Author: Denis Wilhelm

Water

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I love to travel.  I like to see new places and experience different cultures. I’ve been blessed with a job that allows me to travel.  I’ve been from ‘sea to shining sea’ here in the United States.  Plus our son lived in Germany for five years so we’ve had opportunities to travel to Europe a few times for pleasure, too.  This year I’ve been to China and Mexico and I’m planning to travel to Spain early next spring.  In two weeks I’ll be in Mexico City again and then on to Guadalajara.  The following week I’ll be in New York City.  All this travel feeds my soul.  I encounter culture and diversity with each trip.  And I gain an appreciation for the world outside of ‘my little universe’. 

Some of my favorite memories are those made while traveling.  Three years ago we were in London for Thanksgiving.  Our whole family made the trip – our sons, our daughter, our daughter-in-law, our son-in-law and our granddaughter Charlise (Anna was “in utero”) and Noah wasn’t even a glint in his Daddy’s eye at the time.  Eight people traveling together from Germany to London and back to Germany with one of them being a three year old presents some logistical challenges but we had a fantastic time.  The British Museum, Parliament, The Tower of London, and Buckingham Palace were among the highlights of our trip.  But for me one thing stands out and will remain as one of the most precious memories of my life. 

We toured Westminster Abbey.  For those of you that have been there or read about it, you know that this place is steeped in history.  I could have spent days there.  As it was, we spent several hours and all the while three year old Charlise was in her stroller and very content.  Now as amazing as the history of the place was for the adults you can imagine that from a three year old’s perspective it might have been dull – but she was an angel the entire time.  Parliament, Westminster Abbey and the River Thames are all within walking distance of one another so after we finally left the Abbey we decided to walk across the Thames.  I was pushing Charlise’s stroller and I could hear her speaking very excitedly.  I stopped; walked around the front of her stroller and bent down to ask her what it was that she wanted.  Her response: “Look Pawpaw, water!”  After spending hours in Westminster Abbey where her point of reference was everyone’s kneecaps (or rear-ends); she finally saw something that she could recognize – WATER. 

WATER!  How beautiful.  How simple.  How wonderful.  Charlise and I shared that moment for what seemed like a very long time.  We looked at the water together and for that special moment in time I felt like a three year old again.  It was exciting and I realized then and there that ancient artifacts and significant historical places (no matter how important) could never take the place of my granddaughter’s enthusiasm for that moment.  It was truly a ‘take time to smell the roses’ experience. 

So while I returned home with great souvenirs and great photos and great memories of majestic places, the one thing I will always treasure most is the time when Charlise and I looked at the water in The Thames.  You know, it could have been a creek at home but it doesn’t matter.  Because we were ‘in the moment’ and we saw WATER together! 

Try to find something that a three year old might appreciate.  And then indulge yourself.  You’ll be amazed at how beautiful the world is from that point of view. 

“Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” Mark 10:14

Peace,

Denis

Pets, Peeves, and Pet Peeves

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Pets:  My wife has two dogs.  A retarded (sorry – developmentally disabled) Maltese named Sophie and a Yorkshire terrier (terrorist) named Lulu.  I hate these dogs.  No wait – that’s not fair – hate is not a strong enough word.  Sophie the Maltese likes to run away on occasion – Run Sophie, run!  Where do you think that you’re going?  Would anyone else put up with you?  Doubtful.  Your only redeeming quality is that you are pitiful and you make others feel better about themselves by comparison.  Even the birds and rabbits in our backyard mock you. “Try to catch me, stupid dog”, they seem to taunt.  Lulu the terrorist likes to bark at me when I leave home EVERY MORNING.  Sort of like “get out of here!” or “never come back!”  Really Lulu???  Like I don’t despise you enough already.  Okay, the dogs do give Deb some company when I travel and when I had surgery last year Sophie laid by my side for days while I recovered.  And of course our granddaughters LOVE the dogs.  So as long as Charlise and Anna love them I guess they can remain.  But there are days…   I know that this makes me a DOG HATER and puts me in the same category as people like Hitler and Dick Cheney but I can live with that.

