Author: Denis Wilhelm

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

Watching Time Fly

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My sweet boy!

Deb was holding our grandson Noah the other night and I walked up and asked, “Noah, do want to come to Pawpaw?” He put his little arms out toward me – it was wonderful!

Just over seven months ago he came into this world and now he has two teeth; he’s crawling; he likes to pull his sister’s hair and no one can make him laugh harder than she can; he’s a known earring snatcher; he can pull himself up into a sitting position; his ‘likes’ and ‘dislikes’ are CLEARLY known; and his personality has already been established – he’s a happy, sweet, curious, boy who is easily distracted AND doesn’t like big noises. (The being easily distracted and disliking big noises might be hereditary).

Lately I’ve been marveling at how much his big sister Anna has grown (okay maybe not in stature but certainly in intellect – besides we like petite in our family!) and everyday she seems to know something new. But Noah’s changes are equally amazing and every day or so he has accomplished a new feat. And their relationship is growing each day as well. From the start Anna made it clear that Noah was HER brother but now he seems to know that she’s HIS, too. Their interactions are something to behold – they already seem to have a special understanding that is uniquely their own.

All this ‘watching the grandkids grow’ business has got me thinking about how “time flies”. It seems like only yesterday that our kids were crawling and playing together and learning new things each day and now they have kids of their own. My Mom would tell you, “the older that you get, the faster time flies”. Wow! And now I know it’s true – I’m watching my life go whirring past at record speed. Part of me wants it to S L O W D O W N and another part of me is excited for the next phase; the next adventure; the next milestone.

Big Sister ~ Little Brother

So what can we do? Well, we can’t do anything about time. But we can do everything about how we spend (or mis-spend) it. I’m going to try (once again) to quiet myself and listen to God. I’m going to continue to exercise and eat right so that I can get down on the floor and play with Noah, Anna, and Charlise AND then hopefully be able to get up off the floor without assistance. I’m going to remind Debbie how much I love her and thank her for loving me, too. I will (try) to take time and be patient with my parents and in-laws (more prayer will be required for that one). I will try to be a better husband, father, brother and friend. I will try to be a better employee, boss and colleague. I will try to be a better citizen. And I will celebrate MY LIFE and whatever time God allows me to have here on this Earth.

In the meantime, I need to learn how to “crawl like an animal; not like a baby, Pawpaw!”. That was a recent request – so I guess I’ll be learning something new everyday, too.

Peace,
Denis

Telling Stories

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"Tell me a story..."

My granddaughters like stories. The three-year old likes to hear stories; the six-year old likes to tell stories. Charlise the (six-year old) tells some pretty fantastic tales. Her stories sometimes involve robots that live at her house or mythical beasts that she has encountered. A reoccurring theme in her stories has her winning a gold medal or trophy or some equally worthy award for some astounding feat of intelligence or strength or bravery. She often dwells in that land between reality and imagination that only six-year olds are allowed to inhabit – on occasion she lets me journey there with her, too.

Sometimes I get involved in the story-telling. I think that the best stories are the ones that everybody knows – we all realize that the ‘Big Bad Wolf’ won’t be able to blow down the house of bricks but the fun is in the anticipation of it all and his ultimate failure – take that you ‘Big Bad Wolves’ of the world! Anna (the three-year old) told me yesterday, “Pawpaw, stories are supposed to begin with Once upon a time…, and end with happily ever after…” I like her style. I think we’re all looking for the “happily ever after(s)”.

Family stories are my personal favorites; these too are the ones that everyone knows by heart but hearing (and re-telling) them keeps us connected to the past. We honor our family traditions; we remember; we give thanks. I believe they also help us define the future. No one can live forever but our stories (and the stories of our ancestors) can live on long after we’re gone. Those traditions, those memories can live on in future generations. It can become our legacy – telling our (their) stories.

Here is one of my favorites:

The Good Thief

Once upon a time, a young man left his family and home in Europe and came alone to America in the 1800’s. His intention was to work for one year, save his money and return to his home in Alsace-Loraine. He lived in a boarding house and shared a room with another immigrant. He found work as a day-laborer on a farm in Florissant, Missouri. Because he spoke no English and trusted no one, he kept what little money he earned under his mattress. As planned, after working for one year, he had saved enough money to return home. The night before he was planning to leave, while he was fast asleep, his roommate found his money. The next morning the young man awoke to find his money and his roommate gone! Of course he had no choice but to remain another year and try to recoup his losses. During that unplanned year he met a young girl and fell in love. He never returned to his home in Alsace-Loraine. He married the young girl, bought a farm in Florissant and raised a family there.
And they lived happily ever after…

That young man was my great-grandfather Wilhelm Moellering. Our family calls the roommate the “Good Thief” because, needless to say, if not for him none of us would be here today. We honor Wilhelm’s memory by telling his story (some if it may actually be true) and we remember to thank God for an unplanned event that changed the course of history – at least for one family.

