Essay

Thirteen Children and then some…

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

When I tell people that my mom is the 12th of 13 children I usually get one of two responses. The first one (and most likely) is: Wow! Are you serious? The second response, which never ceases to amaze me, is often something along the lines of “my mom (or dad) was one of 14 (or 15 etc.)” or “I knew somebody that came from a family of fifteen (or twenty)”. You get the idea. Maybe it’s true but it always seems a little doubtful. I think some people like to ‘one-up’. I just smile and say, “Oh, that is a big family”. What I want to say is, “Well okay then you win” “Just for the record, it was never a contest!” “And besides, even if your family is bigger it’s not better than ours!”

Mom is now 82 and is one of the ‘little girls’ – her younger sister is 81. All six of her brothers have passed away and three of her sisters are gone now, too. She and my dad are the only couple left in her generation. Her surviving sisters are: two widows and a nun. She also has two widowed sisters-in-law. Being one of the youngest in a large family has many blessings but watching your siblings die one by one is extremely difficult. We have spent the last few years attending a succession of funerals. With each loss Mom confronts her own mortality again.

Yesterday was a happy family gathering: a reunion. The Moellering Family hadn’t had a reunion in 10 years (not counting aforementioned funerals) and Mom couldn’t have been happier. Seeing Mom with her sisters and nieces and nephews made me realize how much of a Moellering that I am, too. I love our family! I’m proud to be part of this clan. We of the 13 brothers and sisters! We of the produce farmer granddad! We of the three aunts that were nuns! We, this big messy Catholic family that sometimes drinks too much, cusses and fights but always forgives and loves one another deeply. We, this fiercely proud group of hardworking, hard-headed, half-French, half-German, Midwesterners.

We are family!

Families. It’s God way of ALWAYS reminding us who we are. We will touch the future through our children and grandchildren. We continue to honor the past with our memories of those that loved us into being. We possess a unique bond with our siblings and our cousins that no one else can share. We are family. We are loved. We are Moellering!

Peace,

Denis

We Remember…

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

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”…

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

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

May I Please Be Excused?

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

“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

Telling Stories

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

"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

Holy Week

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

I had a rare opportunity to begin Holy Week in Espana. I went to Mass at the Cathedral de Santa Maria la Real de La Almudena in Madrid yesterday for Domingo de las Palmas Misa. In English that means I went to the Cathedral in Madrid for Palm Sunday Mass. I love architecture and history and this place has both. It took over 100 years to build the cathedral. It’s adjacent to the Royal Palace. It is apparently built over a Moorish mosque that was destroyed in 1085. As early as the 1500’s plans were discussed for building a cathedral in Madrid. Construction didn’t actually begin until 1879 and due to the Spanish Civil War the project was abandoned until the 1950’s. The cathedral is very modern in European terms – Pope John Paul II dedicated it in 1993. It has a Neo-Gothic interior and Neo-Romanesque crypt. It is an amazing structure. The way the light filled the space seemed truly divine.
As beautiful as the building is, what actually made my experience so memorable was the excitement of the people. We began with a procession outdoors in the vast courtyard between the Royal Palace and the Cathedral. The clergy and dignitaries were carrying palms but most of us in attendance had bunches of olive branches mixed with Rosa Maria (rosemary). I suppose it’s fitting that we were waving olive branches in Spain; you see olive orchards from central Spain to the coast when traveling by train. The music was being broadcast outdoors and it filled the courtyard and beyond – all the way to Plaza de Espana. I felt as if I was being lifted up by the voices in the choir. The atmosphere was truly celebratory.

HOSANNA A NUESTRO REY! HOSANNA EN LAS ALTURAS!

Of course I was only able to understand a little of what was being said during Mass but because our Church is truly universal I knew that my friends and family were listening to the same Passion account in my parish at home. And I was able to understand many parts of the Mass (if not all of the words). It’s amazing this faith of us ours – ancient yet new; timeless yet present. I took tremendous joy today in knowing that millions of Catholics (and other Christians) were celebrating Christ’s triumphant journey into Jerusalem in much the same way. The fact that I was celebrating in Spanish made it all the more special. It made me realize that in French or German or Spanish or English; whatever language that faith-filled people speak the message is the same:

The crowds preceding him and those following
kept crying out and saying:
“Hosanna to the Son of David;
blessed is the he who comes in the name of the Lord;
hosanna in the highest.”

