Saint Isidore and Other Miraculous Interventions

Saint Isidore is considered by many in the Catholic Church to be the Patron Saint of Technology and the Internet. Which is interesting since he died in 636? I guess he wrote a bunch of stuff and people read it, therefore he was an information provider; hence the connection to the World Wide Web of information. Whatever the rationale, I am grateful for the internet and not opposed to praying for his intervention.

Having grandkids in America whilst we’re here in England is at times heartbreaking and has evoked more than a few tears – I miss you Charlise, Anna and Noah! But we have been blessed to have ‘Skyped’ and ‘Facetimed’ and talked each week (sometimes multiple times in one week). And I think of the generations that have gone before me that left home and family to build a new life or fight in foreign wars with little more than the hope of a letter from home. A letter that could take months to reach a loved one and months more to receive a reply. How they must have cherished those missives.

Even though technology makes leaps and bounds every day, the human heart and soul remains unchanged. We need one another. We need to love and be loved. And we are connected spiritually even if we’re not always connected physically or electronically. Don’t get me wrong – I love the Internet, e-mail, Wi-Fi, and all the other stuff that I don’t really understand the workings of (and don’t want to) but that I use daily. After all, I’m even able to post my blog and reach my friends, family and followers almost magically.

But it’s not just technology that keeps us connected. It’s the bond that we create with the ones that we love that allows us to feel their joy and their pain even when we’re worlds apart. It’s the shared experiences and memories that keep them in our hearts always.

“It has a spot on it”

I have a silly game (sort of) that I play with my granddaughters. It goes like this: If they’re wearing polka-dots, I will say “I like your shirt (pants, dress, etc.) but it has a spot on it!” – this is particularly funny when you’re a little girl who likes to indulge her grandfather. I always say it; and they always feign annoyance (their giggles giving away their true delight in our little joke). It’s just our thing.

Recently my younger granddaughter, Anna, asked her Daddy to pretend to be Pawpaw and to tell her that she had a spot on her shirt. That moment to me was better than any Skype or Facetime or Internet connection. It was Anna connecting to me and my son-in-law being generous enough to be my proxy in ‘our game’. So I think I’ll thank St. Joseph (the patron saint of fathers) for that intervention, too. And send hugs and kisses to Anna and Daddy Travis…

Peace,

Denis

A Scone By Any Other Name Would Taste As Sweet

One of our big concerns about moving across the pond was the food. To be honest, English food is not universally renowned. Oh, of course there’s Yorkshire pudding and fish and chips but beyond that most non-Brits can’t name a single English dish that they’ve ever eaten and enjoyed or more importantly ever ordered in a restaurant.

It turns out that we have been pleasantly surprised. Not only have we found some lovely pubs (for the record ‘pub’ is a misnomer – most pubs are more like casual restaurants that happen to sell ales) but we have also discovered some fabulous ‘green grocers’ (produce shops).  And the full-line grocery stores that we’ve shopped have great meat, dairy (especially cheeses) and bakery – not to mention the puddings!

Add to all of this the fact that Deb is a fantastic cook and there’s a very good chance that I will come home weighing an additional stone or two.

Last night at dinner we discussed the fact that we haven’t missed any foods from home. Not one – not once. Plus with the availability of inexpensive French and Italian wines we’ve been dining like royalty.

Much of the food here is the same as what we’re used to in the States. But there are notable exceptions:

