Author: Denis Wilhelm

Business As Usual

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I was in New York this week to meet with customers. That’s my story – it was business as usual. Fly into La Guardia; take the car service to my hotel in Mid-town; grab a quick-lunch; make my appointments. Easy-sneezy.

But New York is never easy. And New York in summer (with all the wonderful tourists) is really not easy. Now I know that for a lot of folks New York is very exciting and a “first time destination” but I’m there several times a year and I’m (usually) on a mission to get there; get it done; get out. It’s not that I don’t like New York – I actually love New York, I just really don’t have time for staring up at the skyscrapers or leisurely walking down 5th Avenue or Times Square – I’ve got to be somewhere; with someone; doing something REALLY REALLY IMPORTANT! It’s just business as usual.

Now what is it that I do actually? It’s a bit of mystery. And I want to keep it that way. Now that I have international accounts, I suppose that you could say that I’m an “International Man of Mystery” (but in the boring world of retail store fixture design, manufacturing, and installation). But that’s beside the point. I’ve “boiled it down” to this – my customers give me “pretty pictures” and I make “pretty fixtures” (no not light fixtures – we build cabinets, counters, racks, display walls – it’s the stuff that the stuff that you suckers – sorry consumers – buy is stacked and hung on). Very important work – without me you wouldn’t experience the joy of relinquishing your disposable income in well-appointed department and specialty stores. You’d be buying your pickles out of a barrel. That’s all I can tell you. How the magic happens must remain a mystery. The truth is: I’m not even sure.

Bryant Park with the New York Public Library in the background

This week in New York one of my customers had a conflict and at the last-minute she cancelled our meeting (we opted for speaking on the phone, which for the record I could have done from St. Louis) so I had a free afternoon. And I walked. I walked from Bryant Park in midtown to Ground Zero downtown. For one sweet afternoon in June it wasn’t business as usual. I actually S L O W E D  D O W N and walked (kind of like a tourist) through some of my favorite neighborhoods (Flat Iron, Chelsea, SoHo, Greenwich Village) and parks (Madison Park, Union Square and Washington Square Park) –  it was such a guilty pleasure!

My day ended with a brief meeting and a great dinner with my best customer (and friend), some great conversation and (a little) wine. Finally we went to a roof top bar on 5th Ave for (a few) drinks. My laugh muscles were sufficiently “worked out”.  That night we celebrated the conclusion of some successful projects. We shared fond memories from the past. And we looked forward to future endeavors. This is how business should be done – in a city that never sleeps, with spectacular weather, with people who you respect and admire, at good restaurants and nice night clubs.

Monday I guess it’s back to business as usual (maybe). But it will remain a mystery!

Peace,

Denis

“You Know What?”

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Charlise ~ The Little Patriot

“You know what?” is my six year-old granddaughter’s frequent question. When I respond, “No. What?” I am usually regaled with any number of astonishing facts (some are even based in reality). I love that Charlise is so full of fun and energy with a heart so big it fills up the room. Every new experience and adventure is met with the same never-ending enthusiam and joy. She just loves life! And she loves to learn new things. Which comes in handy when you’re a kindergartener and you’re expected to learn something new every day. What makes the “you know what?” so much fun for me is the fact that Charlise is genuinely fastinated with each new discovery and is usually just bubbling over with the need to share her newfound wisdom.

I can’t remember the last time that I was that happy to learn something new. What would it take to get me that excited? When did I stop wanting to know more? When did my brain get full??? I’m not sure but I think that I’ve lost my desire to learn new things. I don’t really believe it’s true that you “can’t teach an old dog new tricks”. I just think that most old dogs like me would rather not be bothered. I suppose I’m sort of at that “lay in the sun and scratch” phase of my life – let the puppies play fetch.

But being with Charlise renews my soul. She gets me excited about learning. Her zeal is contagious and I want to take part in her knowledge quest. So we’re learning some things together. And she’s teaching me some new things, too. And occasionally I even teach her one of my old tricks.

But with all this learning she’s losing some of her wide-eyed innocence. She’s a big girl now but it seems like only yesterday that I held her in my arms for the first time. And there’s a little bit of me that needs that baby girl back in my arms. I love her so much!

“But you know what?” She’s also learned that sometimes Pawpaw needs to hold his girl and she allows me that sweet pleasure. She also humors me with games that she’s outgrown (because she’s so smart). We still “hunt” for wild chihuahuas up on the terrace even though now she knows that there really are no such things; she just can’t break my heart, so she still plays along. And that’s what REALLY breaks my heart – that she pretends because she thinks I still want to hunt for wild chihuahuas (and I do). Which lets me know that she loves me, too.