Peeves:  I try to keep my anger in check but sometimes it just sort of ‘bubbles over’.  This is an extremely busy time of year for our business – trying to get everything installed in stores before the Christmas retail push (thank God for the commercialization of Christ’s birth!).  Folks in the office are a little frantic and nerves are on edge so EVERYONE needs to take a collective deep breath and calm the hell down. No one is going to die if a shipment or installation is missed.  I repeat – NO ONE IS GOING TO DIE.  However someone might get fired.  Today I would like to fire nearly everyone that has crossed my path – it’s just one of those days.  Why is it that when things get busy; people get stupider – see even me (I know that stupider is not a word)?  Today we’re having a little ‘Pizza Party’ here in the office and even that is annoying me – please stop asking me if I will attend!  Of course I won’t – I will take my pizza into my office and eat alone.  Trust me you will all be happier that way.  Now get back to work!  We can’t miss any shipments or installs!

Pet Peeves: The following in no particular order is a list of some of my major pet peeves –

  • People who drive S L O W in the passing lane
  • Infomercials
  • Paid Political Advertisements
  • The hillbillies that live next door (and their barking dog)
  • People who invade my personal space
  • Brett Favre, Michael Vick, and Manny Ramirez – yuck!
  • The way the old creepy guy at the gym walks around naked in the locker room
  • Text speak – OMG LMAO
  • People (usually old) at the airport security checkpoint who hold up the line
  • Junk mail
  • Stupid made-up holidays like ‘Bosses Day’ or ‘Administrative Assistants Day’
  • Crap that’s left under my windshield wiper on a parking lot
  • Cranky old men
  • People who ALWAYS need to be the center of attention
  • People who can’t stop complaining about stuff

Wait a minute; those last three kind of sound like me…

I guess I should  just go home and pet our dogs – then EVERYTHING will be better.  Oh no, I’m worse off than I thought!

Peace,

Denis

Acting Like A Two Year Old

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Most Sundays my two year old granddaughter Anna is usually her wiggly-giggly self at Mass.  It’s not that she’s bad (in fact I find her immensely entertaining much to the dismay of her parents).  It’s just that she’s two!  She “reads” her books out loud.  Which means that she has memorized them and recites what she knows.  She just doesn’t use her ‘church voice’; she “reads” them OUT LOUD.  And she loves to climb on the kneelers; hang from the hymnal holder; and sometimes belly crawl under the pew in front of us.  Again – she’s only two.  And she’s adorable!  It’s not that she’s really that disruptive but she (we) gets looks of disapproval from her parents and sometimes even threats of THE DREADED TIME-OUT.  Depending on the celebrant, sometimes Mass seems like a ‘time-out’ to me anyway, but I digress…

This past Sunday Anna was especially “entertaining” and at one point I thought for sure she (we) was headed for a scolding.  But things calmed down and she (we) behaved herself. 

And then the most incredible thing happened.  Her one month old baby brother Noah let out the tiniest little squeak.  Not really a cry but more of chirp.  Anna bolted upright in the pew and asked, “Why is Daddy not taking Noah out to the car?”

Really???  Little Miss ‘Ants in Your Pants’, you’re questioning why Noah is not being removed from the building?  We all had to laugh at that!  And of course why wouldn’t she question it?  In her mind Noah was crying and should have to go to the car – period.  Her previous silliness was not the issue.

Later reflecting on what had happened at Mass it occurred to me that I frequently ‘act like a two year old’ myself.  Often I think that someone else should be dealt with severely for some offense or indiscretion.  If I was guilty of the same thing I would expect tolerance or understanding but if another were found culpable I would want justice – my idea of justice anyway.  It’s easy to fall into that trap.  I want someone else to pay for their sins but when it’s me then maybe what I did wasn’t so bad after all.  There’s that ‘two year old’ mentality. 

Noah - an angel without wings

I’m praying about this.  And with God’s help I’m going to try (again) to be more understanding of others.  I’m going to try (again) to be more tolerant of others.  I’m going to try (again) to be more forgiving of others.  And maybe when I’m the guilty one perhaps then I will deserve some understanding, tolerance, and forgiveness, too. 

In the meantime, I just hope that Noah doesn’t ‘act up’ in church any more.  Anna and I expect better of him.

Peace,

Denis

Spanglish

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Cuidad de Mexico

This year I’ve done quite a bit of work in Mexico City and Cancun.  And this winter we will be manufacturing, shipping and installing wall cases, racks, tables, mannequin platforms and other store fixtures for an additional 160 shops in Mexico.  Retail business is booming in Mexico.  Apparently when drug lords aren’t killing elected officials, one another or the occasional passerby they like to shop – who knew?

