I asked her to be my FB friend.

Through the last four years we’ve sometimes run into each other by magic – not purposefully, but always perfectly. We’ve come upon each other at rallies and in the supermarket and walking along a street. When it was my turn to get a COVID vaccine, I was a little freaked out, and I contacted my friend because I knew she was working at the vaccination site and I knew I could count on her to help walk me through what I had to do. She was a blessing to me during that time.

And today I ran into her at the supermarket. She shared with me that last weekend, through her new role at work, she was in a position to help someone who told her that she “most likely” had saved his life.

As she was sharing her story I started crying. And then she started crying. And we hugged and cried and laughed together. She asked me if I remembered where she was when we’d first met, and I nodded and said, “And now you’re saving lives!”

In the last few days, I’ve felt the Cosmos reaching out to me with hope and reassurance and love. I’m being constantly reminded of all the Good in the world. I’m so grateful for that.

Kinship in a Grin and a Nod

A runner jogged up the boardwalk
from the other direction and got caught
behind three laughing young women
and a dog stretched to the end of his leash
across the width of the boardwalk, oblivious 
to the runner behind them, and oblivious
to me in front of them. The runner stopped
and waited and caught my eye and smiled
and I smiled back as I halted for the trio
and their dog to move past me. Then when
we were both finally able to move again,
the runner and I acknowledged our kinship
with a grin and a nod, and continued on
our respective journeys along the boardwalk
in the sunshine on a sunny autumn day.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Recognizing Our Kinship

Walking through the waking waiting area
at Pittsburgh’s airport – a kaleidoscope
of faces zooming in, zooming out – a mix
of colors – cedar, cinnamon, and taupe,
peach, pink, carob, caramel, and coffee –
his face stands out – he looks like Ram Dass
in The Little Princess – and he’s looking at me
We smile towards each other as we pass –
recognizing our kinship in the mass
of humming, hustling, hurrying humanity
– Karen Molenaar Terrell