Author: Denis Wilhelm

Settling In

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Family, friends and work associates from the States keep asking the same question. “Are you settling in?” I usually respond, “YES!” Of course we’re settling in – we’ve found our way to church, to the market, to the green grocer and to a few pubs. I can get to work now (most days) without taking the wrong round-about(s).

Deb makes our cottage a home

We initially had some challenges with housing. Our attached cottage (sort of like a townhouse apartment) needed repairs to the plumbing in the cloakroom (laundry), repairs to the shower which was leaking into the lounge (living room), a new bathroom subfloor and tile due to the leaking shower, an electrician to repair lights in the lounge (probably due to the water leaking through and shorting the circuitry), and some general maintenance (burned out lights, exhaust fans not working, etc.). And apparently some shingles had blown off the roof. Deb has handled all the contractors here and for her trouble and inconvenience was able to talk the landlord in to buying us a new bed. Tony (the landlord) and Carole his wife are now good friends with Deb. Carole has given us great recommendations for restaurants, day trips, theatre, museums, etc. And now that the repairs are done this really is a lovely place. So yes – we’re settling in.

Last Sunday we went to Mass at Saint Peter’s RC (Roman Catholic) Church in Cirencester. The RC is a very important distinction here in the United Kingdom; most churches are C of E (Church of England). And when someone mentions The Parish Church they don’t mean your parish – they mean the official Church of the county (or parish) – always C of E! (One more thing to learn.) Anyway at Mass last Sunday the lyrics of the communion hymn were something like “Leave your home; leave your family; follow Me, follow Me…” Deb and I were wiped out by this and we both fought back our tears. And I kept thinking that I followed my job here – not God! But this week a friend told me that God sometimes puts our feet on unfamiliar ground to remind us of what we take for granted. True, so true…

I sometimes dream that Charlise is coming for the weekend or that Anna and Noah are over for breakfast and then I wake up and stumble down the stairs to a quiet house – those are tough mornings. But most days are filled with new things; new adventures; new opportunities. And Deb and I have become even closer – in some ways it’s like we’re newlyweds again. Sharing this experience with my soul mate makes even the quiet mornings bearable.

So perhaps we didn’t leave our home to follow God to England, but as it turns out He was here waiting for us when we arrived.

Peace,

Denis

To Market, To Market…

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I love nursery rhymes. I loved them as a kid. I loved reading to my kids. And I love reading them to my grandkids. I’m heading to the market this morning and this keeps banging around in my head…

To market, to market, to buy a fat pig,
Home again, home again, jiggety-jig;
To market, to market, to buy a fat hog,
Home again, home again, jiggety-jog.

It was only until moving here to England that I’ve realised that so many words used here are from those beloved nursery rhymes. I pass signs on the Carriageway that bring them to mind.

Gloucester…

Doctor Foster went to Gloucester
In a shower of rain,
He stepped in a puddle,
Right up to his middle,
And never went there again.

And York…

The Grand Old Duke of York,
He had 10,000 men,
He marched them up to the top of the hill,
And he marched them down again.

And Surrey, and Leeds, and of course London (where Pussycat went to visit the Queen…)

Just the other day I was walking along a footpath and came upon a stile (a sort of stump that you use to climb over a fence) and immediately…

 “I saw a crooked man; who walked a crooked mile; he found a crooked six-pence; upon a crooked stile.”

A stile! A crooked stile! A bloody crooked stile!

We drove two hours north yesterday to visit a factory in Leicester and every sign seemed to trigger another rhyme in my head. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I get these nursery rhymes out of my head? And I wondered if my work associate could tell when I was drifting in “nursery rhyme mode”. I can’t seem to stop myself!

Maybe it’s a coping mechanism. There’s so much new here (or old if you will) and trying to absorb it all is a bit overwhelming. New words, new phrases, new places, new foods, new people. So perhaps the nursery rhymes are my comfort zone right now. It brings the familiar to an unfamiliar place. Maybe it’s not madness; it’s just a way of  processing tons (spelled tonnes now) of information.