So go tell your stories and listen to other peoples’ stories, too. And remember it’s more about the journey than the destination, although sometimes it’s fun to find out where you’ll end up – even if you already know.

Peace,

Denis

He is Risen, Indeed!

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Today the Alleluia returns! The bells will ring. The choirs will sing. Our salvation is secure.

Easter Sunday Mass is always exultant but of course there’s usually a bit of unplanned “entertainment”. That’s what you get when you stuff kids full of Easter candy, put them in itchy new clothes, pack them into an overcrowded church (if only every Sunday could be this well attended) and expect them to sit quietly for over an hour.

I for one LOVE the ‘carnival atmosphere’ of Easter Sunday services – My version of heaven is filled with wiggles, giggles, and jelly-bean breath.

WHY DO YOU SEARCH FOR THE LIVING AMONG THE DEAD?
HE IS NOT HERE. HE IS RISEN!

Have a joyous Easter!

Peace,

Denis

“Good Friday – what’s that?”

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Today our office is closing early. It’s Good Friday and the boss has decided to shut down early – more of an “Easter weekend” thing than a “Good Friday” thing but because I’m a Catholic Christian, and I view today as a day of solemnity, I appreciate the gesture. It will afford me some quiet time in prayer – always needed.

I know that many people in our world (and office) are not Christian and I support their right to freedom of (from) religion. But I’ll admit that I was shocked (a little) this morning when I went around informing the staff that we would be closing early. Here’s what I encountered: one staff member wanted to know why we would be leaving early. When I explained that today is Good Friday, she said “What’s that?” I was dumbfounded. This twenty-something had no idea what Good Friday was or what it meant or that Easter was this coming Sunday. I felt a certain amount of indignation!

Just to be clear – this young woman was born and raised in Saint Louis, Missouri; her parents are not first generation immigrants; English is not a second language; there is no obvious cultural or religious reason why she wouldn’t have at least a cursory understanding of what Good Friday is or Easter means. And yet for her there was complete and utter ignorance of this most important Christian holiday.

That got me thinking. How ignorant am I of other religions? How often do I assume that everyone is Christian or at least understands why my Christian observances are so important to me? Who am I to lord my Christianity over others? I believe that a message was sent to me today: be more tolerant; more accepting; less judgmental; more Christ-like. After all, Jesus gave us plenty of examples of reaching out to those considered “unworthy” during His time here on Earth. Remember the Samaritans? The woman at the well? Tax collectors?

So this Good Friday I will remember that we are all created in His image and I will pray that I am cured of my blindness and prejudice and can encounter Him everywhere that I journey in my life.

‘Lord, by your Cross and Resurrection you have redeemed the world’ – all of us.

(Not just middle-aged, white guys like me).

Peace,

Denis

Small Things

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The small voice on the phone says, “When are you coming home, Pawpaw?” “I miss you.” And suddenly everything else that seemed so important falls in place behind that tiny request. The idea of “home” rushes over me and I know (once again) what is truly important in my life. “I miss you, too”. And so much more…

The small things in my life are what define me; they give me hope; they bring me joy; they “carry me home”. So tonight I am reflecting on those small things.

Coming home to supper on the stove and having the aroma of a meal prepared with love fill my soul.
The way Deb always wraps her leg around mine when she’s sleeping that lets me know that I am where I am meant to be.
Finding something everyday to laugh about (usually at myself).
A call from one of my kids just checking in, always ended with an “I love you, too”.
Bedtime stories, songs and prayers with my grandkids (just like we use to do with our own kids).
A compliment freely given.
The kindness of a friend.
A hug.
A kiss.

Mother Teresa of Calcutta said, “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”

I like the idea of doing small things. Probably because I’m not capable of doing great things. But when I think about my life and what is most important to me it’s usually the small things. And I am blessed with a life that is filled with small things imbued with great love.

In Mitch Albom’s book “Have a Little Faith”, he recalls a conversation where he asks his Rabbi for the secret to happiness. The Rabbi’s response: “Be satisfied. Be grateful for what you have. For the love you receive. And for what God has given you.”

Satisfied. Grateful. Loved. Sounds like happiness to me. And yet, there are days when I forget (God, forgive me!) to be grateful. There are times when greed or avarice makes me completely dissatisfied with EVERYTHING with which I have been blessed. And on my darkest days I reject the love of others – too angry or proud or stubborn to accept even God’s love.

But then I get a glimpse of heaven ~ usually delivered when I least expect it. And I am reminded (once again) how precious the small things in my life truly are.

Wishing for a “small thing” to find its way to you today.

Peace,

Denis