memories

Grace By Association

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

It’s a blue Sunday.

Yesterday our youngest son, Trevor, graduated from Saint John Vianney College Seminary and the University of St. Thomas—summa cum laude, with degrees in philosophy and Catholic studies. We drove into the Twin Cities for the ceremony (a commute I made daily for work for more than a decade and we used to make regularly as a family for martial arts classes, concerts, and more). We went to Cecil’s Deli, one of Trevor’s favorite places, for a late lunch and then packed up his dorm. He said goodbye to his brother seminarians—a group of great young men from several dioceses with whom he has lived, laughed, learned, and prayed for the past four years. (Can it have been four years?). Then, we headed home.

Last night we were up late while Trevor sorted his belongings into three groupings: stuff he needs this summer, stuff to get rid of, and stuff to bring with us to North Dakota when we move. We had breakfast after Mass this morning; he wrote some thank-yous and checked the oil on our reliable blue Elantra—and at about 12:15 PM, he left the only home he’s ever known, likely for the last time.

It’s been a whirlwind week or so. Our older daughter Emma was married a week ago yesterday and moved to Sioux City with her husband Isaac, leaving the only house she remembers. (She was a baby when we arrived here.) Our older sons, Brendan and Brother Jude, along with Brendan’s family, were here for the wedding. Last time the family will gather here, our home for 23 years…

Thank you, Lord, for Lily. We’re not ready to be alone in this!

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Final Column: Farewell to Our Spiritual Home

/ J. Thorp / Leave a comment

In 2003, when Jodi and I decided to move to Minnesota, I was media relations manager for Ferris State University in Michigan. We were in our twenties, both working, with three preschoolers in daycare and living five miles or so from my folks.

As I prepared to leave that role, a colleague a few years older than me gave me a set of nice pens inscribed with my name and three C words that he felt described me. I don’t recall the first two, but the last one was “Courage”—that one I remember because I thought it strange at the time. We were young and in love; I had just landed a great-paying job with a marketing firm in Minneapolis, and we had family in the Twin Cities area. What was so brave about it?

Now, preparing to move to Bismarck in our fifties, I know better. It is hard to leave the familiar, the comfortable, the secure—the blessings of a community that has been our haven for nearly half our lives, and the only home most of our five children can recall.

We are trying to be brave. It is not easy.

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‘Life Is Different with a Daughter’

/ J. Thorp / 2 Comments

Last Saturday, our daughter Emma married Isaac, a Catholic high school tehology teacher and former seminarian from South Dakota, whom she met at the University of Mary. He’s a good man, she’s a wonderful young woman—but as any father of a little girl can tell you, life is different with a daughter.

It was an emotional day. I managed to hold myself together until just before my father-of-the-groom speech, below. The video begins with Jodi and I and Steve and Carol, Isaac’s folks, blessing the couple…

Wednesday Witness: Fasting Well, Feasting Well

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On Easter Sunday, we were blessed to talk with Brother Jude. Brother Jude is our second son, Gabe, who is now a novice with the Community of Franciscan Friars of the Renewal (CFRs) in Newark, New Jersey.

From the outside, the novitiate year seems very focused on spiritual growth, detachment, and obedience. Aside from occasional letters, Brother Jude’s contact with his immediate family is strictly limited and with everyone else, non-existent. He spends a great deal of time in prayer and formation, and he does very little without first getting permission from his superiors. This was our first conversation since Christmas and our last until Jodi’s birthday in July.

As you can imagine, it was good to hear his voice. He seems very recollected and peaceful, and I told him so.

“I am, most of the time,” he said. “At least, I try to be.”

We catch each other up on the news and our Easter celebration, then I ask him about his Lent. Our impression last year, when he was a postulant, was that the friars observe a fairly stringent fast during Lent and Advent, which he was not subject to at that time.

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Book Break: Hillbilly Elegy by JD Vance

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Last summer, when we were visiting Jodi’s parents, her mom gave me a copy of JD Vance’s memoir Hillybilly Elegy. I think she had picked it up for herself, but we were talking about the upcoming election, and she thought I had a better chance of reading it sometime in the near future. She said I could tell her about it when I did.

Well, Momma Venjohn, here you go.

In case you avoid the news: JD Vance is a young, former US senator for the state of Ohio, now vice president of the United States of America. He is a Marine Corps veteran, a graduate of Ohio State University and Yale Law School, and the author of the afore-mentioned memoir, a book-length reflection on a traumatic childhood, poverty and addiction in Appalachia and the Rust Belt, and the dysfunctional family connections that somehow got him through where so many others flounder.

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