Things I’ve Done for Money

I started working as a kid. I had a newspaper route when I was 12 or 13 years-old. I rode my bicycle and threw newspapers, ideally on to front porches, but more often into shrubberies or the occasional gutter. I think I earned about $30.00 a month and because this was a daily paper, I suppose I was making about $1.00 a day. I had several other part-time jobs while in high school which according to my parents would build character and net some savings. No real savings were ever realized and as for the character, well let’s just say that I met a few characters along the way.

As an adult, I’ve had some less than stellar jobs but the absolute worst job was as the T.V. man at our local hospital. Deb and I had just had our second child and her part-time job became more part-time. Because we had a new baby and a not quite two year-old I decided to take a second job and work a few evenings a week to make some additional money. I found a job in the ‘Help-Wanted’ ads and the “no experience necessary but a clean appearance and a good personality, a plus” seemed tailor-made for me.

Because our local Catholic hospital didn’t have the funds to equip rooms with televisions, there was a company that provided this service for a fee. My job was to “sell” television to the patients. Let me explain: for $2.00 a night I would turn the television on in the patient’s room with a special key. It was the 1980’s and this was not cable television just the 4 or 5 local channels. Maybe 6 channels if you counted UHF. The lady that owned the television business was scary (think Cruella Deville) and because this was a CASH ONLY business I was responsible for any shortages which would ultimately be deducted from my paltry paycheck. Further humiliation resulted from the gold blazer that I was forced to wear which was 2 sizes too big. This blazer made me look a theater page but identified me as THE T.V. GUY. Many of my customers in fact looked forward to seeing me. I suppose recovering alone in the hospital without your soap operas or “Price Is Right” or “Dallas” would have been a struggle. Of course there were some sad nights, like when someone didn’t have the $2.00 and my ‘magic key’ would have to darken their room. Or any night in the ‘Psych’ ward. Truth be told, I sometimes turned on T.V.’s for folks that couldn’t afford the fee.

HumilityBecause this was the local hospital in my hometown, I often encountered people who I knew. Trying to explain why I had sunk to such a lowly position in life could be quite humiliating. One particularly awkward evening was when I encountered my best friend’s wife in labor. The ‘fathers-to-be’ were always good customers – they looked forward to any distraction from the business at hand. I will always remember the night my best friend’s son was born with a smile. My friend and his son are now both in heaven. I pray that they remember that night with a smile as well.

I only kept that job for a few months. We figured out how to better manage our meager incomes, and I got to spend more time with our little boy and our infant daughter. Thinking back, I believe that the greatest benefit of that job was the lesson in humility that I learned. Certainly we needed the money but that was soon gone. The lesson in humility remains to this day.

Peace,

Denis

This Week…

This week my wife and I took care of our five year-old granddaughter Anna and our three year-old grandson Noah while our daughter and son-in-law were vacationing in Jamaica. It’s been lots of fun. But we’re a little tired.

In some ways it was like any other sleepover that they’ve had with us. What made this week unique was, well it was a week.

Snow DayWe had to get Anna to school each day and because she attends a parochial school that means drop-off and pick-up each day. Noah had his Little Gym® class on Tuesday and Anna had a dance class on Thursday. She also attended a birthday “indoor pool” party last weekend which required that each child bring a responsible adult. In between there were school lunches to be made, special dinners (featuring kid-approved menus) to be prepared, loads of laundry, homework to be completed, art projects and Play-Doh®, bath time and bed time (complete with stories to be read and prayers to be said). Throw in a “snow day” and we’ve had a pretty full week.

In fairness, Deb did most of the work while I escaped to my office. I did handle drop-off each morning and joined in with bath time, story time and prayers every night and of course playing in the snow was my job, too. And because we couldn’t locate a responsible adult, I attended the swimming birthday party (or is it a birthday swimming party?).

Anyway, I learned three important things this week:

  1. There’s a reason God gives us our children when we’re young.
  2. Even a plain sugar cookie is an “extra special dessert” when you add a shot of Reddi-Whip® and a dash of sprinkles.
  3. And hearing “I love you, Pawpaw” is the sweetest sound in the whole wide world.

Having Anna and Noah for a week reminded me how much work it was and how much fun we had raising our own three kids. And now I just need a little nap…

Peace,

Denis

And Still He Comes…

As Christmases go, I’ve had better ones. Granddaughter Anna got sick on Christmas Eve which ended the celebration early for her and little brother Noah and her parents. As Anna and Noah were whisked away my heart ached for them (and me). No five year-old wants to be sick on Christmas; no grandfather wants to see his little angel sad on Christmas Eve.

