Tag Archives: sons

My Mother-Heart Breaks

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My mother-heart breaks today.
Stop!
Stop sending our world’s children
into wars they don’t want.
Their lives are worth more than that.
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

Joan Baez singing “Where Have All the Flowers Gone?”

“Fear not: for I am with thee: I will bring thy seed from the east, and gather thee from the west; I will say to the north, Give up; and to the south, Keep not back: bring my sons from far, and my daughters from the ends of the earth… the work of righteousness shall be peace; and the effect of righteousness quietness and assurance for ever. And my people shall dwell in a peaceable habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet resting places…”
-Isaiah 43

“The cement of a higher humanity will unite all interests in the one divinity.”
-Mary Baker Eddy

“Universal Love is the divine way in Christian Science.”
-Mary Baker Eddy

Pandemic Weddings and Two New Daughters

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Who could have guessed a year
ago that today I would have near
two new daughters, loved and dear
to me.

Life is like that, isn’t it?

In the midst of chaos there
is still joy to find and share
and in the midst of pandemic terror
the sons still found life-partners who dare
to approach life as they do – kind and ready,
brave and steady.

There were no caterers or wedding planners,
no venues, no bands, no banners,
no paid photographers, florists, or DJs,
and no invitations to each pair’s special day.

Their weddings were simple and true –
one in Hawaii and one under a blue
sky on top of the courthouse in Seattle.
We couldn’t make it to one, but we all
made it to the other.
Father, sons, new daughters, and mother.

Who could have guessed a year ago that by September’s
end I would have two new daughters?
-Karen Molenaar Terrell

“Happiness is spiritual, born of Truth and Love. It is unselfish; therefore it cannot exist alone, but requires all mankind to share it.”
-Mary Baker Eddy









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Driving Back from Our Hike

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Driving back from our hike –
son is sitting in the seat next to me
his head nods forward
and he is asleep.
And I have a flashback
from 22 years ago –
same son, but a toddler then,
strapped in his car seat
behind me. I glance in the rear
view mirror and see his baby
head nod forward in slumber.
Same peaceful expression.
Same comforting white sound
from the moving car.
Same feeling of love filling
our moving bubble.
And I feel Moz join us –
I feel her love with me,
with her grandson.
There is no separation in time
or space or death.
– Karen Molenaar Terrell

Youngest Son

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So the youngest son got to decide what CD to put into the player as we’re driving through Seattle. He picked one out of my collection and plopped it into the player with a big grin on his face. Mamma Mia. Yup. So there we are sitting at a busy stoplight in Seattle – cars jammed all around us. “Slipping Through My Fingers” comes on. He cranks up the volume to, like, the loudest loud (an “11” on the Spinal Tap scale), rolls down the window, and rests his tattooed arm on the top of the window frame. Then he starts beating his hand to the beat of ABBA and nodding his head up and down to the song – like he’s really into it – and I am just dying with embarrassment and laughter – cringing and laughing so hard I have tears pouring down my face. The kid cracks me up. I cannot imagine being part of a family with no sense of humor.