What I’m reminded of again this Holy Week is that Jesus died for our sins – it’s easy to think of our collective sinfulness and of Christ’s saving grace. What’s harder for me to wrap my head (and heart) around is the fact that He died for the sins I committed today and will likely commit tomorrow. His death and suffering was for you and me. He wasn’t crucified just for those who lived 2000 years ago. His sacrifice is as real today as it was on Calvary. How we embrace it and reconcile ourselves to His unconditional love is entirely up to us.

Wishing you each a peace-filled and blessed Holy Week. May you find the comfort this Easter Season that only our Savior can bring.

Peace,

Denis

‘Gnomeo and Juliet’ and What I’ve Given Up For Lent

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Last Saturday I took my two granddaughters to see “Gnomeo and Juliet” an animated re-telling of the Shakespeare classic (Shakespeare’s lead was named Romeo, but you get the idea). Anyway it’s a cute movie about star-crossed lovers that are actually garden gnomes featuring Elton John music. I enjoyed it as much as the girls plus there was a bit of a morality tale included – which is never a bad idea, especially in a kid’s movie.

What does this have to do with Lenten sacrifice? Let me explain. At the end of the movie Anna (the almost three-year old) asked, “Pawpaw, can we clap now?” My response, “Of course we can!” So the three of us sat there, while watching the closing credits, clapping and cheering. I must admit that we received some stares and some looks of bemusement by our fellow theater goers but I didn’t care because my girls were so delighted.

And there you have it. I’ve decided to ‘give up’ public decorum for Lent. If I feel like clapping and cheering for a movie that my granddaughters LOVED – I will. I am ‘giving up’ my social embarrassment or my need for conformity. Now some of you, that know me, are probably wondering when exactly have I ever held back or been worried about peer pressure or social norms? But the truth is that too often I have let courtesy or political correctness dictate my actions. I have sacrificed compassion for good manners. I have failed to offer or accept forgiveness because of embarrassment or awkwardness. And I have denied Christ publicly by not always behaving in a Christian manner.

But I have some great examples of how to live my faith life. My son-in-law Travis ALWAYS says grace before meals – even in restaurants – even in fast food joints! He has made me feel comfortable with doing likewise. When we begin by making the ‘Sign of the Cross’ sometimes heads turn but it reminds me how grateful I am to have such a faith-filled son-in-law who is setting an amazing example for my grandkids. My co-workers Kim, Rosemary, Sherry, and Michael ALWAYS bring Christ into our workplace. Their quiet example of love and devotion to God is model for all Christians. And I am honored to be in their presence. My wife, Deb is ALWAYS showing me how to live a Christ-like life. She will drop whatever she’s doing to help a friend or a stranger. She will hold your hand and cry with you or share a belly-laugh; if that’s what you need. And she’s never afraid to show public outrage at injustice or public displays of affection regardless of who may be watching. She loves completely – I wish that I had her compassion.

So this Lenten season I will be pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I will pray in public and try to love more openly and praise God in my word and in my deed. I may even hug some people (so beware).

And of course Anna, “We can clap now!”

Peace,

Denis

Rock Solid

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

“These are uncertain times we live in.” I’ve been hearing that a lot lately – the economy, the unrest in the Middle East and Libya and Egypt, the crazy governor of Wisconsin, exorbitant healthcare costs, unemployment, the housing crisis, the general moral decline of our society, etc., etc., etc.

And those things are all real and they do create uncertainty and anxiety. But are “the times we live in” any less certain than any other time in mankind’s history? I doubt it. I believe that because we are human and subjected to life (with all its good and bad) we will always feel some uncertainty. Perhaps if we don’t dwell on all the bad stuff maybe life will be a little easier to live. And I suppose it might be true that (a little) ignorance is (a little) bliss(ful). This reminds me of a joke:

There are 3 kinds of people – those that make things happen; those that watch things happen; and those that say, “What happened?”

I must admit that sometimes I fall squarely into that 3rd category. It’s not that I live my life with blinders on but there are times when I feel absolutely overwhelmed by the injustice in our world. There are those days when I feel so powerless to the suffering and heartache many in our society face that I want to bury my head in the sand. I don’t want to face the truth.