It has helped with some of the melancholy; I imagine I’m sharing those nursery rhymes with Charlise or Anna or Noah. Or back in time with Tyson or Bess or Blake…

Elizabeth, Elspeth, Betsy and Bess,
They all went together to seek a bird’s nest.
They found a bird’s nest with five eggs in,
They all took one, and left four in.

And somehow it all feels right.

Peace,

Denis

 

Oaksey Is Not London

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My business cards say London, but I live in Oaksey, Wiltshire. Even my office doesn’t “live” in London. My office is in Swindon which is about an hour west of Heathrow (but Swindon doesn’t have much of a ring to it). Oaksey is about another half hour west of Swindon.

I’ve been to London several times and I love London but I’m truly much happier living out here in The Cotswolds. Because Swindon is to London what St. Charles is to St. Louis and Oaksey is like living in Defiance or Cottleville thirty years ago. So it’s more “my speed”. Quiet country living. Wide open spaces. The occasional sheep. Even so, all of this will still take some getting used to.

Today we had a little setback trying to get to Saint Peters Catholic Church in Cirencester for Mass. The road (the only one that I knew) was closed for repaving. We tried to figure another way around but we were unsuccessful and soon headed back to Oaksey (not necessarily on purpose). I’m sure God has already forgiven us – next week we’ll try again. This afternoon I walked around the village and was able to be with God in a special way – that’s sacrament, too.

Deb and I are learning new things each day – for instance  a trolley is a shopping cart. And the cashiers at the grocer aren’t all handicapped. They’re allowed to sit down to do their job. And you have to go up to the bar to order in most pubs – they’ll allow you to sit at a table but no one’s going to take your order. And a truck is a lorry. And signs that say “Give Way” mean yield. (And you should particularly “give way” when a lorry is speeding up to you on the right!). So much to learn!

Somehow knowing that the road narrows does not calm me down.

I’m very happy that we’ve landed in Oaksey and we will be able to learn at a slower pace out here in The Cotswolds (think boondocks) than if we were plunked in the middle of London. So we’ll keep exploring the countryside and the villages and each day will get easier and we’ll get smarter (or at least Deb will). Plus we can always take the train to London if we need some city life.

In the meantime we’ll just be known as the Americans in the grey VW Golf (so watch out!) Oh, I’m sure we’ll probably embarrass ourselves from time to time. We’ll likely say or do something that the locals will find amusing but that’s okay. We’re heading into our second week now and all is well (almost).

How long before I stop missing sweet Charlise, Anna and Noah kisses and hugs? Probably never (I hope).

Cheers,

Denis

Our Life Begins in England

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It’s 4:00 a.m. in our new home in Wiltshire, England and we can’t sleep. The moon is bright and shining through  our bedroom window. There are no street lights or traffic noises of any kind out here in our little village of Oaksey. Who knew that peace and quiet could be so alarming? It’s just very quiet.

We arrived in London on Monday night and made our way out here to the Cotswolds yesterday. We’ll have a car later today and will no longer be dependent upon the kindness of Mark (my Director here in the U.K.) but I’m feeling a little ambivalent about assuming TOTAL driving responsibilities. Deb will have to learn to drive on the left side of the road, too. That way we can take turns driving and cursing. Bloody hell!

Almost too quiet (almost)

To do list: learn to drive; unpack; set up a bank account; figure out when to say “cheers” and “keen” and “fancy”; find our way around the local markets; drink tea; go to work (me not Deb – she’s got plenty to do at the house).

It’s a blessing that we have so much to do – less time to miss our family and friends back home. Plus e-mail, Skype, Face-time and Facebook brings us all closer together (at least virtually). Thank you God, for creating people smart enough to make all this technology possible. It makes the “being away” so much easier to bear.