Moments earlier I had received a message that my wife’s cousin had lost her battle with cancer. I decided that I would wait until later to gently break that sad news to Deb. And just the day before we had received word that our friends’ Dad had passed away.

This was not the Christmas that I had planned. I HAD PLANNED? Therein lies the absurdity. Once again I was reminded that I am not in charge. All the planning, all the hoping, all the deliberation about this gift or that, what food to prepare, what to wear, seemed silly when I finally put everything in perspective. Because still He comes.

Jesus comes amidst our joy and sorrow; our triumphs and disappointments. He comes to be with us. God is with us.

Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel, which means “God is with us.” Matthew 1:23

We learned later that our friends’ family shared their traditional Christmas Eve gathering in honor of their Dad. Deb’s cousin’s family gathered together as well – first at the hospital and then at home; embracing one another and carrying on as Mom would have wanted.

Charlise Anna Noah AinsleyAnd Anna? Well she felt a little puny on Christmas Day but I believe that Santa lifted her spirits. And yesterday she was able to exchange gifts and share hugs and giggles with her cousins and little brother. Her upset belly seemed to be a distant memory.

This Christmas, even in our sorrow and in our loss, we have so much for which to be thankful – the love of friends and family; the joy of children in our midst.  

And in it and through it all, still He comes…

Peace,

Denis

Rejoice, rejoice!

Rejoice, rejoice; Emmanuel shall come to thee O Israel!

RejoiceIt’s the third week of Advent and we light our pink candle. Our focus this week is on hopefulness and joyful anticipation. We still wait but without sadness or despair. Instead we know that Christ’s coming is near.

In this family joyful anticipation is resounding! Our three year-old grandson Noah knows that Christmas is coming. Last night he showed me that Jesus is already in his Fisher-Price Little People® nativity but he explained, “He’s not in the real one until Christmas; we just have to wait!”

Noah is our little Isaiah; reminding us about the coming Christ – Emmanuel. We can be excited but we must wait.

The desert and the parched land will exult;
the steppe will rejoice and bloom.
They will bloom with abundant flowers,
and rejoice with joyful song. Isaiah 35:1-2

Of course there is much more joyful anticipation in our home; our two month-old granddaughter Ainsley is coming for a visit this weekend (and bringing her parents along). Nine year-old Charlise and five year-old Anna and of course three year-old Noah will be joining in the Christmas celebrations next week! There will be family gatherings and gift-giving and wonderful food and music and laughter and in the center of it all will be the Baby Jesus safely tucked in his crèche.

So we wait. And we prepare. And Christmas comes again; in our home and in our hearts.

O come, Desire of nations, bind in one the hearts of all humankind; Bid thou our sad divisions cease, And be thyself our Prince of Peace.

Peace,

Denis

Thankful

Yesterday our granddaughter Anna brought home a worksheet from Kindergarten. It had a picture of pumpkins and a turkey which she carefully colored and a ‘fill-in-the-blank’ that stated:

thanful for NoahNoah is Anna’s 3-year-old little brother. At times he can be a pest. He will sometimes destroy a work of art or un-puzzle a puzzle or disrupt a tea party or throw a baby doll across the room or otherwise torment her. His behavior will likely produce a shrill “Noah!” But Anna loves Noah and Noah loves Anna. And she readily forgives him.

This love that they share is fostered in the love that their parents have for one another. Caring for each other is what my daughter and son-in-law do; it’s what my son and daughter-in-law do; what they model; what they teach. And the lesson is being learned. Loving parents create loving children. And somehow I think that Deb and I started this love fest.

I am thankful, too! Not just for Anna and Noah but for parents that are teaching their children to love one another. Thankful for forgiveness and second chances. Thankful for constant reminders that this life is precious, and we are gifts to one another. Thankful that childish squabbles and petty differences can be resolved when we remember that our love for one another triumphs over all. Thankful that anger and resentment will cease when we forgive those who have wronged us (and when we forgive ourselves, too).

I am humbled by the profound and simple love that Anna and Noah share. For me they reflect God’s grace and beauty. To me they are examples of what is to come in heaven.

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Love! Joy! Peace!

