{"id":2977,"date":"2019-03-29T10:19:51","date_gmt":"2019-03-29T14:19:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/mission-and-identity\/?p=2977"},"modified":"2019-09-18T16:43:31","modified_gmt":"2019-09-18T20:43:31","slug":"march-29-terri-breeden-my-niece-about-early-days-on-her-grandmothers-front-porch","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/2019\/03\/29\/march-29-terri-breeden-my-niece-about-early-days-on-her-grandmothers-front-porch\/","title":{"rendered":"March 29 – Terri Breeden (my niece) about early days on her grandmother’s front porch"},"content":{"rendered":"

Friday, March 29, 2019 \u00a0\u201cI was nine that summer . . . \u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

I saw & heard my first robin yesterday, \u00a0standing on the roof of our courtyard cloister walk inspecting the early morning, then leaping up into the air and getting about the day. \u00a0A few light-work days allow me to catch up on small tasks, the beginnings of building back toward strong Nordictrack habits, and opening day for baseball. \u00a0The Tigers won in the 10th in Toronto. \u00a0Soon too I\u2019ll drive up I-94 to the Blue Water Bridge into Canada to spend an evening with Bill Clarke, sj in Guelph. \u00a0I first met Bill in the summer of 1980 when he directed my silent 30 day retreat, something Jesuits do at least two times in their lives. \u00a0St. Ignatius called the 30 days \u201ca school of the affections,\u201d \u00a0a time during which you re-learn the patterns of your feelings: \u00a0 what dis-affections distract you, what affections open you to a wider, deeper world of the heart, a school of your affections. \u00a0 The thirty days teach you how you already pray, so you can trust that in yourself, good days and hard days both. \u00a0 That summer Bill taught me how to trust the graces of my life.\u00a0 Every\u00a0few months, this four hour drive gives me time with him; it\u2019s worth every mile. \u00a0Oh yes, and as I drive over the Blue Water Bridge, I sing \u201cO Canada.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOctogenarian\u201d appeared on this list twice before, my niece Terri Breeden\u2019s recollection of learning new words while playing cards with her grandmother on the front porch, learning of gratitude and mortality.\u00a0 Best to read out loud, with pauses.<\/p>\n

Have a blest weekend.<\/p>\n

john sj<\/p>\n

p.s.\u00a0We buried my mother in 2015 at age 102.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Today\u2019s Post \u00a0\u00a0\u201cOctogenarian\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n

I was nine that summer
\nwhen you taught me\u00a0satiated<\/em>.
\nIt came after precocious
\nand pernicious, but was obviously
\nand immediately the best word yet.<\/p>\n

We refill the drinks with extra ice, cool ourselves
\nwith\u00a0condensation,<\/em>\u00a0that slick of sweat dripping down
\nour glasses. You proffer crackers; I decline,
\nsatiated and smug about it. You shuffle and deal,\u00a0while the sun
\nslowly loses its glower in the Menomonee River.<\/p>\n

I place each card carefully, fingers splayed,
\nintent.\u00a0 I hunch a bit, slanting my anticipation
\ntoward the deck in those gnarled fingers, toward
\nthe sheen of sun on water, the road and the bridge,
\nthe cities on the far side, toward you.<\/p>\n

It doesn\u2019t matter what we play: 66, gin rummy,
\ncribbage, even two hands of solitaire, laid out
\nlike opposing armies or fields fresh planted, seven shirts
\nspaced out on each side of the clothesline, falling straight,
\nquiet in the fading heat.<\/p>\n

You hold your cards loosely,\u00a0competent<\/em>,
\na word from last summer, but you don\u2019t
\nalways win.\u00a0 I learn to bridge the cards without
\nspraying any into the porch screen,
\ndragonflies darting toward the river.<\/p>\n

I learn about matrimony from the thin band
\nembedded in the swollen skin of your ring finger, about eternity
\nfrom the way you refer to Grandpa as though
\nhe were still here. And I learn about gratitude
\nwithout noticing, even how to spell it.<\/p>\n

Some things though I didn\u2019t learn, like when you taught me
\noctogenarian\u00a0<\/em>and I thought it meant
\na person eight decades old, thought
\nit meant you at your next birthday, never comprehending
\nthat it really meant
\nyou would leave me someday.<\/p>\n

Terri Breeden, Carson City, NV<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Friday, March 29, 2019 \u00a0\u201cI was nine that summer . . . \u201d I saw & heard my first robin yesterday, \u00a0standing on the roof of our courtyard cloister walk inspecting the early morning, then leaping up into the air … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":139,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[11641],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2977"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/139"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2977"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2977\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2979,"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2977\/revisions\/2979"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2977"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2977"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sites.udmercy.edu\/poetry\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2977"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}