Author: Denis Wilhelm

Moving Across The Pond

/ Denis Wilhelm / 4 Comments

One of the things that I’ve always wanted to do is live abroad. I recently got my chance and have decided to take it. This coming January, Deb and I will be moving to Swindon, Wiltshire, U.K. for one year. I’ll be assisting with setting up my company’s new division in England. But in addition to working and living in England, we will be traveling all over Europe with my new job responsibilities. In between business meetings and touring retail developments, there should be plenty of time for castles, cathedrals, museums and the occasionl glass of wine. That’s the good news.

This will be our mantra

The bad news is that our children and grandchildren will be living in the United States. After serving six years abroad in the Air Force our son Tyson is returning stateside whilst (I’ll probably be using that word a lot in England) we’ll be living in Europe. And our grandbabies won’t be nearby (something we’ve grown accustomed to) – not to mention our daughter, son-in-law and our younger son, as well as our parents, siblings, cousins, friends, etc. If I focus on the negatives I start to question my decision. But then I remember that it’s only a year. And it’s a year in Europe!

So we will adjust, even if we shed a few tears along the way. We pray that God continues to bless our family and keep us together (even though we are apart). And as we have for the last 36+ years – Deb and I will carry one another on this journey. There has been so much racing through our heads since we made the decision to live abroad for a year : “Big things” like leaving family and friends (especially Charlise and Anna and Noah). “Little things” like not getting to watch our favorite TV shows in England. And “other things” like learning how to drive on the “wrong side” of the road.

In the meantime, we need to close up our house here and begin the search for our new home in England. Our goal is to immerse ourselves in the culture and community. We hope to live in a town or village that is primarily English – not some enclave for expatriots. We will be traveling to Swindon this fall to begin our search for housing. Fortunately, my work associate, Mark is British and has offered to help us with that task. Deb and I have lots to do and much to discover and explore. My HR Director is assisting with much of the mundane stuff – work visas, cost of living adjustments, cultural integration, etc, etc. That frees us up to do more important things like figure out where to get our hair cut and take our dry-cleaning and to look for good restaurants and pubs.

We will strive to really make England our home in 2012. Of course we hope to have lots of visitors. And we expect to make some new friends along the way, too.  Please keep us in your prayers. As always, I will share whatever and whenever I can.

Cheers,

Denis

If The Prodigal Son Had A Sister…

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I have two sons and a daughter. The sons both live a distance from us – one in Wisconsin and one in Korea. The daughter lives nearby. We see the sons (if we’re lucky) a couple of times a year. We see the daughter (and we are lucky) several times a week.

When we talk (Skype) with the sons, it’s usually about important upcoming events and significant happenings – weddings, births, travel, careers, etc. When we talk to the daughter, it can be mundane – what’s for dinner, aches and pains, the weather, etc.

It occurred to me recently that perhaps our daughter might sometimes feel like the older brother of the Prodigal Son. Needless to say, she’s here day-in and day-out listening to our latest complaints and answering our latest requests – always supportive, always cheerful, always ready for more. When “the boys” come to town it’s cause célèbre. And she often helps plan and carry out whatever festivities take place. By contrast, when she comes to dinner, she’s expected to set the table, help prepare the meal and clean up afterwards. Hardly seems fair…

Lucky Dad with Best Daughter in the World

But fairness is never part of the equation. Bess (our beautiful and gracious daughter) has inherited her mother’s gift of charity. She seldom thinks of herself first. She wants EVERYONE to be happy (and cared for, and well fed, and loved, etc.). She always gives of herself and she rarely expects anything in return. Her cheerfulness is contagious and she makes others happy by just being around her (again – a gift from her mother).

She’s here. She’s available. She’s constant. And I know that they say (whoever they are) that familiarity breeds contempt. But in our case it seems to me that familiarity creates family. We are family. And I need my daughter. And I hope she knows how much I love and appreciate her. I try to tell her in lots of small ways because we don’t have big celebrations for her and Travis and their children. We just have small celebrations and familiar and comfortable times together. And for me those small intimate gatherings are almost always more meaningful than the grand events planned for our sons.