In addition to the work in Mexico, in early spring, I have another 120 shops scheduled for Spain. So I need to learn how to speak Spanish soon – well I would like to learn how to speak Spanish soon.  Here is my dilemma: I never got higher than a “C+” in high school Spanish and my current mastery of the language is limited to ordering a beer (una cerveza por favor) or asking for a bathroom (Donde esta el bano?)

Recently I purchased Rosetta Stone® with the hope of learning Spanish quickly.  I am learning but NOT QUICKLY.  Rosetta Stone’s whole premise is that it teaches you to speak a foreign language the way you learned how to speak your native language.  I think I was at least two years old before I could speak English, so I probably won’t be fluent in Espanol by January.

My written Spanish is poor at best and my reading ability is very limited.  But the hardest part is my understanding of native Spanish speakers!  Oh for the love of God -PLEASE SLOW DOWN!

Now I’ve been following Rosetta Stone’s lessons and I guess I’m making some progress but I have a meeting in Mexico City in about three weeks so I guess I’ll just be ordering beers and asking to use the bathroom a lot while I’m down there.

Someone suggested that I watch novelas on Univision® – they’re like soap operas but ‘las mujeres son muy sexy’!  I guess maybe you can teach an old ‘perro’ some new tricks!

Paz,

Denis

Speak My Mind(?)

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I feel like I’ve spent most of my life trying to be understood.  I am the youngest of three boys and my parents were probably just exhausted by the time I arrived on the scene.  So as long as I wasn’t crying I guess that everyone assumed I was just fine.  And the kind of attention that my brother Dean was getting (spankings and lectures) wasn’t really what I was looking for anyway.  So I learned to be quiet and ‘fly under the radar’.  Not always a bad idea.  But it’s hard to get your point across when you’re silent.

I remember raising my hand in class (until my arm was tired) at Saint Peter Elementary School, oh so many years ago, and rarely being called on.  I guess I wasn’t very good at getting the teachers’ attention either.  It really wasn’t until high school that I got much notice at school and it usually wasn’t the ‘good kind’.  It’s not that I didn’t have friends; I just wasn’t that interesting.  But when given the opportunity, I could speak articulately and most often get my point across.  I just needed (waited for) permission to speak. 

That has all changed.  And to me it seems like it was gradual but Deb thinks that I have ALWAYS spoken my mind and that I have ALWAYS made my point (I believe beat a dead horse is the expression that she uses).  But I know that it was her love and respect and approval that helped me to become the man that I am today.  She has given me confidence because she has listened to me when others didn’t (wouldn’t).  And she is the kindest of critics – gently suggesting that I might be wrong about some things (as if…).  And teaching me that you can be right and still not always be able to ‘get your point across’ if you are bombastic and obnoxious about it.  She has this innate ability to ‘win people over’.  It’s called gentle persuasion.  Unfortunately patience is required and I often lack that precious commodity.  Still I have learned from her and now I can state an opinion without alienating everyone in the room usually. Well maybe only sometimes. 

Debbie lives with the credo that “one should never discuss politics or religion” in social settings.  That doesn’t leave me much to talk about because those are my two favorite topics (after my grandchildren, of course).  So I often struggle through ‘polite conversation’ at dinner parties and such.  I’m certain that at times I appear aloof or bored but actually I’m just trying not to “speak my mind”.  I’ve literally bitten my tongue to keep from telling someone that they were completely asinine (my opinion) about something or other.  When I do try to make a point without using abusive language or questioning someone’s parentage I usually sound pretty unconvincing – so often I revert to my childhood inclination to remain silent.  I guess its enough to just know that I’m right and they’re wrong.  But at times I would like to “tell it like it is” however, trying to educate the entire world is just too much work.  And besides when someone asks for your opinion it seems to me that they really only want to hear what they believe anyway.

I’m a little anxious these days – with mid-term elections and the conservative back-lash in the Catholic Church I often feel alone in the wilderness.  Yet from time to time I need to “speak my mind”. 

So here goes: 

  • I think that our country is better off today with President Obama than we were with President Bush.  And I will work for his re-election in 2012. 
  • I believe that the policy of “Don’t Ask – Don’t Tell” is wrong and should be repealed. 
  • I support marriage for gays and lesbians. 
  • I am pro-life BUT that means ALL LIFE: not just unborn babies – capital punishment should be abolished. 
  • I am in favor of women’s ordination in the Catholic Church. 
  • I believe that the Catholic Church should have a married clergy as well – this is what I pray for when asked to pray for vocations. 
  • Oh, and those Tea Party Candidates scare the beejeezus out of me! 