Now, if you could just put a dimmer switch on that bright moon outside our bedroom window…

Peace,

Denis

Love and Marriage

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Love and marriage. Go together like a horse and carriage? I think that’s the lyric.

Today is our wedding anniversary. And our love does go together with our marriage. We don’t have a horse or a carriage, but we have had 37 years of wedded bliss. I suppose some days are more blissful than others but altogether it’s been an incredible ride even without a horse and carriage. And we have been blessed in countless ways.

Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that I stood at the altar of Trinity Church and turned and watched as Debbie walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. The church was flooded with light on that January afternoon and as she approached me it appeared that the light was emanating from her. And that’s how each day since has been: she fills my life with light!

37 years ago we had no idea where we would be today. But if I could have dreamed this big back then, this is exactly what my dream would have been. This life. This wife. This family. This love.

For 37 years I have been married to the person that I love and respect more than anyone else in the world. Deb “gets me” and she makes me want to be a better person. And because of her I believe that I am. I would never have achieved any success in this life without her inspiration, love and support. And I’d like to think I’ve helped her along the way, too.

Deb,

Thanks for an amazing life. You are my heart and my soul.

Love,

Denis

Packing Boxes, Checklists, and Deadlines, Oh My!

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There’s a lot to get done this week. The Week. The one before we leave for England. In my mind this week was going to be much easier. We had mapped out everything very carefully: Housing – check; Rental Car – check; Passports/Visas/International Drivers Licenses – check; Banking – check; Airline tickets – check. But now it’s here. The Week. The  Last One. And all of a sudden it all feels a little overwhelming.

We still have lots to do and taking time to blog isn’t helping get any of it done. But I just needed to clear my head and write a bit. Usually I take a few moments at the beginning of each new year to think about all the possibilities that lie ahead. This year even more so.

We will be living in the United Kingdom and hopefully we will be traveling all over Europe. Certainly we will be making a trip to Paris in April (already booked) and hope to see Rome in the summer or early autumn and perhaps a trip to Munich or Madrid (or both). Of course we will spend lots of time in London and the English countryside as well.

But packing for nearly a year and working out details here before we leave is exhausting. Plus the whole point of moving to England has to do with my job and those responsibilities have increased exponentially because now I am V.P. of Operations for North America and Europe. So this isn’t actually an extended vacation – no matter what some of my staff may think. I will be working and ‘watching them’ from across the pond.

A Pawpaw and his girls

Then there’s the emotional aspect – perhaps being busy with the packing and planning is a good thing. It gives me less time to think about how much I’m going to miss my children and grandchildren. This holiday season has been especially wonderful with Charlise and Anna and Noah around for extended periods of time. Last night while some adults were out partying, Nana Deb and I had a pajama party at our house. Noah scrubbed up and sweet-smelling happily went to his crib. After their baths, the girls and Deb and I watched “Madeline” (a family favorite). Deb made pancakes this morning before Mass and this afternoon we went to the indoor pool/water park. Later the whole family had dinner together which included Deb’s trademark black-eyed peas (there’s some superstitious hokum about needing to eat them for prosperity or good luck in the new year). All in all, it was a great New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day.

Rocking Noah to sleep in my arms last night I had ‘a moment’. And I got choked up today at the pool watching the girls splishing and splashing. But I’m determined to stay positive and not get too sad or overly emotional before we leave for England even though my heart is heavy.

I don’t why but this evening the girls doled extra bedtime kisses. It felt like a gift from heaven. Maybe my granddaughters knew that their Pawpaw needed a little something more tonight (or maybe it was just those damned black-eyed peas).

Peace,

Denis

Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum

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I’ve had a little drummer boy at my house this year (and two little drummer girls, too). There’s something about having the grandkids around that makes Christmas that much merrier; that much happier – the giggles, the silliness, the excitement. It’s all pure joy!