And because of who she is, I doubt that Bess has ever resented her brothers or felt pushed aside when we “slaughter the fatted calf.” But just in case, she should know:

My (daughter), you are here with me always; everything I have is yours. ~ Luke 15:31

Peace,

Denis (Dad)

Did He Crack It?

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My eleven month old grandson Noah is a rough and tumble boy. He started walking about a week ago and now he (sort of) runs. Keep in mind, he has a 3 year old sister that he’s trying to keep up with. Also he is fearless (or clueless) about careening through dangerous piles of toys or around sharp corners or heavy objects that are easy to pull off of a table. He is just a curious little guy that deals with the consequences of his curiosity on an “as needed” basis.

Fearless Noah

Because he has excellent parents that run a lot of interference he luckily has had a lot of near misses. Only on occasion does he really get hurt. And most of the time when he stumbles and falls (or pulls something down on top of himself) he doesn’t show any signs of hurt or distress. Usually he just shrugs it off and moves (quickly) on to the next adventure. Always with a smile. Always with renewed determination. Watching him (and his parents) is like watching a finely tuned and well rehearsed ballet. It just flows – effortlessly.

Now I will admit that my heart has stopped a time or two while snatching Noah out of the jaws of a near calamity. But then he looks at me and smiles that big toothy smile and I just want to join him on his further adventures (but with everything padded and all the dangereous stuff put up!).

His big sister Anna has coined the phrase, “Did he crack it?” Which means: is there blood? It (this usually means his head) is not cracked unless there is actual blood pouring out from somewhere. Thankfully this rarely happens. And even more thankfully I have only witnessed it a time or two. But even without blood there are lots of little bumps and lumps. And I’m dreading the day when I’m the ‘adult in charge’ and there is more serious injury. It happened to Nana (Deb) on Friday and I think she cried harder than Noah. I know that I will get my turn – I just hope he doesn’t “crack it” on that fateful day.

It’s exhausting at times being a grandparent. Still it’s the best fun that I ever get to have. And as long as Noah keeps smiling (even after a few tears) he and I will just keep stumblin’ along.

Peace,

Denis

Another Day ~ Another Miracle

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Miracles. I was reminded yesterday that miracles happen daily. Sometimes we’re blessed to witness them from a front row seat.

My nephew Dave and his wife Laura had their first child yesterday. Logan David Wilhelm was born via emergency C-section at St. John’s Mercy Hospital in St. Louis. He weighs 2 lbs. 7 oz. and is 15-1/2” long. He was born two months early. Laura’s intuition probably saved her baby’s life. She felt that something wasn’t right and saw her doctor yesterday morning. I know that it’s true that Moms can sense their children’s needs. But this is the first time that I have witnessed it in vitro. Apparently the umbilical cord was wrapped around little Logan and was depriving him of nutrition and oxygen.

Even though Logan’s birth weight is extremely low and he was born 9 weeks early we remain very hopeful. He is receiving the best care possible in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at one of the best hospitals in the country. They have already reduced the amount of oxygen he is receiving and the doctors believe that my nephew and his wife should be able to hold him in a few days. I’m told that his Daddy’s touch already calms him!

My wife was with Laura and Dave until my brother Dave and sister-in-law Pat could arrive from Atlanta late last night. Great Aunt Debbie reports: “Logan is beautiful but very tiny.”

Logan ~ our little miracle

Not all miracles make the news and they may not affect multitudes but they are miracles none the less. Logan is already responsible for an amazing outpouring of love and kindness among our family and friends. His life has changed us all forever. And that change alone is miraculous. We have reaffirmed our love for one another and we are humbled by his birth. And we are reminded (again) that life is precious and it is truly a gift from God – never to be taken for granted.

We have every reason to believe that Logan will thrive but we also know that he has a tough road ahead. So much to ask of such a tiny little boy!

But someday, in 100 years or so, he can tell his story to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren: that with God’s grace and your prayers there once was a miracle named Logan.