The challenge for me of course is loving and forgiving my brothers and sisters. Not just my siblings – that’s easy. But this belief in God is troublesome. If we are all God’s children, then we are all sisters and brothers. Ugh! That means that I have to love and forgive all the jerks and losers in my life. Not only that, but I have to love and forgive all the jerks and losers in all of creation! I suppose I could begin by not referring to them as jerks and losers. And of course, I desperately need to receive some love and forgiveness, too.

So, this Thanksgiving I will thank God for the honor of witnessing the love between a five-year-old sister and her three-year-old brother. I’ll try to learn from their beautiful example and attempt to be thankful for EVERYONE. And I will thank God for the forgiveness received when I mostly fail. I suppose I might learn to love someone previously deemed unworthy of my affection. Or better yet I might be loved by someone who finds me unlovable.

I’m happy to take my miracles in small doses…

Peace,

Denis

Hope For The Future

I had a friend who used to say, “Babies are a great way to start people.”

And it’s true. I don’t think anyone would be excited to bring home a bouncing baby adult. No one would consider a snarky teenager their bundle of joy. There is nothing precious or particularly sweet about a menopausal woman or cranky middle-aged man, no matter how much pink or powder blue they’re swaddled in.

So starting humans out as babies is our best hope for the future of humankind. We fall in love with those adorable, helpless, innocent beings and then we’re hooked for life. Sometimes as parents (on the darkest days of teenage drama) we look back on memories of our babies and remember why we loved them so much in the first place. And we carry on (and so do they). According to a recent study published in Frontiers in Psychology scientists have discovered that the scent of a newborn baby taps right into the pleasure centers of a woman’s brain. So women are programmed to love their newborns (even the ones that cry a lot). I think this sweet baby smell-thing works on dads, too. I’m not a scientist but I can tell you that it worked on me. After all these years I can still remember the smell of our babies. And if I sit quietly for a moment and concentrate, I can still feel their tiny hearts beating against mine. The joy of holding a newborn is simple and profound and truly spiritual. Confirmation of God’s love for us and acknowledgement that we should continue.

AinsleySo it’s with great joy that our new granddaughter Ainsley joins the human race and brings hope for our future. She is already loved and she will undoubtedly fill the world with joy. She may do great things some day but none will be more special than the day that she was born. She is God’s proof that life is worth living and that our world needs more love. We will cherish her and in return she will give us happy days and peaceful nights. We will cheer her and in return she will give us hugs and kisses and good wishes. We will carry her and someday she will gently hold our old hands and steady us as we walk beside her.

We will give her love and she will give us hope. And she will be a constant reminder that God hasn’t given up on us yet.

Peace,

Denis

Kindergarten and Beyond…

Granddaughter Anna started Kindergarten this week. It’s one of life’s big milestones, like  first steps or first words. But Kindergarten is more than just a milestone, it’s about education. It’s the door to knowledge and adventure and socialization and community. Certainly Anna’s education began the day she was born. The difference is the fact that Kindergarten is formal education provided by professional teachers. And everything from this day forward will be on her “permanent record”.

Ready to learn!

Ready to learn!

That seems like a tall order for a little person. But I’m confident that she will succeed and thrive. Anna is bright, loving, inquisitive and kind. Her school is filled with loving, caring educators who put the children in their care above all other concerns. And she has parents who will support her and the school in their shared goal of educating Anna.

Still I’m feeling a bit ambivalent about all this BIG GIRL stuff. Maybe I’m being too sappy and overly sentimental. I suppose all parents (and sappy grandparents, too) are entitled to a few tears on the first day. But that should quickly give way to the excitement of new adventures in learning for our children and grandchildren.

Anna has already learned so much in her five short years. Her knowledge will grow exponentially now that she is in school. And soon I will be struggling to keep up with her. I just hope that she can teach this old dog a few new tricks along the way…

Peace,

Denis

A World of Brothers and Sisters

At the World Youth Day in Brazil, Pope Francis asked young people to “create a world of brothers and sisters.” He also visited one of Rio’s notorious favelas (slums) to call attention to the poor, disenfranchised and marginalized.

What a message for our youth today: Love all people as a brother or sister and stop chasing material happiness to the detriment of those with less.

Pretty counter-cultural stuff. Do we as the parents and grandparents of today’s youth support these ideals? Do we show our love for our enemies by our words and actions? Do we support global justice? Where do we stand on immigration reform? These are not easy questions to answer. Who amongst us wants less for our own children? Isn’t the American Dream a set of ideals in which freedom includes the opportunity for prosperity and success, and an upward mobility? But should our personal success and upward mobility be at the expense of our brothers and sisters? As Christians shouldn’t we have a preference for the poor? Francis gives us much to ponder.