“And you know what?” This growing up stuff is hard work – especially for sappy Pawpaws. But I’m learning more and more each day. For instance, I was informed that I looked very patriotic on Memorial Day with my blue shorts, red shirt and white hair – who knew?

Peace,

Denis

We Remember…

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Three years after the Civil War ended, Decoration Day was established as a time for the nation to decorate the graves of the war dead with flowers. May 30th was chosen because it was believed that flowers would be in bloom all over the country on that date. It’s now called Memorial Day and is celebrated on the last Monday of May.

Memorial Day today seems in many ways to be just another 3-day weekend. Of course you will see red, white and blue paper plates and napkins at backyard barbecues. You might also see some flags in the front yards of some homes. And of course, there will be memorials in most cities.  However it seems to me that too often Memorial Day has just become the summer kick-off. School is out. Vacations begin. Swimming pools will be opened. Cold beer, grilled burgers, corn-on-the cob, watermelon and ice cream will be served. All of this is good stuff but it misses the point.

My son is a Master Sergeant in the Air Force and he has seen the horrors of war. Brave men and women like Tyson take up arms and “do their jobs” everyday. Their mission is to protect our way of life. And they do this without question and often at great personal hardship. As a citizen I appreciate and applaud their sacrifices and service to our nation. Tyson is one of the lucky ones – he’s survived two deployments in Iraq. Unfortunately many others have perished.

Of course I love my son and I am proud of him.  I also love my country and am proud to be an American.  But I hate war.  And I would ALWAYS choose diplomacy over conflict. Even a “just war” kills innocent people. War is not pro-life; war is never a good answer. But regardless of my political beliefs, I believe that all Americans should honor the men and women that have given their lives in performance of their duty. In defense of freedom; in the eradication of terrorism, in the protection of human rights; these men and women deserve our respect and remembrance.

In 2000, to ensure that the sacrifices of America’s fallen heroes would never be forgotten, the U.S. Congress created “The National Moment of Remembrance Act”. The National Moment of Remembrance encourages all Americans to pause wherever they are at 3 p.m. local time on Memorial Day for a minute of silence to remember and honor those who have died in service to the nation.

So this Memorial Day, in between the barbecue and the beer and playing in the backyard, I will take a moment (or two) to thank the brave men and women that have served our nation, especially those who have died.

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Thanks Ty!

MSgt. Tyson Wilhelm is currently serving in Korea

Gardening – it sounds so much better than “pulling weeds”…

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This past weekend we finally got around to working in our gardens and flower beds. We’ve had an especially rainy spring and other than mowing the lawn between rainstorms we hadn’t done any real yard work yet this season. The task seemed overwhelming.

I rarely find working in the yard therapeutic. I know folks who swear that they can’t wait until they can “get their hands in the dirt”. But usually it just seems like work to me and this time was no exception – ugh! I started by pulling the “run-away” mint that my next door neighbor planted several years ago. According to Neighbor Bob (who is one of the nicest and most sincere guys that I know) he had no idea it would spread like wildfire and take over our side yard as well as his. Well at least it pulls easily and smells nice. Then there was a dead holly bush to remove. There were dead heads to cut-off of the peonies and hydrangea. And while Deb was pulling weeds out of the landscaping in the front yard, I “girded my loins” and made my way to the dreaded terrace.

If you squint your eyes it doesn't look too bad

The Terrace – sounds lovely, doesn’t it? Our backyard is terraced upwards and is full of shrubs, trees and perennials planted by the previous owner. She planted for seasonal color and variety – so we have red bud trees, jonquils, daffodils, and crocus; followed by lilacs and forsythia. As spring continues we see crabapple tree blossoms, daisies, peonies, iris, roses and lilies-of-the-valley. As summer approaches so do the hibiscus, tiger lilies and day lilies, along with the crepe myrtle and hydrangea. Fall brings the aster and the burning bushes in all their glory. Amidst this entire splendor are WEEDS. Miserable, lousy, rotten, stinking weeds!

I take a two-thronged approach toward weed control. I pull the good-for-nothing invaders (until my hands are sore and I’ve exhausted all known curse words) AND then I try to smother them with mulch. The weed-pulling and mountains of mulch are only temporary solutions at best. I’ve tried weed-killer sprays in the past but I usually only end up killing flowers or the occasional shrubbery. After a weekend (or two) of working at it ‘The Terrace’ usually looks okay from a distance. And that’s good enough for me. But of course the process needs to be repeated throughout the growing season.