Peace,

Denis

Smoke and Mirrors

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Recently I was in a meeting with some Sales and Marketing people. I’m the Operations guy so I have the task of actually producing the stuff that the sales people are selling – on time, on budget, etc. During this particular meeting with a potential new customer there was lots jargon and business terminology being thrown about but mostly (it seemed to me) to be a contest of who could come up with the ‘best turn of phrase’. We talked about having “boots on the ground” and “the right DNA” and there was talk of “paradigm shifting” and “proof of concept”. My favorite was when someone stated, “remember, we don’t have to build the church for Easter Sunday”. Wow – I was clearly out of my league! All this became sort of  a game of one-upmanship. For a while all I heard was, “wah, wah, wah, wah, wah, wah”. I had little to add, except for the occasional nod to their collective brilliance.

It occurred to me that for some folks there is a tremendous need to “play the part”. They feel driven to look and sound the way that their audience expects them to behave. This is exactly why I’m not in Sales. I suppose that I’m too transparent. But at least I’m true to myself (I think?).

I thought later about how many of us feel compelled to behave a certain way. We may not even believe what we espouse but we carry on as if we do. Perhaps if you repeat something often enough you will begin to believe it. “I will be kind.” “I will be kind.” “I will be kind.” Or maybe not…

There’s a guy that I know who is very pious. He carries himself with a certain air of holiness that is quite convincing, if not in fact true. He puts on quite a show of prayer and solemnity at Mass. He approaches the altar for Eucharist with great care and much bowing and reverence. He holds himself up as the epitome of righteousness. But at the end of day, he’s still an asshole.

Now I know that God alone knows his heart and soul. And perhaps when he’s approaching the altar he’s asking God to forgive his unkindness. Or maybe not. I for one would be much happier if this guy spent a little more energy on being loving than on being pious.

But now of course it’s my turn: “I will not judge.” “I will not judge.” “I will not judge.” Or maybe I will… Being honest is hard, especially being honest with yourself.  So maybe I’m more of a “Sales Person” than I think – perhaps I’m trying to convince myself that I’m ALWAYS the good guy.

I’ll bet God is laughing at that. Thankfully, I know that God is forgiving me as well.

If I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-4)

Peace,

Denis

10 Things You Should Know About Mexico City

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I’ve been working in Mexico City again this week and I’ve made some ‘not so keen’ observations that might help others that travel to this beautiful city of nearly nine million people.

Here goes:

  1. People appreciate it greatly when you “try” to speak Spanish – even a little bit. It’s not too hard to remember “si” or “buenos dias” or “gracias”. I’m always greeted with smiles when I speak Spanish (or perhaps they’re just suppressing their need to laugh at my poor pronunciation).
  2. Men don’t wear shorts here. Only children and touristas.
  3. Public prayer is encouraged. In the El Palacio de Hierro department store in which we were installing a new shop there was a small shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe at the employee entrance. Several people blessed themselves upon arrival or departure from work. Imagine that at a Macy’s!
  4. Margaritas are for girls. Next time order a Michelada or a tequila.
  5. Refried beans is the breakfast of campeones! Just eat it. It’s great with your eggs.
  6. Mexico City is in a valley of mountains; the elevation is high and the air is dry. Wear a sweater at night. It gets cool even in the summer – nobody will think you’re a sissy (unless of course you order a Margarita).
  7. There is a rich and vibrant history here. There is French, German, and English colonial heritage as well as Spanish. The Mexican people have also held on to many native customs and traditions. How sad for the U.S. that the same is not true.
  8. Mexicans work hard. My installation crew here could easily “out-work” any crew I’ve had in the U.S. or Europe.
  9. Films dubbed in Spanish in Spain are annoying to Mexicans – According to Jorge, “Rambo or Rocky shouldn’t speak ‘proper Spanish’ with the lisp!” “Muy loco!”
  10. If you look like me people will ask you if you’re Steve Martin – happens every time I’m down here. I usually just smile and say “si” or “buenos dias” or “gracias”.