  • Scones – scones here are not the giant Starbucks variety, which are often coated in sugar. Instead they are typically small, round, dense delights that sometimes have sultanas baked in but I think that the best ones are plain. Simply delicious with a cup of tea.
  • Carrots – carrots are small, sweet, and fresh. None of the little whittled-down type that are washed and ready to eat that we find at home (which seem to have been bleached of all germs and taste).
  • Beef – British beef is wonderfully marbled and red. Brits don’t seem to be afraid of a little fat (hence the concern about gaining an extra stone or two).
  • Chicken – It tastes like chicken from when I was a kid. Maybe it’s not raised in a ‘poultry factory’ over here.
  • Swedes – A root vegetable, that can be mashed, roasted, baked – always delicious.
  • Meat Pies – What can I say? See beef and chicken above.
  • Ginger Beer – A soft drink; like rootbeer but with an attitude.
  • Puddings – Actually all desserts are called puddings here but the real puddings; those delectable concoctions of sponge cake and warm sauce are a little slice of heaven. I love them all – Sticky Toffee, Chocolate, Caramel with Pecan Sauce. Yum, yum, yum!

So we’re eating well and learning to love some new foods along the way. I’ll continue to thank God for all the blessings on our table. Now if I could just master holding my fork in my left hand then I could dine like a proper Brit. 

Happy Eating!

Denis

In Her Heart

Our daughter Bess told us, that last Sunday when they were entering church for Mass, our  granddaughter Anna said, “Nana and Pawpaw are here!” Not wanting Anna to be upset upon realizing that we in fact were not there, Bess replied, “No Anna, remember Nana and Pawpaw are still in England.” Anna’s response, “Mommy, they’re here in my heart!”

Anna

So after we wiped away each other’s tears and clearly comprehended what we had heard, an overwhelming sense of calm and joy prevailed. “In her heart” is exactly where I want to be! What a gift, those words. What a prayer answered. My biggest concern about leaving home and family behind was that we might become strangers to our grandchildren – that the geographical distance would create an emotional distance as well.

All of that was put to rest with Anna’s simple statement – we are in her heart – and she is always in ours! I’m not certain how a three year old (she’ll be four at the end of March) can be so wise but I thank God for her wisdom and her spirit.

And wrapped up in her tiny heart is exactly where I want to be.

Jesus called the children to himself and said, “Let the children come to me and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.”  Luke 18:16

Peace,

Denis

Settling In

Family, friends and work associates from the States keep asking the same question. “Are you settling in?” I usually respond, “YES!” Of course we’re settling in – we’ve found our way to church, to the market, to the green grocer and to a few pubs. I can get to work now (most days) without taking the wrong round-about(s).

Deb makes our cottage a home

We initially had some challenges with housing. Our attached cottage (sort of like a townhouse apartment) needed repairs to the plumbing in the cloakroom (laundry), repairs to the shower which was leaking into the lounge (living room), a new bathroom subfloor and tile due to the leaking shower, an electrician to repair lights in the lounge (probably due to the water leaking through and shorting the circuitry), and some general maintenance (burned out lights, exhaust fans not working, etc.). And apparently some shingles had blown off the roof. Deb has handled all the contractors here and for her trouble and inconvenience was able to talk the landlord in to buying us a new bed. Tony (the landlord) and Carole his wife are now good friends with Deb. Carole has given us great recommendations for restaurants, day trips, theatre, museums, etc. And now that the repairs are done this really is a lovely place. So yes – we’re settling in.

Last Sunday we went to Mass at Saint Peter’s RC (Roman Catholic) Church in Cirencester. The RC is a very important distinction here in the United Kingdom; most churches are C of E (Church of England). And when someone mentions The Parish Church they don’t mean your parish – they mean the official Church of the county (or parish) – always C of E! (One more thing to learn.) Anyway at Mass last Sunday the lyrics of the communion hymn were something like “Leave your home; leave your family; follow Me, follow Me…” Deb and I were wiped out by this and we both fought back our tears. And I kept thinking that I followed my job here – not God! But this week a friend told me that God sometimes puts our feet on unfamiliar ground to remind us of what we take for granted. True, so true…

I sometimes dream that Charlise is coming for the weekend or that Anna and Noah are over for breakfast and then I wake up and stumble down the stairs to a quiet house – those are tough mornings. But most days are filled with new things; new adventures; new opportunities. And Deb and I have become even closer – in some ways it’s like we’re newlyweds again. Sharing this experience with my soul mate makes even the quiet mornings bearable.

