Over Morning Coffee

Over morning coffee, Mrs. Troy talks about her life, her times, and the beautiful

children with flowing curls as if they were still there buzzing around the neighborhood.

“A wonderful place to live,” she says. Where Father Louis took good care of his flock,

and fresh baked bread was part of every meal.”

“We had a new car every few years, even during the Depression. Dad always bought his

cars new. Said he wasn’t going to fuss with someone else’s trouble.” Mrs, Troy talks

about her life, her times as if they still roamed around Logan Square. And her daughter,

Josephine, grown away as well fills in some fond recollections of ‘who’ and ‘when,’

people and times like them no longer there except in resurrected conversation.

“We should have put the recorder on,” her daughter laments once and again as she and

her mother get up from the table and walk arm in arm out the kitchen door on their

way to the grocery store. Talking about shopping now, and frozen vegetables, and a

good price on chicken breasts, and how much was left in the refrigerator when Dad

died a year ago in May.

“How Dad loved to eat,” Mrs. Troy recounts with a smile. “He would eat anything put

in front of him. But I don’t need much myself these days. Maybe just some apples

will do.”

Chris Hanch ca. 1982