Evening sky over Mexico City

    I’m looking forward to getting home tomorrow but I will miss Cuidad de Mexico a little. Especially Jorge, Hector, Gustavo, Miguel, Marco and Marcela who did an amazing job this week and welcomed me into their city as well.

Tonight it seems only fitting that I ask Our Lady of Guadalupe to watch over each of them. May she intervene on their behalf and ask her Son our Lord to bless them and their families.

Oh yes – #11. We’re very Catolico down here, too.

Peace,

Denis

Below is a link to a slide show from my trip this week – disfrutar!

http://tripwow.tripadvisor.com/tripwow/ta-028b-6f66-a828?lm

Don’t Be Fooled By Her Size

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

When my wife was a little girl she wanted to be Barbie® – tall and blonde and all the rest. But instead God decided to make her Midge® – Barbie’s best friend. Midge is short and brunette and NOT BARBIE. But even though Midge (Deb) is ‘vertically challenged’ you shouldn’t be fooled by her size. She is larger than life. Her circle of influence is boundless. She dreams big. She has more class in her little finger than most folks have in their entire body. And she has more friends today than I have had in my entire life.

The best things do come in small packages

Most descriptions of her include phrases like: big heart; generous spirit; huge smile; hearty laugh; giving friend, loving mother, and caring daughter. These are hardly the images of a mousey little Midge. And Deb does things in a big way, too. Meals are an event. You’ll never leave her table hungry. Holidays are a time for elegant decorating and grand entertaining, and fabulous food.

And if you are in need, she’s the friend/sister/daughter/mother to call on. If you need a laugh, she will always deliver. If you need someone to hold or if you need to be held, her arms are always open wide. If you need to cry, she will cry, too. Debbie has this incredible gift of making you feel that when she’s with you, no one else is more important or more needed at that moment than you. You have her complete undivided attention. And she gives her entire self.

Her children and grandchildren will also tell you that she is a ‘force to be reckoned with’ as well. And most importantly, you should NEVER attempt to hurt one of her children or grandchildren – she’s like a lioness in her need to protect them. And I believe that she would “stare down the devil” if the need arose.

And for me, well when Deb walks in the room it’s like everyone else fades into the background. All the light in the space seems to be emanating from her. She just gets to me.  Deb always tells our granddaughters “that you have to be pretty on the inside if you want to be pretty on the outside”. And she lives those words, too. Her beauty shines through.

Barbie, you might be a statuesque blonde but you’re empty on the inside, I’ll take ‘ma femme petite belle’ over you any day!

Even though I’m over a foot taller than she, I know that she stands well above me in terms of heart and soul. But most of you are already aware of this.

Peace,

Denis

Deb, it’s been my pleasure and honor to “look up” to you all these many years. I love this life we share.  I love you, D

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cjgav6VXUxc

Sunday Mornings

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I love Sunday mornings. It’s officially my time to do nothing. We leave for Mass around 10:00 so there are 3 or 4 glorious hours most Sunday mornings with nothing planned. What makes this makes this time so precious is the fact that it is so carefree – no agenda; no schedule; no demands. Just blissful peace and quiet. I don’t like the television on (although occasionally I will turn on some music). Most mornings, I “hit the ground running” but on Sundays I like to  S L O W   D O W N  and breath in the beauty of life. I like to take time to be thankful for my blessings.

Over coffee and a leisurely breakfast we’ll discuss our day (or not) but mainly we just sort of “drink in” the serenity of another Sunday morning. It’s cathartic. When the kids were little I told them that at bedtime or nap time they needed to rest and “recharge their batteries”. I think that’s what Sunday mornings do for me – they recharge my batteries.

It might seem a little silly and perhaps I’m just playing games with my mind but I need my Sunday mornings. I need for the world to be peaceful and still for just a moment. I need the quiet freedom Sunday morning provides. It refreshes my soul and re-energizes me.