I’ve come to the conclusion that people with BEAUTIFUL GARDENS must be mentally ill masochists who have nothing better to do with their time than to make normal people feel inadequate about their failure to control the weeds in their “poor excuse of a garden”. Because no matter how many gardening magazines or how-to books I’ve read or shows I’ve watched on HGTV, I still find myself pulling weeds. They never show the “behind the scenes” photos in those magagzines or on the Home & Garden shows of the poor slob that’s got sweat dripping down to his garden clogs. You’ll never see Martha Stewart slathered in calamine lotion because she’s mistakenly pulled poison sumac with her bare hands – she’s got some flunky doing that grunt work.

So as much as I’ve tried (and I have tried) I have yet to derive any bucolic pleasure from gardening. It’s just hot, itchy, back-breaking, weed-pulling work. Lately I’ve been toying with the idea of green asphalt or indoor-outdoor carpet. And who decided which ones are weeds and which ones are wildflowers anyway?

This coming weekend I’ll be “gardening” again – of course that just means pulling more weeds…

Peace,

Denis

Travis

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Today is my son-in-law Travis’s birthday. He’s a gem.

Not only is Travis a good husband and father, but he is a good man. And I love him, too. The way that he adores and treats Bess; the way he loves and protects Anna and Noah; the way he remembers to thank God for his blessings each day; makes me realize that I have the best son-in-law in the world.

Travis is always the first to step up and help out, regardless of the need. He brings tireless energy and fun to even the most mundane tasks. He is selfless and is totally committed to his family (I’m lucky to count myself among them). He is a devoted husband, father, son, and friend. He teaches Anna and Noah each day by his example, and I am thankful for his  love, patience, and gentleness toward them.

On the less admirable side: it turns out that Travis and I have a lot in common (which I think is funny; he might find it frightening) – bad puns, lame jokes, (some would say) annoying habits, the ‘need’ to be right about EVERYTHING, attention deficit disorder, laughing too loud at most times, innapropriate (again subjective) comments, and the lack of a brain filter – (it’s okay to think it but you shouldn’t always say it).

Anna, Bess, Travis, and Noah

Travis,

You are exactly the kind of husband I want for my daughter and you are exactly the kind of father I want for my grandchildren. Plus you are my friend and my son-in-law AND in that order. I can’t imagine life without you and all of the blessings that you have brought to our family. 

Happy Birthday!

May I Please Be Excused?

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“May I please be excused?” This is what my three year-old granddaughter is being taught to say before she can leave the dinner table.  Also being taught: “please” and “thank you” when appropriate. In addition she’s learning to say, “God bless you” when someone sneezes and “excuse me” for minor infractions such as burping or “tooting” (her word – not mine). Once when asked, “Anna, what are the magic words?” she responded, “Abra-cadabra?” So it’s a work in progress.

I love that her parents are teaching her manners. Deb and I taught our kids manners, too. And we tried to teach them courtesy and civility (sometimes the lessons needed repeating). The fact of the matter is that we wanted well-mannered children that would grow up and become well-mannered adults. And I think we succeeded.

But at times I’m afraid that success in learning how to be mannerly may equal failure in the overly aggressive, “me first” society in which we live. What a sad commentary. It seems that waiting your turn, holding a door (or elevator) for someone, saying “thank you” or “please”, respecting another’s personal space or privacy, or simply controlling the apparent need to “speak your mind” (even if your head is empty) has become passé. 

Is the only way to “get ahead” to “jump ahead”? Must we always put ourselves first? Do we really deserve what we want regardless of who we step on or over to get to it?

I hope not.

Little Miss Manners (and her Mommy)

I’m glad Anna is learning manners. And if it means she will “lose her place in line” because she is courteous or mannerly then it’s probably not a line that she would want to be in the first place.

I believe that she can be competitive and successful and smart and kind without being obnoxious, rude or boorish.

And yes Anna, thank you for asking; you may be excused!

Peace,

Denis

Joy

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This morning was my last day on the beach (for a while anyway) and I had some quiet time to reflect on life, sea shells, sand, that funny bump on my shin, how waves work, why I didn’t buy that other T-shirt at the outlet mall yesterday, what I was going to have for breakfast… I guess I’m not really a good ‘reflecter’ – I get too easily distracted.