Come Let Us Adore Him

But then there’s been the “holy” moments, too. Those kind of sneak up on me:

This morning Charlise’s Polly Pocket® and one of her friends have decided to join the Wise Men at our Nativity scene. Why wouldn’t Polly want to “come and adore Him”?

On Christmas morning at Mass Anna sang “Joy To The World” very loudly and to the delight of the parishioners sitting nearby – a solo choir of angels!  (Thank you Assumption Parish Pre-school and Miss Ashley)

And somehow Noah seems to find those times, when I’m feeling especially nostalgic, to run to me and wrap his arms around my neck and wipe away any melancholy – my little drummer boy!

This is one of those special Christmases when all three of our kids are home – Tyson home from Korea and Blake from Wisconsin and of course Bess and Travis here in town. It’s especially wonderful because next week Deb and I are leaving for our big European Adventure. And exciting as it is, it means more separation from our loved ones – so it’s bitterweet.

So this morning I’m having a quiet moment and thanking God for my blessings. And looking forward to some more family time (so rare; so precious) and along the way there’ll be lots more love and laughter and maybe even a tear or two, but my little drummer boy (and girls) will be there to wipe them away – pa rum pum pum pum!

Peace,

Denis

Letting Go of Christmas Past…

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For many of us Christmas carries a lot of baggage. Memories of Christmas, both good and bad, fill our hearts and influence how we celebrate today. Regardless of our beliefs, no other day of the year has the same amount of emotional punch as Christmas. We either find ourselves desperately and maniacally trying to live up to some ideal picture perfect Christmas – think Norman Rockwell, The Waltons (not the Wal-Mart ones), or “It’s A Wonderful Life” or we plunge into depression because we know that our ideal Christmas can never really happen.

Early Christmas disenchantment - circa 1956

Whether Jesus is your Savior or Christmas is just time of goodwill for you, it likely doesn’t diminish the significance of your memories of Christmases past. And the struggle to get past our bad ones or relive our good ones seems to be endless. There’s no shortage of disillusionment, heartache, and sadness in this world; so why not wrap some up for Christmas? My bitterness about a Christmas (long ago) that I didn’t get the gift that I really wanted or the year that someone was unkind to me or the time that I wasn’t invited to a party (or was forced to sit on Santa’s lap) can jusifiy my indignagtion. But holding on to anger, resentment and sorrow from years gone-by just poisons my ability to live joyfully now.

Perhaps this year is the year to let go of grudges or hurt feelings or regrets that overshadow my enjoyment of the holidays. Are my bad Christmas memories really worth all the hard feelings and self-pity? We say “peace on earth and goodwill to all” but often I only want peace and goodwill to me – I think it’s about time that I let go of my selfishness.

Last night my seven year-old granddaughter helped put it all in perspective for me. We attended an Advent Novena at a nearby convent. Standing there in the candle-lit chapel, hearing the sisters begin to sing, Charlise leaned over to me and said, “Pawpaw, I think I’m going to cry.” When I asked why, she said, “Because it’s so beautiful!” And we were wrapped up in that moment – a moment so beautiful it brought us both to tears.

This year the house may not be clean enough and the children may not be well-behaved and the food may not be perfect and the gifts may not delight but Christmas will come anyway. So I’ve decided to sing “Let It Go, Let It Go, Let It Go!” and get over any disappointments along the way. And I will be merry this Christmas because I have so many blessings for which to be thankful.

This year I already have a happy Christmas memory. An angel named Charlise brought it to me last night!

Peace,

Denis

That’s Mr. Cranky Pants To You!

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Some days are better than others. Today is one of the “others”. Bad night of sleep. Lousy weather. I have a crick in my neck. I have employee evaluations to complete. And I have an appointment to see my dermatologist (who for the record has no bedside manner; although I don’t why you’d have to be in bed to see a dermatologist).