Summer Sunday Morning

Of course I know that some folks work on Sundays and not everyone lives a 9 to 5 existence. But I think we all need to find our ‘Sunday morning’ regardless of what time or what day it may really be. Our world is becoming more and more hectic and fast-paced everyday. We all demand constant information and instant gratification. We must be fast; first; and best! So what I’m suggesting is slightly counter-cultural: stop running (for just a moment); stop worrying (if you can); stop achieving (or over-achieving). Just relax. Just take a deep breath and let go of it all. Find your ‘Sunday morning’ wherever and whenever you can. And relish it.

Tomorrow I will be able to “slay dragons” but only if I have my Sunday morning first.

Peace,

Denis

Modern Family

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

When Deb and I got married we were determined to have a ‘Modern Family’. We wouldn’t be confined to traditional roles and we would NEVER have the kind of marriage our parents had. After all, this was 1975 and times had changed and we were young and current and ready to embrace life head-on. We even toyed with the idea of me taking Deb’s last name. Instead of her becoming Deborah Wilhelm; I would become Denis Dobbs. But Debbie and Denis Dobbs sounded a little too cute. And besides we might then be inclined to name future children with double “D” names as well. Debbie and Denis and Durwood and Dolly and Dora Dobbs – yikes! Plus with brothers named Dave and Dean, I had spent my formative years being called David-Dean-Denis by my dad. So we abandoned the idea of me taking her maiden name and the ‘hyphen-thing’ (Dobbs-Wilhelm) seemed like too much trouble. Still we were convinced that we should work hard to be a couple that wouldn’t become the stereotypical husband and wife.
 
We were resolute in our desire to live equally as husband and wife. We shared the household tasks. We both worked outside the home. We had a partnership-marriage. Everything was 50-50. We made all of our decisions together. Our mantra was: Whatever we do MUST be good for both of us! There was no “me first”. I made a conscious effort to avoid terms like “the little lady” (although Deb is little and a lady) and I never expected her to sacrifice ANYTHING that she wanted for me or vice-versa. We both would bristle when people assumed that I would be the “bread winner” and she would be the content little “housewife”. Who did they think we were – June and Ward Clever???
 
Then we had children. And we adapted our ‘Modern Family’ in a way that I would have never imagined. Deb chose to work part-time and forsake a career. This was unthinkable just a few years earlier but looking at Tyson’s sweet face for the first time we knew we couldn’t place him in daycare. So we adjusted our lives accordingly. I worked days; Deb worked nights and we were blessed with a sister-in-law who would cover the overlap times (Aunt Pat is still adored by her niece and nephews). And then came Bess. And then came Blake. So we shared the load. We both changed diapers; gave baths; took turns with feedings; read bedtime stories; etc., etc.  For several years we took opposite shifts at home. Deb handled the daytime – breakfast, lunch, playtime, nap time; I took care of the nighttime – dinner, bath, bedtime stories & prayers. I believed then that my sons and daughter would benefit from having a dad that was ‘hands-on’. I still believe that today.

When I see what my son-in-law Travis does everyday for his kids and how natural Tyson is with his daughter it reminds me how much I loved those years when my children were small (even the dirty diapers). It was important for me to know that I could do it all – even though I never had to. Deb and I have a partnership. And although our goal was 50-50, anyone in a successful marriage will tell you that sometimes it’s 80-20 or 40-60. You carry your partner when you can because you know the day will come when you’ll need to be carried, too.
 
As the years flew by the children grew and jobs changed and we sort of (gasp!) fell into more traditional roles. I was on a ‘career-track’ and Deb continued to work part-time until the kids were in school. And even when she went back to work full-time her primary focus was still on the kids and the house. We had become what we were determined to avoid – TRADITIONAL.
 
But Deb loves to cook and family mealtime was important. Once our daughter pointed out that we were unusual as a family because we ate dinner together almost every night (at a table and actually speaking to one another!). We worshipped together on Sundays and prayed together at bedtime and at meals. I took care of the lawn. Deb took care of the house. From the “outside looking in” we were very much the kind of couple my parents were – except we chose our roles; they were not thrust upon us.

