This month our grandson Noah will begin kindergarten.
To me he seems wise beyond his years. He believes in God and prays often, albeit sometimes in a slightly selfish 5 year-old way (as do many adults that I know). He deeply cares about others, especially his big sister and his mommy and daddy. Noah’s interests are varied. He loves the outdoors. He plays baseball and soccer. He likes to swim. He likes to climb, jump and run. He also loves playing with Legos and Play-Doh, watching movies, playing board games. He has a very active imagination. He likes books but more than that, he loves hearing stories, especially if I tell him stories about when I was a boy (sometimes they’re even true). Noah loves music and loves to dance. And he laughs – huge belly laughs. He is fun and funny. We call him “Life’s-a-Party-Noah” for good reason. He is physically demonstrative and will gladly throw his arms around this old man and give me a huge kiss on the cheek. It doesn’t matter who may be watching. He loves me. And of course I love him!

Noah modeling his new school uniform
And so he begins a new chapter in his young life – Formal Education. From this day forward everything will be on his PERMANENT RECORD. I know that Noah will approach school with he same tenacity and aplomb that he tackles everything else. He’s a good team player and is easily coached so I suspect that the order and discipline required in school won’t be too challenging for him. Plus he loves to learn new things. And he’s kind. So he will be good to his classmates and teachers. And there can never be too much kindness in our world. Noah will surely do well with school.
But here’s the thing: Will school do well with Noah? Will his enthusiasm and joyful spirit be enhanced or stifled? Will his teachers expose him to new experiences and new ideas that fill his heart and stretch his mind or will he become bored and restless because of conformity and rote learning? Of most concern to this grandfather is whether or not his spirit will be allowed to soar. Noah has so much to offer and I’m convinced that he will change our world. He’s already changed mine.
I want the universe to open up for him in ways he can’t yet imagine. I want his achievements to be as boundless as his dreams. I want him to travel the world; read and study and explore; make a difference; discover his best self; love and be loved beyond measure. And I hope that someday he is blessed with a boy of his own who will fill his life with light and love.
I suppose that this is a lot to place on the small shoulders of a kindergartener. But hey, it’s Noah!
And I can always tell him a story about when I was in kindergarten…
Peace,
Denis
P.S. Noah, Always stay humble and kind…
He recently left for a one-year, unaccompanied, remote assignment. Which means that he’s far away from home and his wife and daughters are left behind. Of course, there are worse jobs and there are tougher and more dangerous assignments but this is our son and it’s personal. And I’m feeling a little melancholy.
Last week our newest granddaughter Gwendolyn Elizabeth was baptized. Our good friend Deacon Gary baptized her; as he has baptized our four other grandchildren. It was beautiful celebration of God’s love for us. I was reminded (once again) that Baptism isn’t just for the baby being Christened but for the entire family gathered to experience the sacrament. We all renewed our faith and promised to help Gwen in her spiritual journey. As Gary so eloquently pointed out, Gwen really had no idea what was happening to her but our love and support would give her a foundation on which to build a life-long relationship with God. So with parents and siblings and Godparents and grandparents and great-grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and friends, Gwen was welcomed into a new life in Christ. And we were all blessed.
Baptism doesn’t end with the sacrament. This will be the beginning of Gwen’s life as a disciple of Christ. She was presented for Baptism but her parents and Godparents will bear the responsibility for her formation. We will all support their efforts in raising her as a Christian but ultimately she will have to choose to accept her faith as an adult.
Right now we need more love in this world. Sadly the tragedy in Orlando has created a swirl of political debate about gun control, terrorism, radical Islamism, LGBT rights, and police response. Whereas I firmly believe in a ban on all assault weapons and I abhor terrorism and violence of all kinds, I believe we may be missing the point. The fact remains that 49 people were massacred and an additional 53 people were injured, some critically. How does so much hate; so much rage fill someone’s heart? And as a society are we partially to blame? Have we developed such a cavalier attitude in our nation toward gun violence that we can just accept the fact that these people were an unfortunate casualty? Surely not.
When our first granddaughter was born I didn’t know that one tiny little creature could possess such transformative powers. But she changed my life forever. She made me realize in so many ways that life is worth living and that our world needs more love, especially the kind that little girls bring. Maurice Chevalier sang “Thank Heaven for Little Girls” and I do. I thank God each day for my beautiful granddaughters. They are kind, brave, smart, and loving little girls. Someday they will become women who are kind, brave, smart and loving. And they will make our world a better place. These granddaughters of mine might do great things. These granddaughters of mine might create new inventions, cure diseases, save the environment, create peace in our world, and be remembered throughout all of history as heroines. None of that matters to me because they are already my heroes. Their joy fills my soul.
Growing up in the Midwest, my world was pretty small. Growing up Catholic and attending parochial schools made my world even smaller. To say that my life was insular is an understatement. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know more – I just didn’t know anything else. Everyone that I knew had a mom and a dad; went to mass on Sunday; lived in a modest house; played in one another’s backyards; had a crucifix and pictures of President Kennedy and Pope John XXIII somewhere in their home; and were mostly happy (at least on the outside). I’m glad that I grew up and out and away from that life but I still remember my childhood with nostalgia. Some things haven’t changed but many things have. I believe that I have.
In 1947 an 18 year-old girl named Dot and an (almost) 21 year-old guy named George tied the knot. He having recently completed his stint with the Navy in World War II and she fresh off the farm, these two kids met in August of 1946 and were married the following spring. For him it was love at first sight. For her it took a little convincing but not too much.
I am blessed to be equal parts of both of them. I’d like to think that I’m the best parts of both of them. I know that I have Dad’s ears and chin and forehead and well, pretty much everything else. But the important parts are less about physical attributes and genetics and more about what has been imparted. Mom taught me how to pray. Dad taught me how to tell a good joke. Mom taught me the importance of cleanliness. Dad taught me the importance of family. Mom taught me how to do math in my head. Dad taught me how to build and fix things (and how to cuss when things don’t build or fix easily). Mom taught me that “early risers” get to enjoy the best part of the day. Dad taught me that watching old movies late at night can be just as rewarding. They both taught me how to love.