Heartstrings

Blogger’s Note: This is the latest in a collection of daily posts outlining my journey to the Sacred Heart over the past year or more. See an overview and links to past posts here.

It’s been a long week, headed into a working weekend and another long week, and I’m short on sleep. Rather than write a long, rambling, and unfocused Sacred Heart post, I think I’ll share this little piece instead.

As a kid I remember my sister and I spending a week in the summer at the farm where my mom grew up. I remember exploring the barn and watching the painted turtles in the water tank dive to the bottom when the cows came to drink. I remember Dziadzi’s dog King, and the screech of Guinea fowl, and Busia’s big, bountiful garden. I remember the big tire swing in the willow behind the house, and the mystery of Sunday Mass just up the road at St. Michael Catholic Church in Wilmot. (Yet another St. Michael parish in my life, along with this one and our current one.) Continue reading

Love Thy Neighborhood

Hello, hello/I don’t know why you say goodbye, I say hello.

— the Beatles, “Hello, Goodbye”

Yesterday Jodi spoke with our neighbors across the street, a friendly couple a bit younger than us, with two small children and a dog, and personalities that draw you in and make you want to smile and visit.

They are moving to Alexandria.

As they talked, the husband and father said something telling: “I’ve talked more to my neighbors since we sold our house than in the previous X years.”

This was not a reflection solely on the rest of us: several homes are for sale or have sold in recent years, and he admitted that he, too, spoke more to the outgoing neighbors than those who appeared to be staying. Continue reading

The Right Pomp for the Circumstance

We were at Mass one morning many years ago, at St. Michael Catholic Church in Remus, Michigan, when the local Knights of Columbus Fourth-Degree Honor Guard marched into the nave. I remember our son Brendan—only three or so years old at the time—watching with wide eyes as men in capes and feathered hats processed toward the altar, two by two, ahead of Father. They spaced themselves evenly on either side of the aisle, pivoted in unison to face the center, and drew and raised gleaming swords in salute to the cross and priest of Christ that passed between them.

After Mass, having watched the KCs process out again, Bren asked his burning question: “Why were there pirates in church?” Continue reading

‘Broke To Death’

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” — Matthew 11:29-30

A few Sundays back, we had a guest priest, Fr. Tony Dummer from the Christ the King Retreat Center in Buffalo. The gospel reading was from Matthew chapter 11, and Fr. Tony recalled growing up on a farm in Oregon and using a team of horses for certain jobs. He said that one of the remarkable things about draft animals working together as a team is that two horses or oxen do not move twice as much, but several times the weight that one can. Continue reading

Just the Four of Us

For the first time in more than 20 years—near as we can figure—my mom, dad, sister, and I are alone together in my parents’ house.* The last time this happened, according to Jill’s recollection, was just before I left for South Dakota to marry Jodi. Jill was pregnant with my niece and goddaughter Kayla (hence the asterisk above) and couldn’t travel; she recalls sitting together in the loft overlooking the great round beams of my folks’ house, talking with me and giving me a old penny from her coin collection that had belonged to Grandpa Thorp. I don’t recall the exact moment as clearly as she, but I have the penny still, and the timing seems right.

And now here we are again, just the four of us, talking and laughing together. Births, holidays, weddings, funerals. Decades pass like minutes. We are entirely different people than the last time, and just the same.

I’m not sure I have a point tonight, other than to commemorate this day and note the speed with which time’s arrow flies, the swift fluidity of life, and the beautiful permanence of family.