So perhaps we didn’t leave our home to follow God to England, but as it turns out He was here waiting for us when we arrived.

Peace,

Denis

Oaksey Is Not London

My business cards say London, but I live in Oaksey, Wiltshire. Even my office doesn’t “live” in London. My office is in Swindon which is about an hour west of Heathrow (but Swindon doesn’t have much of a ring to it). Oaksey is about another half hour west of Swindon.

I’ve been to London several times and I love London but I’m truly much happier living out here in The Cotswolds. Because Swindon is to London what St. Charles is to St. Louis and Oaksey is like living in Defiance or Cottleville thirty years ago. So it’s more “my speed”. Quiet country living. Wide open spaces. The occasional sheep. Even so, all of this will still take some getting used to.

Today we had a little setback trying to get to Saint Peters Catholic Church in Cirencester for Mass. The road (the only one that I knew) was closed for repaving. We tried to figure another way around but we were unsuccessful and soon headed back to Oaksey (not necessarily on purpose). I’m sure God has already forgiven us – next week we’ll try again. This afternoon I walked around the village and was able to be with God in a special way – that’s sacrament, too.

Deb and I are learning new things each day – for instance  a trolley is a shopping cart. And the cashiers at the grocer aren’t all handicapped. They’re allowed to sit down to do their job. And you have to go up to the bar to order in most pubs – they’ll allow you to sit at a table but no one’s going to take your order. And a truck is a lorry. And signs that say “Give Way” mean yield. (And you should particularly “give way” when a lorry is speeding up to you on the right!). So much to learn!

Somehow knowing that the road narrows does not calm me down.

I’m very happy that we’ve landed in Oaksey and we will be able to learn at a slower pace out here in The Cotswolds (think boondocks) than if we were plunked in the middle of London. So we’ll keep exploring the countryside and the villages and each day will get easier and we’ll get smarter (or at least Deb will). Plus we can always take the train to London if we need some city life.

In the meantime we’ll just be known as the Americans in the grey VW Golf (so watch out!) Oh, I’m sure we’ll probably embarrass ourselves from time to time. We’ll likely say or do something that the locals will find amusing but that’s okay. We’re heading into our second week now and all is well (almost).

How long before I stop missing sweet Charlise, Anna and Noah kisses and hugs? Probably never (I hope).

Cheers,

Denis

Our Life Begins in England

It’s 4:00 a.m. in our new home in Wiltshire, England and we can’t sleep. The moon is bright and shining through  our bedroom window. There are no street lights or traffic noises of any kind out here in our little village of Oaksey. Who knew that peace and quiet could be so alarming? It’s just very quiet.

We arrived in London on Monday night and made our way out here to the Cotswolds yesterday. We’ll have a car later today and will no longer be dependent upon the kindness of Mark (my Director here in the U.K.) but I’m feeling a little ambivalent about assuming TOTAL driving responsibilities. Deb will have to learn to drive on the left side of the road, too. That way we can take turns driving and cursing. Bloody hell!

Almost too quiet (almost)

To do list: learn to drive; unpack; set up a bank account; figure out when to say “cheers” and “keen” and “fancy”; find our way around the local markets; drink tea; go to work (me not Deb – she’s got plenty to do at the house).

It’s a blessing that we have so much to do – less time to miss our family and friends back home. Plus e-mail, Skype, Face-time and Facebook brings us all closer together (at least virtually). Thank you God, for creating people smart enough to make all this technology possible. It makes the “being away” so much easier to bear.

Now, if you could just put a dimmer switch on that bright moon outside our bedroom window…

Peace,

Denis

Love and Marriage

Love and marriage. Go together like a horse and carriage? I think that’s the lyric.

Today is our wedding anniversary. And our love does go together with our marriage. We don’t have a horse or a carriage, but we have had 37 years of wedded bliss. I suppose some days are more blissful than others but altogether it’s been an incredible ride even without a horse and carriage. And we have been blessed in countless ways.

Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that I stood at the altar of Trinity Church and turned and watched as Debbie walked down the aisle on her father’s arm. The church was flooded with light on that January afternoon and as she approached me it appeared that the light was emanating from her. And that’s how each day since has been: she fills my life with light!

37 years ago we had no idea where we would be today. But if I could have dreamed this big back then, this is exactly what my dream would have been. This life. This wife. This family. This love.

For 37 years I have been married to the person that I love and respect more than anyone else in the world. Deb “gets me” and she makes me want to be a better person. And because of her I believe that I am. I would never have achieved any success in this life without her inspiration, love and support. And I’d like to think I’ve helped her along the way, too.

Deb,

Thanks for an amazing life. You are my heart and my soul.

Love,

Denis

Packing Boxes, Checklists, and Deadlines, Oh My!

There’s a lot to get done this week. The Week. The one before we leave for England. In my mind this week was going to be much easier. We had mapped out everything very carefully: Housing – check; Rental Car – check; Passports/Visas/International Drivers Licenses – check; Banking – check; Airline tickets – check. But now it’s here. The Week. The  Last One. And all of a sudden it all feels a little overwhelming.

We still have lots to do and taking time to blog isn’t helping get any of it done. But I just needed to clear my head and write a bit. Usually I take a few moments at the beginning of each new year to think about all the possibilities that lie ahead. This year even more so.

We will be living in the United Kingdom and hopefully we will be traveling all over Europe. Certainly we will be making a trip to Paris in April (already booked) and hope to see Rome in the summer or early autumn and perhaps a trip to Munich or Madrid (or both). Of course we will spend lots of time in London and the English countryside as well.

But packing for nearly a year and working out details here before we leave is exhausting. Plus the whole point of moving to England has to do with my job and those responsibilities have increased exponentially because now I am V.P. of Operations for North America and Europe. So this isn’t actually an extended vacation – no matter what some of my staff may think. I will be working and ‘watching them’ from across the pond.

A Pawpaw and his girls

Then there’s the emotional aspect – perhaps being busy with the packing and planning is a good thing. It gives me less time to think about how much I’m going to miss my children and grandchildren. This holiday season has been especially wonderful with Charlise and Anna and Noah around for extended periods of time. Last night while some adults were out partying, Nana Deb and I had a pajama party at our house. Noah scrubbed up and sweet-smelling happily went to his crib. After their baths, the girls and Deb and I watched “Madeline” (a family favorite). Deb made pancakes this morning before Mass and this afternoon we went to the indoor pool/water park. Later the whole family had dinner together which included Deb’s trademark black-eyed peas (there’s some superstitious hokum about needing to eat them for prosperity or good luck in the new year). All in all, it was a great New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day.

Rocking Noah to sleep in my arms last night I had ‘a moment’. And I got choked up today at the pool watching the girls splishing and splashing. But I’m determined to stay positive and not get too sad or overly emotional before we leave for England even though my heart is heavy.

I don’t why but this evening the girls doled extra bedtime kisses. It felt like a gift from heaven. Maybe my granddaughters knew that their Pawpaw needed a little something more tonight (or maybe it was just those damned black-eyed peas).

Peace,

Denis

Letting Go of Christmas Past…

For many of us Christmas carries a lot of baggage. Memories of Christmas, both good and bad, fill our hearts and influence how we celebrate today. Regardless of our beliefs, no other day of the year has the same amount of emotional punch as Christmas. We either find ourselves desperately and maniacally trying to live up to some ideal picture perfect Christmas – think Norman Rockwell, The Waltons (not the Wal-Mart ones), or “It’s A Wonderful Life” or we plunge into depression because we know that our ideal Christmas can never really happen.