But the next time I’m at a dinner party I’ll likely stick to talking about sports and the weather and my grandkids.  After that I’ll probably just look bored…

Peace,

Denis

Clarksville (Revisited)

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My sister Kay and I took Dad and Mom to Clarksville, Missouri yesterday.  It’s only about an hour north of where we live but it might as well have been on another planet – it was just not anyplace we ever visited.  My grandmother grew up in Clarksville.  And her parents. And her grandparents.  So for our Dad this place has significance but for me I only remember a sky-lift that operated there years ago that as a kid that I was too scared to ride.  My great-grandfather died long before I was born and my great-grandmother died when I was only seven.  As a child I only traveled to Clarksville once and I don’t know why; it was after Great-Grandmother Jenkins had died.  Maybe we went to visit her grave – I’m not sure, I only remember being scared of the sky-lift.  The sky-lift now sits still and rusted like some ghost from the past.  It hasn’t operated in years.  All that’s left in Clarksville for us are ghosts of the past. 

But for a long time Dad’s been talking about Clarksville and his visits there as a boy – Dad’s 84 years old now.  His memories are clear of his time spent in Clarksville and he loved his grandparents and they must have loved him, too.  All of his memories of Clarksville as a boy are happy and he cherishes the time he spent there.

Dad (and I) favor his granddad (my great-granddad) in appearance.  It’s strange to see photos of someone who you never knew but with whom you share a remarkable resemblance.  Here’s what I know about him:  Clarence Crockett Jenkins was the Post Master for Clarksville around 1910.  He was also the Town Constable or Sheriff for a while. He and his wife Augusta (Gussie) had two children: Kyra Kathleen (our grandmother) and Clarence Jr.  For some time they lived in a home that was at the base of ‘The Pinnacle’ – a mound of earth that enables spectacular views of the Mississippi River from its top.  Later the (now defunct) Clarksville Sky-lift was built on that site and their house was razed. 

Much has happened since the 1930’s when Dad spent time in Clarksville as a boy.  But  yesterday we got a chance to ‘walk back in time’ with him.  Clarksville today has some antique shops and there’s an art glass studio and a great little coffee-house but not much else.  We found the local cemetery but Dad couldn’t find the family plot.  We encountered another family at the cemetery and Dad (who has never met a stranger) explained that he was trying to find his grandparents’ graves.  Frances, the lady at the cemetery (she and Dad became fast friends) suggested we go back into town, hunt down the mayor and ask her to help us.  We did.  Or I should say, Dad did. 

He talked to every person in town he could find and while Mom and Kay and I were looking through some antique shops Dad had managed to locate Mayor Jo Anne Smiley who not only found the Jenkins/Gauding/Fielder Family plot on an old map but copied it for us and gave us directions.  This was on a Saturday.  City Hall was officially closed AND the Mayor’s position is voluntary – NO PAY.  Mayor Smiley you are my new hero! 

Needless to say, after visiting the few blocks of Clarksville that still exist we made our way back to the cemetery, found the gravesites and made Dad’s day.  Watching while Dad honored his grandparents and great-grandparents and great-great-grandparents, I imagined a little boy in the 1930’s holding his granddad’s hand and walking proudly through the small town of Clarksville.  I thought about the visits to the ‘Flower Show’ with his grandmother that earlier in the day Dad had told us about.  He claims he hated being dragged to those ‘Flower Shows’ as a boy but I suspect he traveled back there yesterday, too. 

Things have changed a lot in Clarksville in 80 years but much seems to have remained the same:  the kindness of strangers; the friendliness of folks on the street; the pride of community.  I’d like to think that my great-grandfather would have extended the same kindness to strangers as Mayor Smiley did.  Dad seems to believe he would have.  The stories he tells indicate that Great-Granddad Jenkins was a very honorable man.

I wonder if Mayor Smiley knows that she’s walking in the footsteps of former Post Master Clarence Crockett Jenkins? 

Walk proud Mayor, walk proud!

Peace,

Denis

Why I Hate Wii®

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We were recently given a Wii® game.  Our daughter and son-in-law thought that we could get more use out of it than they had.  The Wii® Sports is fun and pretty easy (the beginner level stuff, anyway).  I now have a Wii® mini-me.  He’s tall and slender with glasses and gray hair.  He seems very excited to try new Wii® things.  This morning I thought I (he) would try Wii® Fit. 

