Memories of and Tributes to Terry
























In Remembrance of Terry

Three days after your death

A rosebush---

in all appearance lifeless

from the weighty snow and killing salt

of the harsh winter past

(but not yet uprooted)—

Sent up a red, late-summer shoot of new life.



Nancy W. Ahmadifar






I keep picturing Terry opening worship, arms raised and welcoming, and saying “Peace be upon this house and all who enter herein, and upon the whole family of humankind.”  May you be held in the font of holy love, kindness, fierceness, and wisdom that flowed through you to us, Terry, now and forever more.

Rev. Parisa Parsa






When Terry was in Deer Isle, Maine he often attended the church of St. Brendan the Navigator.  This is the prayer of St. Brendan read at the close of terry’s memorial service.


Help me to journey beyond the familiar and into the unknown.

Give me the faith to leave old ways and break fresh ground with You.

Christ of the mysteries, I trust You to be stronger than each storm within me.

I will trust in the darkness and know that my times, even now, are in Your hand.

Tune my spirit to the music of heaven, and somehow, make my obedience count for You.






This excerpt from Maya Angelou’s poem When Great Trees Fall was read at the story circle (November 1, 2015) honoring Terry’s ministry.


When great souls die,
the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines,
gnaws on kind words unsaid, promised walks never taken.

Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us.
Our souls, dependent upon their nurture, now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance, fall away.
We are not so much maddened as reduced

to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves.

And when great souls die, after a period peace blooms,

slowly and always irregularly.

Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be.

Be and be better.

For they existed.








Poem contributed by Thalia McMillion



Those we love don't go away.


They walk beside us every day.


Unseen, unheard, but always near,


So loved, so missed, so very dear.


Author Unknown








A Remembrance from Margaret Suby-Dorney


I have many wonderful memories of Terry, but the one that pops up first comes from the time when gays and lesbians were granted the right to marry in Massachusetts.  Ever the one for inclusion, Terry stood at the front of the sanctuary and said, "Well, all you heterosexuals who want to get in on the fun, you can have a recommitment ceremony."  And so David and I celebrated 10 years of marriage with another commitment and a great party.  We plan  to do it again next May to celebrate 20 years.  Thanks, Terry!









To Terry's Family,


I first met Terry when my sons were 7 and 9 years od.  I saw a pamphlet on the bulletin blard in the church that had his name and phone number listed on it.  I thought to myself, "maybe he can help me find a way to get my bous some Christmas presents.".  I called Terry and asked him for help, which he gave wholeheartedly and from that day on Terry was part of our lives helping out whenever and wherever he could.


I recently lost my mother after a long battle and Terry was there supporting and praying with me for the whole time, even while he battled his own ilness.  The last words that my mother said to me were, "I'm gonna miss you, take care of your brother and the boys.:  Then she asked, "How's Terry?".


Terry was a true friend and a great Reverend.  He was responsible for returning me and my sons back into God's grace.  I will always be extremely grateful to him for that.  For twenty years Terry was always there for me and my family and I just want you to know that I am tryly blessed to have met him and extremely proud to call him my friend.


Love, Brenda, Jason, Carl and Family