memories

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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Daryl Thorp, 1948-2024

/ J. Thorp / 4 Comments

REMUS, MICHIGAN—Husband, father, machinist, and mule driver, Daryl Thorp passed away on January 28, 2024, in the log house north of Remus with his wife and children around him.

Daryl lived on his own terms. He was born in the Thumb of Michigan in 1948, the youngest of the four living children of Duane and Mary (Hawley) Thorp. He lost his mom in 1953 and spent much of his formative years with his Little Grandma. Though he was never religious, he was a deeply moral man who, even late in life, said that in everything he did, he was trying not to let Little Grandma down.

Life wasn’t easy, and by the time he was a teenager, he was already making his own way as best he could. He was bright and mechanically gifted from an early age, but he had little love for school and would rather be working with his hands or hunting and fishing. He joined the Army after high school and was blessed to be stationed in Alaska. He said the biggest thing he learned from the Army was that he didn’t want to stay in the Army, so he had better figure things out. He told a buddy he was going home to marry the neighbor girl, and he did—though at that point they had never even been on a date.

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Strong and Wrong or Weak and Wise?

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This post appeared as a column in the Sunday, November 19, edition of the St. Michael Catholic Church bulletin.

Last Wednesday’s gospel challenged me. Jesus starts and ends with strong, provocative language—”If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26) and “In the same way, every one of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:33).

In between, he offers two examples for our reflection. In the first, He asks who would undertake to build a tower without first calculating whether or not he could finish it; in the second, he calls to mind a king assessing the strength of an advancing army to determine whether he could successfully oppose them.

In both examples, the concern is clear: Will I be able to persevere and succeed with the resources I have at hand? But the actions and outcomes are subtly different. In the first, the builder does not take the time to calculate, and his inability to complete his tower leads to failure and ridicule. In the second, however, the king does take the time, and upon realizing he cannot win, seeks peace before the battle ever begins.

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Friday Flashback: Secret Stash

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A few days ago I was exiting the church offices and saw Father McGinnis in the vestibule. He was preparing to leave, as well, but he was standing near a small table, the top of which was open like the lid to a chest. I had never noticed that it opened before, and for a split second, it appeared as though he was gathering belongings he has stashed near the door for his convenience.

In reality, he had also noticed for the first time that the table opened and simply wanted to see what, if anything, was inside. But the initial impression called me back, back…

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Movie Break: A Good Old-Fashioned Scare

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Halloween night was always a favorite as a kid—and as a dad, when our kids were old enough to enjoy it. Dressing up is always fun, and, like reading fairy tales, I think traipsing about the neighborhood after dark trying to scare friends and family (not to mention the delight in a being scared and then laughing about it afterward) helps children learn to manage their fears.

Plus, CANDY! (Of course.)

Now all but Lily have left the nest, and she is more inclined to roam the neighborhood with her middle-schooler friends than with her parents. I stayed home this year to hand out candy. I created a giant spider from three pumpkins, two gourds, eight long and crooked birch branches, and a length of rope; this Arachno-Lantern and Lily’s Schnoz-o-Lantern greeted the children and teens who haunted our doorstep, and I got to enjoy the comments and the costumes, plus two good, old-fashioned scary movies on the over-the-air MOVIES! television channel.

I’m not a big horror movie guy, especially these days. Scenes of torture and gore are not my speed; I prefer a little drama (we loved A Quiet Place), a lot of humor (Shaun of the Dead was a guilty pleasure), or a classic, somewhat campy, monster movie. The latter is what I got on All Hallows Eve.

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