Family | 100 Words

100 Years

September 12th, 2026
Mollie T. Cox

My father, who was born September 12, 1926

My father was only five years older than I am today when he passed. We never know people fully, especially our parents, but the years since then have taught me much.

While my mother regaled us with her college exploits, my father said little beyond his college dances and his photography for the college yearbook. Five years ago, I read that yearbook. My father was also an editor and involved in multiple clubs. He roomed with my Uncle Floyd, who told me about their racing cars around town.

I recently learned that my father taught my cousin the box step. Why not me I wondered, and then, realized she is fourteen years younger than me. My father was retired at that time.

Until I was in my thirties, I never knew or even suspected that my father and his brothers were physically and emotionally abused. Two uncles revealed their experiences. I’ve read that breaking a cycle of abuse is hard, but my father did. He was upbeat, kind, and attentive. I consider that his greatest legacy, which overshadows the parental shortcomings that grieved when I was younger.

Family, Parenting, Relationships

A False Narrative

July 25th, 2026
Mollie T. Cox

The movie I Tonya dramatized the 1994 assault on Olympic figure skater Nancy Kerrigan and its aftereffects. The screenwriter said the film was about

Things we tell ourselves in order to … live with ourselves … how we change the narrative and then want that to be the narrative.
Steven Rogers

This is devastating to those having a false narrative imposed upon them. Some friends and I are in that group.

Yet, I have done the same. I told friends that my parents rarely read to me as a preschooler, and few picture books were in our home. I spoke the truth, I thought, until I poured over letters my grandmother had saved. (See here.)

Mollie calls her new Mother Goose book Mommy Goose.

Mollie knows the Three Billy Goats Gruff by heart.

letters to my grandmother

My false narrative is minor but still unfair to my parents.

How do we fight back? Prayer is the best offense once the false narrative is held tightly. We can prepare by telling the stories and showing the photos that contradict the seeds being planted by the enemy of our souls who wants to divide people, especially families.

Family

Family Language Pt.2

February 7th, 2026
Mollie T. Cox

Our family language doesn’t always originate in “the wild minds of children.” (See here.) One day, I fretted over an incident. What was that far-away person, thinking?

Nothing can be known until Mr. Knightly returns.
My husband

I laughed. The tension was broken. Mr. Knightly is a character in Jane Austen’s novel Emma or, in my husband’s case, the movie. While Mr. Knightly is away, Emma frets over Mr. Knightly’s love interest. Emma’s former governess finally says, “Nothing can be known until Mr. Knightly returns.” My husband’s shortcut to making a point.

Movie quotes may not seem like familect, but it is. A friend’s family quotes Home Alone. I’ve seen that movie twice but don’t recognize any lines. Once, an in-law said, “She’ll be there by 10:30 tomorrow morning.” Seeing my blank stare, he added, “It’s from Runaway Bride,” and explained his joke, which of course, ruined it.

And there are the remembered conversations. After an elderly lady recounted a tale from her youth, the elderly man beside her laughed and said, “You tough lady,” which eventually became, “You funny lady.” My husband and I often repeat those words. (Yes, I say “You funny lady” to my husband.)

Family

Family Language

October 11th, 2025
Mollie T. Cox

Familect: the memory and meaning in our weird, family-specific, words often born of the wild minds of children.
Caitlin Gibson, The Washinton Post. September 3, 2025

Along the way, actually last month, I learned the word familect.

While not knowing the definition of familect, I experienced its beginnings over thirty-five years ago. My middle son asked for up-lups at bedtime. When my husband and I had no idea what he wanted and told him so, our son became more insistent. Finally, my husband said, “Show us the up-lups.”

I vividly remember the little finger pointing as my husband carried him down our long hall until the finger pointed to our 1950s pink-tiled bathroom and finally the bathroom cabinet. My husband opened the cabinet, and my son pointed to a bag of cough drops. My husband pulled them out, and our one-year-old helped himself.

We’ve moved beyond smashed potatoes and pupcakes aka cupcakes, but up-lups have remained. And, as Gibson says in her article, familect is a sweet reminder of the simpler days. For our family, it’s when our now-grown son wore red short overalls and was beginning to walk.

May your familect bond and bless your family.