Now I hate Wii®.  Here’s why: It mocked me!  The Wii® “trainer” who started out as my friend actually mocked me!  First “he” checked my age, height and weight and was very complimentary.  Because of my excellent BMI my “trainer” suggested I begin with some balance exercises.  I figured that would be a cinch – WRONG!  Immediately soccer balls started coming at my head and I had to try to “head them” but then other things came at me (shoes and panda heads I think – it was all a blur!) and I was supposed to avoid that stuff.  Let me tell you it’s harder than it sounds.  Needless to say, I didn’t do well.  And my “trainer” (I call him Ivan now – as in ‘Ivan the Terrible’) kept telling me to “try again”.  “Okay Ivan, you get up on this board and YOU try to balance!” 

It went down hill from there.  Ivan actually asked me if I trip and fall down a lot?  What an a**hole!  But I did keep trying.  The next test was downhill skiing – another disaster.  Then I tried some stretching while “maintaining my balance” (in theory).  Again – horrific.  And all the while Ivan kept taunting me, “Try harder!” “Did you step off the balance board?” “That’s cheating!”  By then I had enough.  “Screw you, Ivan!”  My poor mini-me Denis look so dejected each time I (he) would fail.  He would literally (virtually?) cover his little eyes and hang his head after every miserable attempt.  I just couldn’t take anymore. 

And then, the final humiliation – my Wii® age:  68 years!  If I had any strength left, I would have thrown the Wii® out the window.  At least I got my heart rate up!  I guess I’ll stick to Wii® beginner bowling – at least my little Wii® Denis is very happy when he gets the occasional strike. 

Who knew ‘virtual life’ could be so cruel?  I guess reality’s not so bad after all.

Peace,

Denis

Here Comes The Bride

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Caprice and Jimmy

My niece Caprice is getting married in about 3 weeks.  It seems like only yesterday that she was my little “Pee Wee” perched on my lap.  But now she’s all grown up and ready to be a wife.  She’s had a wedding shower and a bachelorette party and all the preparations have been made – the church, the music, the reception, etc.  She and her fiance Jimmy are ready. 

Ready for the wedding day.  But are they ready for marriage?  Who knows?  Are any of us ever really ready?  I know that they are “IN LOVE” and I know that they have met with their minister and that she has “prepared them”.  But how much can you really “prepare” for marriage? 

I remember a 150 years ago when Deb and I got married and we met with Father Gary Goldaker at Trinity Episcopal Church and he asked us lots of questions and we gave him lots of answers.  And after no more than two meetings he then pronounced us “READY FOR MARRIAGE”.  Thank God we had all the answers back then because it has made married life so easy!  Of course a few years later we heard that Father Gary left the priesthood and was selling aluminum siding – so I guess our marriage has probably out-lasted some of that siding he sold (that stuff only has about a 25 year guarantee). 

Caprice and Jimmy are older and (smarter?) than we were in 1975.  And they have made good decisions up to this point so I’m guessing that they will have a marriage based on love and respect and equality.  I also know that they have a family that will always love and support and even “carry them” when necessary.  And if I could remember any of those answers from Gary Goldaker I would pass those on, too.

But now we’re all focused on THE WEDDING DAY.  THE BRIDE AND THE GROOM.  And that’s how it should be.  Serious marriage stuff has been dealt with already and their life together will continue to be an ongoing journey of faith and discovery.  Caprice and Jimmy have the rest of their lives to build their marriage.

So right now we’re looking forward to the Wedding Day and the party that is planned.  I’m always reminded that Jesus’ first public miracle was The Wedding Feast at Cana.  Even Jesus liked a good wedding reception.  So we’re going to celebrate on November 6th.  When Caprice comes down the aisle there will be smiles and tears (Deb cries at Hallmark® commercials) and once again I will have my faith in marriage renewed.  And later at the reception I’ll dance like nobody is watching because I’ll bet Jesus did that after ‘The Wine Thing’. 

Here comes the bride.  Everybody please rise!

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, it is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth.   It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Peace,

Denis

Look Who’s Six Years Old!

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Charlise

On 10/10/10 Charlise Clare Wilhelm will be six years old.  It’s hard to believe that we have a six year old granddaughter. Time flies!  It only seems like yesterday that we met our ‘Little Peanut’ and now here she is ready to be a big girl.  But not too fast – please!  She might be ready to be a big girl but Pawpaw still needs some time to catch up.

