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A Year Apart: Reflecting on My Father’s Passing

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

One year ago today, my father passed away.

I flew to Michigan early that morning with the experienced observation of a close family friend ringing in my head: It won’t be long. The flight was flawless and landed early. When the rental car clerk learned why I was in Michigan, he expedited everything, and I was on the road in minutes. Traffic moved. The pavement was dry. I drove the limit and made myself relax, reflecting that this was unfolding in God’s time, and I would arrive when I should.

I arrived just in time. My sister came out to greet me in the driveway and said she thought Dad may have just stopped breathing. I went in and held his hand, which was warmer to my touch than it had been in years. I spoke to him softly, telling him it was okay, telling him to go to the Lord and not to be afraid, telling him we were okay and would take care of each other. 

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Book Break: Sword of Honor

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

Last month, I drove to Michigan and back on consecutive weekends. Roadtripping comes easily for me, especially with a good audiobook. During the winter, I saw an article on the Imaginative Conservative website about Evelyn Waugh’s Sword of Honor trilogy, and since I haven’t read anything by Waugh since Brideshead Revisited in 2011, it seemed like a solid choice.

In case you don’t know (I didn’t): Arthur Evelyn St. John Waugh is a British man; an author, journalist, and book reviewer; a World War II veteran; and a twice-married convert to Catholicism. Sword of Honor comprises three separate novels published in chronological order: Men at Arms (1952), Officers and Gentlemen (1955), and Unconditional Surrender (1961).

The books trace the wartime story of Guy Crouchback, the only surviving son of a once well-to-do Catholic family in England, who is floundering after his beautiful but promiscuous wife leaves him for another man (and another, and another) in the early days of World War II. Despite being older than most recruits, he joins the Army to escape his loneliness and reassert himself as a man—God willing, to do something meaningful with his life.

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The Dad-Roll and Other Defensive Maneuvers

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

I am not naturally graceful. As a boy, I cast a shadow like a keyhole—a melon head atop a stick-figure body, careening through the world in whatever direction my topmost orb led me. As a teen, I lived in a narrow trailer house with my folks and spent two miserable weeks after my dad’s foot surgery finding every possible way to pinball into his elevated leg and throbbing big toe.

Today I am much the same: I move effortlessly, like an October acorn pinging from roof to car to driveway. I still drift the way I’m leaning and collide with stationary objects, softly as a poolside preschooler wearing swim-fins.

And yet, somewhere on the outer ends of my Y-chromosome is coded an instinct for self-preservation, which (to date) has kept me physically intact and free of broken bones or stitches.

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Grandpa Vibes

/ J. Thorp / 1 Comment

Blogger’s Note: Now that I’m writing for a living again, I am trying to find my way back to writing for the heck of it (i.e., for the sheer enjoyment). Wish me luck!

A curious thing happened at the St. Michael Catholic Church Fall Festival last month. The celebration was just getting underway on the church grounds; I was setting up a St. Vincent de Paul display in the gathering space of the church (which also serves as our cry room), and Saturday evening Mass was about to culminate in the reception of Holy Eucharist.

Just then, a young father approached me with his infant daughter in his arms. I am familiar with this young man: We are close friends with his wife’s family and attended his wedding, though I’m not sure I ever spoke to him directly before this moment.

He leaned close and whispered, so as not to disturb the other parents praying nearby: “Would you mind bringing our baby down to her mom? She’s working in the food tent outside. It’s almost time for Communion, and baby needs mom-time!”

I was not expecting this, but the prospect of snuggling this baby, even for a few minutes, was irresistible. “Sure!” I said, extending my arms to receive the precious bundle, “Happy to do it!”

“I knew if I found someone like you or John*, I’d be all set,” the young man said. “Thank you.” Then he knelt and returned to prayer.

As I carefully descended the stairs, I nuzzled the fuzzy head near my chin and a wave of infant sweetness swept over me. Her eyes were open wide, but she seemed content. I stopped at the bottom, closed my eyes, smiled, and sighed, briefly contemplating if it would be a violation of trust to find a quiet corner to enjoy this blessing while she was peaceful and quiet. I shook off the desire and headed out to the festival grounds.

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The Final Surrender

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

As some of you know, my father in Michigan is suffering from both Parkinson’s and dementia. He is still at home, and my mother is still able to care for him. He’s gentle and good-humored, and I’m grateful to be able to visit as often as I can.

But it’s terrible to watch his decline and the toll it has taken on both him and my mom. He was a machinist, a mechanic, and a builder, with a great engineering mind despite no formal education. Parkinson’s took his hands first, but dementia is worse—and as much as I would like all the time I can get with him, it’s hard to see him like this.

I’ve prayed for healing, and I know God could do it in an instant if He wants—but so far that’s not His plan. So what should I pray for?

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