And it’s Christmas! Well, it’s Christmas on T.V. and at the mall, and on the radio endlessly, and at work – another boatload of sweet treats and fatty delights was just delivered here. And I swear some of my co-workers would eat dirt on a cracker if it were free. So I’m a little cranky today and I should probably just stay in my office so no one gets hurt. But for the love of God, will someone please stop draining the coffee urn without brewing another pot of coffee! Is that too much to ask? Because it’s Christmas and I’m supposed to be cheerful and I can’t do that without some caffeine. I’m begging you! Just one cup of coffee…

Deep cleansing breath. Deep cleansing breath. Go to a happy place. Go to a happy place. I try so hard to not be a curmudgeon but sometimes it feels as if the cards have been stacked against me. I’m really a lovely person (once you get to know me) but even lovely people can have crummy days now and again.

I admit it. I’m running a little low on patience, compassion, and give-a-shit-ness today. And I don’t care if that’s not a word either. I’ve received three calls on my cell phone this morning from someone who says each time, “hold on I’ve got the wrong number”. What am I supposed to “hold on” for (to)? Is this some kind of elaborate joke or some vicious conspiracy to slowly drive me mad? It’s working!

For the record I would like to just wallow in my self-pity and embrace my contemptuousness and be left alone (WHY CAN’T THEY LEAVE ME ALONE?). And the idiots on the road this morning (no doubt singing along with “Have A Holly Jolly Christmas” blaring from the ALL CHRISTMAS radio station) were particularly annoying in their inability to get out of my way! Not too mention the eternal roadwork on the Expressway exit near my office which is a daily thorn in my side. Poor me!

Tomorrow will likely be a better day. And I will likely be in a better mood. But today the forecast is cranky with a good chance of crabby. So brew another pot of coffee and steer clear of Cranky Pants!

Oh and Merry (almost) Christmas!

Peace,

Denis

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJxi0zCdGEY

Be Prepared!

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Be Prepared! That’s the Boy Scout motto. It’s also good advice for most situations in life. We all know how to be prepared: put on clean underwear, check your oil, look both ways before you cross, replenish your First Aid Kit, take cover, get insurance, wear protection, know your escape route, fuel up, put your head between your legs, etc., etc., etc.

But sometimes even the best laid plans fail. And we have to “pick up the pieces” and move on. Or we can just sit and cry. I usually prefer to cry while I’m “picking up the pieces” but that’s just me.

Our son Tyson, who is in the Air Force, was due home from his tour in Korea on Thursday but his flight was cancelled due to equipment failure. So what was supposed to be travel on Wednesday/Thursday became travel on Thursday/Friday. Of course we were all disappointed and some plans needed to be scrapped and others amended. But Ty’s home now and that’s the important thing. Still none of us was prepared for the travel interruptions – ugh!

Last weekend I really needed to get some things done on Sunday afternoon but my grandson woke up from his nap with a loud cry. I rescued him from his terror and held him close. Soon he was back asleep in my arms. Listening to Noah’s sweet breath sounds and feeling his tiny heart beating in rhythm with my own, suddenly all the important things that needed to be done weren’t so important or necessary. Holding him was all that mattered.

During Advent we’re reminded to “Prepare the Way of the Lord”. I’ve decided that preparing for God is exactly opposite of preparing for an earthquake or tornado or any other calamity. There’s no ‘stocking up’ or ‘hunkering down’ required. Preparing to receive God in my life requires that I just be. That I find the peacefulness in my soul. That I stop doing. And that I just let it happen. It’s in the darkness that I see the light. It’s in the quiet that I hear the song. And it’s in the stillness that I am moved.

Oh, I know that I need to be more prayerful, more loving, more giving and more tolerant but that will only happen when I allow Jesus to takeover and I stop planning my next move. So right now I’d just like to hold Noah again and let it be.

Mary said, Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word. Luke 1:38

Peace,

Denis

P.S. I suspect that Mary was no more prepared when Jesus was born than I am today and still He comes…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPbV_HTpyx0