Anyway, during my walk I was thinking about joy and happiness and how they are related but not necessarily dependent on one another. I’ve had happiness in my life that I wouldn’t consider joyful. I’ve been “happy” to see a rival fail at something or other but that  didn’t really bring lasting joy – just moment of “ha-ha, sucker” usually followed by guilt – thanks to an overdeveloped conscience AND a Catholic upbringing! But joy is transcendent. Joy is lasting. And joy can sustain us even through despair and sorrow.

This week I’ve been abundantly happy – vacation on the beach with my wife, daughter, son-in-law, and grandkids. We’ve shared love and laughter and made memories. It has been the kind of happiness that creates joy.

But this week has brought some sadness, too. 

Deb’s dear cousin Lareca passed away on Monday – Lareca was fun and funny; she was loved and loving. She left us too soon.

One of my colleagues and best friends at work was forced to “retire” early because of serious health issues this week. I will miss her desperately. We’ve worked together for over 10 years and even though I technically was her boss; she was my mentor. I have this huge void in my life to fill now both personally and professionally.

A few weeks ago a young woman that worked for me named Joy (oh, the irony) left to “pursue a better opportunity”. Joy was like a daughter to me; in fact I used to call her ‘tall Bess’ because her sense of humor and kindness reminded of my own sweet girl. I miss her at the office – even though I’m happy for her, I wish she was still with us.

My Aunt Gene’s Alzheimer’s is taking its toll on her (and our family). We’ve become friendly visitors in her increasingly murky world. It’s heartbreaking to see her quietly slip away.

Where’s the joy?

There is joy in knowing that Lareca’s husband and children and grandchildren can rest assured that she has joined her sisters and mother in heaven. And that now they have an angel smiling down on them.

There is the joy that I hold in my heart of 10 years with Betty and in knowing that her family will surround her with love and support.

There is the joy that is Joy. We will continue to stay in touch and someday when I’m in need of a job I’ll bet that I can call on a friend who just might take pity on an old man who will still have a few ‘good years’ left in him.

There is joy in knowing that Aunt Gene is in tender, caring hands. The nursing staff and the Sisters in her religious community will continue to lift her up in prayer even after she forgets the words herself. She has served God’s children for over 70 years as a Sister of  the Most Precious Blood and her life is an example of loving surrender and service to others. If that’s not joyful – well then, what is?

So yes – happiness can bring joy. I certainly found joy amidst my happiness this week. But we can find joy even in our despair. Because I have found it there,too.

Peace,

Denis

The older I get, something, something…

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I turned a year older this week – 56! The number doesn’t really bother me but the statistics do. So as with most unpleasantness, I choose to ignore the statisticians. I’ve been told that men my age are prone to heart disease, prostate cancer, midlife crisis, beer bellies, bald heads, erectile dysfunction, and host of other maladies that Zymbalta or some other wonder drug can cure but with frequent, painful and serious side effects. Oh joy!

The truth is that I feel pretty good most days. And (because I prefer to look at myself in the mirror without my bifocals on) I still look pretty good, too. So life goes on! Yes, the years tick by but I don’t care. I’ve decided to live life to the fullest (or as full as a 56 year-old can!) And currently I have no complaints.

I’m blessed; I know that I am. And upon reflection God (or my guardian angel) has had my back many times in this life of mine. I’m in love with my wife. I have three great kids and three beautiful grandkids. And we all have fun together. Especially the grandkids and me – which is what makes 56 tolerable and even fun most days. When I asked Anna, “Why am I such a lucky Pawpaw?” She exclaimed, “Because you’re MY Pawpaw!” How true; how true!

And of course turning a year older ALWAYS beats the alternative.

Birthday dinner with some of my favorite people

This week I’ve been able to celebrate my birthday on the beach in Florida and I’ve cherished every moment. Playing  in the sand or splashing in the pool with a 3-year old and an 8-month old makes a 56-year old forget (for a little while) about work, bills, the national debt, the likelihood that there won’t be social security when (or if) I retire, etc.,etc. The afternoon (obligatory) Margaritas help, too!

So bring on the birthday candles! I plan on running away to the beach again next year.  Fifty-seven be damned!

Peace,

Denis

I grow old, I grow old; I will wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled ~ T. S. Elliott

Mother, Wife, Daughter

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Tomorrow is Mother’s Day. And I’ve been thinking about what it means to a be a mother and wife and daughter ~ But more importantly what it means to be all three. Of course all women/girls are daughters; they’re born and they have mothers. And many women become wives and I suppose even more become mothers (who really needs a husband?).