Charlise is in kindergarten – a big milestone.  She loves school and I’m certain her teacher loves her, too.   Her circle of influence is growing and her peers’ opinions are VERY IMPORTANT now.  She is similar to all other kids in her need to ‘fit in’ and I’m sure she will have more than her fair share of school friends.  She has a way of winning people over with her big smile.  She’s already a charmer at six!

This Saturday she is having a “bowling” birthday party and has invited everyone in her classroom.  It will fun to see her interact with her new friends.  I can already tell that she will be popular in school because she is such a loving and giving little girl.  She just has a way about her – so sweet, so nice, so Charlise!

Charlise and I have a lot fun being silly together.  We tease Nana and we laugh a lot.  We make funny noises and we chase around the house.  We play outside and hunt for wild chihuahuas in the backyard (one of our many ‘pretend’ games).  I guess when she gets older she will either remember this time fondly or laugh about it – either way; I’m okay.

As exciting as it is to see her grow up and become her own little person, I sometimes can’t help but reminisce about when she was born.  She arrived a month before she was due and only weighed 3-1/2 lbs.  I will never forget holding her for the first time and feeling like the luckiest man alive – I believe I still am!  But there are times when I really miss Baby Charlise.  When she spends the night at our house now she sleeps in THE BIG BED in the yellow bedroom.  But when I look in on her late at night and watch her sleeping and listen to her breathe I can still catch a glimpse of our sweet baby who was such a little peanut at birth.  She lies there in peaceful sleep and her face still has the innocence and purity of an angel – I’m certain (for me) that it will never go away.

Charlise is our first grandchild.  And being first gives her special status.  She was the first grandchild to capture my heart and she will hold it forever.  I know that God has blessed me and her name is Charlise.

Happy Birthday Peanut!

Love,

Pawpaw

Big Sisters ~ Little Brothers

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There’s a special relationship between big sisters and little brothers.  It seems that big sisters tend to “mother” their little brothers and little brothers often seek their big sister’s approval.  But it’s much more than that.  There’s a special love that they share that’s on a psychic or spiritual level.  I’ve been fortunate enough to have witnessed this dynamic between  big sister/little brother many times in my life.  God has blessed our family three-fold: my wife Deb and her “little brother” Brett; our daughter Bess and her “little brother” Blake; and now our granddaughter Anna and her “little brother” Noah.

This sister/brother love is life-long.  It is pure.  And it is unconditional.  What a gift God has bestowed on these sisters and brothers! 

I firmly believe that Debbie is such a good mother because she learned ‘how-to’ on Brett.  She was (and still is) in many ways his second mother.  I’ve seen how she can comfort him and I’ve witnessed her heartbreak when he has dealt with dissapointment or sadness in his life.  She celebrates his joys and supports him in all he does.  SHE IS HIS ROCK.  And I know too that Brett loves and cares for Deb equally and that they share a bond that is eternal. 

From the time that our son Blake was born, his “big sister” Bess has been his guardian angel.  She has protected him and cared for him from the start.  Their love is something that only they can truly know.  The rest of us can observe from the outside, but they seem to communicate on a level that is all their own.  Even though they are ‘grown-ups’ now, Bess still worries about her “little brother” and Blake still seems to need her approval (or maybe it’s her affirmation) from time to time.  When he was a little boy, she would comfort him if he was upset.  And often she was the ONLY ONE that he wanted when sad or hurt.  Blake was a freshman and Bess was a senior at the University of Wisconsin when Blake broke his jaw (there are some sketchy details on what actually caused the break).  Bess flew to his side, helping him when Deb and I couldn’t be there.  Of course, she wouldn’t have considered anything else.  And Blake has been ‘ON CALL’ when his niece and nephew were born – he needed constant updates as to how Bess was doing.  This “caring for one another” seems to be the cement that holds them together.

I see already how two-year-old Anna loves her “little brother”.  The night that he was born, while he was being “cleaned up” in the hospital nursery, Anna and her Daddy, and I watched outside the nursery window (Mommy was ‘being put back together’).  While we were witnessing Noah’s first few minutes of life, an old man that was a patient at the hospital was wheeled up to look at the babies.  He asked Anna if that was her baby brother and of course she said yes.  He then asked her if she thought he could get a baby brother, too.  Her reply: “Yes but not this one – he’s mine!”  In those first few moments, looking through the glass, she had claimed her “little brother”.  And as tears welled up in my eyes I could only imagine how special their life together will be.  Another big sister/little brother legacy was born.  And once more I was blessed for having witnessed it.

Peace,

Denis