Early Christmas disenchantment - circa 1956

Whether Jesus is your Savior or Christmas is just time of goodwill for you, it likely doesn’t diminish the significance of your memories of Christmases past. And the struggle to get past our bad ones or relive our good ones seems to be endless. There’s no shortage of disillusionment, heartache, and sadness in this world; so why not wrap some up for Christmas? My bitterness about a Christmas (long ago) that I didn’t get the gift that I really wanted or the year that someone was unkind to me or the time that I wasn’t invited to a party (or was forced to sit on Santa’s lap) can jusifiy my indignagtion. But holding on to anger, resentment and sorrow from years gone-by just poisons my ability to live joyfully now.

Perhaps this year is the year to let go of grudges or hurt feelings or regrets that overshadow my enjoyment of the holidays. Are my bad Christmas memories really worth all the hard feelings and self-pity? We say “peace on earth and goodwill to all” but often I only want peace and goodwill to me – I think it’s about time that I let go of my selfishness.

Last night my seven year-old granddaughter helped put it all in perspective for me. We attended an Advent Novena at a nearby convent. Standing there in the candle-lit chapel, hearing the sisters begin to sing, Charlise leaned over to me and said, “Pawpaw, I think I’m going to cry.” When I asked why, she said, “Because it’s so beautiful!” And we were wrapped up in that moment – a moment so beautiful it brought us both to tears.

This year the house may not be clean enough and the children may not be well-behaved and the food may not be perfect and the gifts may not delight but Christmas will come anyway. So I’ve decided to sing “Let It Go, Let It Go, Let It Go!” and get over any disappointments along the way. And I will be merry this Christmas because I have so many blessings for which to be thankful.

This year I already have a happy Christmas memory. An angel named Charlise brought it to me last night!

Peace,

Denis

That’s Mr. Cranky Pants To You!

Some days are better than others. Today is one of the “others”. Bad night of sleep. Lousy weather. I have a crick in my neck. I have employee evaluations to complete. And I have an appointment to see my dermatologist (who for the record has no bedside manner; although I don’t why you’d have to be in bed to see a dermatologist).

And it’s Christmas! Well, it’s Christmas on T.V. and at the mall, and on the radio endlessly, and at work – another boatload of sweet treats and fatty delights was just delivered here. And I swear some of my co-workers would eat dirt on a cracker if it were free. So I’m a little cranky today and I should probably just stay in my office so no one gets hurt. But for the love of God, will someone please stop draining the coffee urn without brewing another pot of coffee! Is that too much to ask? Because it’s Christmas and I’m supposed to be cheerful and I can’t do that without some caffeine. I’m begging you! Just one cup of coffee…

Deep cleansing breath. Deep cleansing breath. Go to a happy place. Go to a happy place. I try so hard to not be a curmudgeon but sometimes it feels as if the cards have been stacked against me. I’m really a lovely person (once you get to know me) but even lovely people can have crummy days now and again.

I admit it. I’m running a little low on patience, compassion, and give-a-shit-ness today. And I don’t care if that’s not a word either. I’ve received three calls on my cell phone this morning from someone who says each time, “hold on I’ve got the wrong number”. What am I supposed to “hold on” for (to)? Is this some kind of elaborate joke or some vicious conspiracy to slowly drive me mad? It’s working!

For the record I would like to just wallow in my self-pity and embrace my contemptuousness and be left alone (WHY CAN’T THEY LEAVE ME ALONE?). And the idiots on the road this morning (no doubt singing along with “Have A Holly Jolly Christmas” blaring from the ALL CHRISTMAS radio station) were particularly annoying in their inability to get out of my way! Not too mention the eternal roadwork on the Expressway exit near my office which is a daily thorn in my side. Poor me!

Tomorrow will likely be a better day. And I will likely be in a better mood. But today the forecast is cranky with a good chance of crabby. So brew another pot of coffee and steer clear of Cranky Pants!

Oh and Merry (almost) Christmas!

Peace,

Denis

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJxi0zCdGEY