I’m blessed to have all three in my life; my mother, my wife and my daughter. And each of them is in fact a mother, a wife and a daughter. They share much in common; these three women. The common thread is their love for our family.

Mom:

I love that you taught me how to pray and have faith in God.

Deb & Mom

I love that you love Dad (and he still adores you, too).

I love that all of us inherited your sense of humor (even though Dad thinks he’s the funny one).

I love that you always look pretty; I have always been so proud to be seen with you.

I love that you love Deb as much as your own daughter.

I love the example that you set for each of us to follow.

Deb:

I love that you are most giving, loving person that I have ever met.

I love that you are the most natural mother in the world ~ you knew instantly what Tyson needed when he was first placed in your arms ~ and you still do. Ditto for Bess and Blake.

I love that you have made whevever we’ve ‘hung our hat’ a home and filled it with your love.

I love that you’ve made me laugh everyday of our lives together (even though I’m the funny one).

I love that you are like a lioness when it comes to protecting your children and grandchildren.

I love that your beauty on the outside is ‘trumped’ by your beauty within.

I can’t imagine my life without you.

Bess:

I love that you are the best parts of your Mom and me (mostly your Mom).

Deb & Bess

 
I love that you married exactly the right guy for you (and for us!)
 
I love watching you “mother” Anna and Noah; you’ve got that natural thing that Mom’s got and the simple beauty of it breaks my heart (in a good way). 
 
I love that you love God and have instilled faith in Anna at such an early age.
 
I love that you’ve inherited Gram’s sense of humor (even though Travis thinks he’s the funny one!).
 
I love that you have always been the best daughter in the world (I’ve always felt sorry for all those other dads). And now you’re the best Mommy, too (ask Anna & Noah).
 

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you mothers out there. Remember none of us would be here without you!

Peace,

Denis 

National Day of Prayer

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Today marks the 60th anniversary of the ‘National Day of Prayer’.
According to the official website http://nationaldayofprayer.org: The mission of the National Day of Prayer Task Force is to mobilize prayer in America and to encourage personal repentance and righteousness in the culture.

The believer in me wants to embrace a ‘Day of Prayer’ but the cynic in me just can’t quite get past The National Day of Prayer Task Force.

Their website goes on to say:
(That) like Thanksgiving or Christmas, this day has become a national observance placed on all Hallmark calendars and observed annually across the nation. Really? Hallmark® calendars??? Well I guess that makes it official AND mandatory. After all, everyone knows that Hallmark® must be obeyed – otherwise there would be no Professional Assistants’ Day or Grandparents’ Day or “No, You Didn’t Win But You Were A Great Participant” Day.

I don’t mean to trivialize something that means so much to so many but I believe that they have done that to themselves by invoking Hallmark®.

I guess I felt a little better after I continued to read and found this on their webpage:
The National Day of Prayer belongs to all Americans. It is a day that transcends differences, bringing together citizens from all backgrounds.

Which reminds me of a joke –
There was a nun teaching a Kindergarten class. She asked the children what they wanted to be when they grew up. Sister asked the first little girl, “Patty, what would you like to be when you grow up?” Little Patty replied, “Sister when I grow up I want to be a doctor.” Sister replied, “Oh Patty, that’s wonderful. Doctors care for people and help them stay healthy and strong.” Then she asked little Tommy what he would like to be. He replied, “Sister, when I grow up I want to be a fireman.” “Oh Tommy, that’s wonderful, firefighters help save lives and property.” Sister then asked, “Mary, what would you like to be?” Little Mary replied very proudly, “Sister, when I grow up I want to be a prostitute!” With that, Sister grabbed her heart and fell faint to the floor. When she came to she asked, “Mary, WHAT DID YOU SAY that you want to be when you grow up?” Mary responded emphatically, “A prostitute, Sister!” With that, Sister responded, “Oh thank God! I thought you said Protestant!”

Okay, so now I’m the one being trivial.

But my point is this: Let’s pray that we can transcend our differences. Let’s build more bridges and fewer fences. Not just one day a year but everyday. I may be a Catholic but I can pray for Protestants (and not for their conversion). I can ask for their prayers, too. When my son was deployed to Iraq (the first time) my Evangelical friend was the one that held me in her arms and prayed for his protection and God’s mercy. One of my best friends is Jewish but I don’t feel a need to remind him that Jesus is my Savior. He knows what I believe AND he respects it. And I know that God holds him in the palm of His hand, too.

Prayer can be transcendent. But first we must remember that none of us has all the answers. We just need to surrender to God. And then let go…

Peace,

Denis