And that’s what makes us a ‘Modern Family’ today. I work. Deb stays home. She cooks. I eat. I mow the lawn. She cleans the house. We don’t do things this way because we’re expected to – we do things this way because we haven chosen to do things this way. We can both change our grandson’s diaper. We can both travel around the world. We can both lounge on the sofa watching football. We can both freely show emotion or wipe a tear or give a hug or speak our love.
 

The (almost) Dobbs

Today’s ‘Modern Families’ come in lots of different shapes and sizes – single parent families; same-sex couples; blended families; bi-coastal families. But love remains the same. Ultimately what role you fill or how you look to someone else doesn’t really matter. Family is where you can be you. Family is where you can refresh your soul. Family is refuge. Family is hope. Family is eternal. Family is love. I guess that’s not so modern after all.
 
God has blessed Deb and me with one another and with our beautiful children and grandchildren. Our ‘Modern Family’ might not look like the one I envisioned 36 years ago but I really like this one better. And the journey from there to here and beyond continues to be amazing…
 
Peace,
 
Denis

Making Anna Cry

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Last night my three year-old granddaughter Anna was being a little mischievous. She was antsy at dinner and didn’t want to eat anything (except dessert of course). After much cajoling she finally ate enough to qualify for some ice cream. Once that milestone had been met she promptly bounded out of her chair and dashed to the refrigerator. And then she threw both the refrigerator and freezer doors open. When I reminded her that she wasn’t supposed to open the refrigerator she protested that “she had eaten her dinner”.

Now usually I’m pretty accommodating when it comes to the grandkids (some would say I’m a sucker) but this particular time I decided to hold my ground. In a battle with an impetuous three year-old you have to be pretty wily. So I decided to show her who was boss. I told her that I would gladly get her some ice cream from the downstairs freezer after she picked up the Legos that were strewn on the laundry room floor. Did I mention that I was using my big loud “I’M IN CHARGE” voice? Anna is not accustomed to hearing me speak to her that way and with that came the tears. Not just tears – sobs!

Her mother had previously threatened her with a dreaded “time out” and Anna was undaunted. But Pawpaw raising his voice and telling her NO? That was too much! And she cried. And cried! And cried!
 
When her Nana tried to intervene by asking her why she was crying so hard, she responded: “Because Pawpaw was mean to me!” Ouch! That stung. I had merely wanted her to mind me, not to emotionally scar her for life. What had I done? What kind of beast had I become? Now I was the one fighting back the tears. But instead of giving in (my first impulse), I decided to reason with her. Reasoning with a three year-old is like trying to put socks on an octopus. But I gave it a try because I think that Anna is more reasonable than most three year-olds (at least in my experience – remember I raised her mother).
 
I held her and wiped her tears and explained that my old refrigerator couldn’t handle being opened and closed too often and that the doors don’t always close all the way without the special push that Nana and Pawpaw give them. Because three year-olds anamorphize most things, in her mind that poor refrigerator became a living thing which must be treated with some compassion. Additionally I told her that I would help her pick up the Legos and we could count them to see how many we each could pick up. She smiled because she counted: “one, two, three, four, five, one hundred”. And then declared herself the winner! By then most of the tears were gone although her little face was still red and tear-stained.
 
When I returned to the table with the promised ice cream she seemed to have forgiven me but I’ll never know for sure. And of course Deb (Nana) and Bess (Mommy) were now crying, too.

During Happier Times

Making Anna cry is not what I had intended to do. But I suppose that all grandfathers find themselves in tough spots sometimes. I could have ignored her naughtiness, and maybe I should have, but something made me risk her adoration by standing firm. I hope that she will understand how much I love her and that even the best granddaughters need to be told “no” every once in a while. But for now I’ve sworn off disciplining my grandkids, I much prefer being the big softie.
 
I don’t plan on making Anna cry any time soon. Honestly, it’s really more than I can take. So yes Anna; whatever it is you want, the answer is yes!
 
Peace,

Denis