Recently in Madrid, at the Metro Station near my hotel, each day I encountered a woman begging. I just turned and walked away. I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes. I think that I was afraid that if I looked at her (really looked) that I might feel some compassion and give her money. What was my fear? Was she truly powerless and in great need or a scammer looking for a quick buck? I’ll never know because I walked away. And even if I had given her a few Euros I still wouldn’t have known. That’s what troubles me now – why did I need to know? Jesus doesn’t ask us to judge; he asks us to give. And sadly, in Spain, I chose to run away out of fear or ignorance!

But I have hope. I know that bad things will happen and that life will have its share of difficulties and disappointments but my trust is in Jesus. I believe that even through the crappy stuff He won’t abandon me. And even with my selfishness and lack of compassion He has offered forgiveness to me. It’s now my job to accept His forgiveness and promise to do better the next time. So I can either ignore my anxiety and fear or I can embrace it and “hand it over to God”.

Because even in these “uncertain times we live in” – Jesus is the ultimate certainty.

“Everyone who listens to these words of mine and acts on them will be like a wise man who built his house on rock.
The rain fell, the floods came, and the winds blew and buffeted the house. But it did not collapse; it had been set solidly on rock.”
Mt 7:24-25

Peace,

Denis

Listen To Your Mother

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Mom and me

After winning his Oscar for ‘The King’s Speech’ on Sunday night, Director Tom Hooper said, “My mum in 2007 was invited to a fringe theater reading of an unproduced, unrehearsed play.” He explained: “She’d never been invited to a play reading her entire life. She almost didn’t go because it didn’t sound exactly promising, but thank God she did.” She rang him up after and said, “Tom, I think I found your next film,” Then addressing his mother directly, he said: “So, with this tonight, I honor you and the moral of the story is; listen to your mother.”

That got me thinking about listening to my own mother. Mom’s been talking and I guess I’ve been listening for over 55 years now. But have I really acted upon her advice? Sometimes – maybe. Mom’s got lots of advice, such as:

“If you look better; you’ll feel better!” – The idea here is that if you’re sick (or near death) just dress up a little bit and everyone (including yourself) will ‘think’ you’re feeling just fine.

“Don’t worry about it; half the things you worry about won’t happen and other half won’t be as bad as you think!” – Unless of course it’s happening to her.

“Let’s not air our dirty linen in public!” – What in hell is our ‘dirty linen’? And why do we have to care what others think about it anyway?

“If you walk like a duck, and quack like a duck; people will think you’re a duck” What??? “Quack!”

Seriously though, my Mom means well (usually) and she loves me (always). And she might be a little crazy but she’s my kind of crazy. And I do listen but honestly sometimes I don’t really want to. Sorry Mom.

So to those of us who still have mothers: let’s take the time to listen – really listen. And to those of you that have lost your mothers: I believe that you can listen too. Your mom is still talking to you (and I’m sure that you can hear her in your heart).

And to all you mothers out there: even when you think that we’re not listening we are – especially when you think that we’re not listening!

Our moms give us life and I suppose that they just need to make certain that we cherish and make the most of it. Mothers have this profound (albeit sometimes frightening) influence on their children. How we choose to channel “our inner mother” is entirely up to us.

My own kids (well two of them anyway) listen to their mom and (I think for the most part) take her advice as well. Their relationship with her is one of mutual love and respect. They value her input and look forward to her involvement in their lives. But I’m certain that there must be times when they disregard what she has to say. So it’s not her fault that they’ll likely never win an Oscar.

If only they would listen…

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Blake, call your mother! (Sometimes you should listen to your father, too.)

My Lifetime Valentine

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment
Everything that she is ~ is everything that I need

Once upon a time in a far away land a young boy met a young girl and they fell deeply and desperately in love. They were young and he was poor and uneducated and many people thought that they would be doomed to live a life of despair. But the boy hoped to one day be worthy of her love by becoming the man she ALWAYS believed he could be. Years went by and their love grew and they were blessed with three beautiful children and three even more beautiful grandchildren. The man is no longer a boy but his love for the girl has never diminished or wavered. He’s still not sure if he’s become the man of her dreams but she remains forever his Lifetime Valentine and their love has survived the years, the tears; the good times and the bad. The man still believes that God has made them for each other and he is thankful each day for her love and devotion.

And they continue to live happily ever after…