It’s hard sometimes to think globally. It’s too big. Too distant. It’s too removed from my world. It’s easy to dismiss Darfur or Egypt or the slums of Rio. But what about my brothers and sisters in my own community?

Recently two failing school districts in Saint Louis have requested help from other districts, one being the district in which I reside. Because these failing districts have lost their accreditation students graduating from their high schools find acceptance at colleges and universities nearly impossible. There is a myriad of reasons for these failures but mostly it is economic and poor kids are suffering. So while the Pope is imploring our youth to reach out to those in need; to create a world of brothers and sisters, some Christians in my community are fighting to keep these “unwanted students” out of our schools. There are concerns about property values, violence and drugs entering our school systems. This matter is further complicated by the fact that these two predominately black districts have requested help from two predominately white districts.

I understand and appreciate concerns for the safety of our children. I also realize that these are complex issues that the local media has reduced to sound-bites. But how can we foster “a world of brothers and sisters” across the ocean when we can’t peacefully and lovingly accept those brothers and sisters across the river? What would Jesus do?

I think that Francis is telling us. And I suspect that more prayer will be required…

Peace,

Denis

Looking For God In All The Wrong Places

Recently my five year-old granddaughter Anna decided that God is probably a man because “God is kind of a boyish sounding name”. She also remembered that in her Children’s Bible, God is referred to as Jesus’ father and because fathers are men God must be a man, too. I suppose we’ll deal with the Holy Spirit’s sexuality later.

Such is the need for concrete theology when you’re five years old. Anna needs black and white answers. And I get that. But what about adults? Why are so of us many hung up on the minutia? Why is the rule book so important? Why do we try to put God in a box. Why is it necessary to humanize the divine? Why does it seem that we must always make God small enough to fit in our limited view of life? And where do we find God? In the clouds? In our churches?

Lately I have realized that I’ve been looking for God in all the wrong places. Or at least I’m not looking EVERYWHERE. Or in EVERYONE. Thus I limit God. I suppose that there’s a little five year-old inside me that wants (needs) God to be a man and wants (needs) God to be up in heaven at the controls. That would be easier in so many ways. It’s comforting to think that I can just tuck God away for safekeeping. To be pulled out and dusted off when I need God. Of course we ask for God’s help and mercy during tragic times. Often it’s hard to find God in catastrophic events like the tornado this week in Oklahoma. Where are you God? If you are truly omnipotent, then please make the bad stuff stop!

Blog photoBut I believe that God’s hands are at work in pulling survivors from the rubble. I believe that God is in those who are comforting the mourning and bringing relief to the suffering. And I keep finding God in people who fill my life with love and joy.

Mostly I find God in my wife’s touch, in my children’s voices, and in my grandchildren’s laughter. God is present in the Eucharist but also present in my friends and my neighbors and the clerk at the local market and in my co-workers. It just takes a little focus (prayer) sometimes to see Him/Her.

So church is fine and clouds are beautiful and nature is awesome but I don’t find God there as often as I’d like (should?). God is here with me. And you. Next door. Down the hall. Just around the bend. God refuses to be limited by my human constraints and I keep reminding myself that God is not distant. I am.

Peace,

Denis

Oh Buster!

My grandson is named Noah but his nickname is Buster. And more than a few times I’ve heard some responsible adult exclaim, “Oh Buster!” Sometimes in exasperation or fear, but most often in amusement. Such is life with Buster. He is a two year-old dynamo!

Winning a ribbon for what he does best - jumping, running and tumbling

Winning a ribbon for what he does best – jumping, running and tumbling

Noah has one speed – fast! And he is fearless (well he’s not afraid of me). He’s the kid that leads you right up to the precipice and then beams that beautiful smile while you tumble head-over-heals into his abyss of toddler silliness. I have snatched him out of harms way more than a few times (nearly running into the street, jumping off a too-high platform, grabbing a knife off of the counter, dragging the dog by her tail). He’s NOT a bad boy; he’s a TWO YEAR-OLD boy. He knows how to do a lot of things; he doesn’t understand the consequences of most of the things that he does. It’s this delicate balance of danger and freedom and joyfulness that is fascinating to him (and maddening to his beleaguered grandfather). Oh Buster!

Still I love it all. And of course I love him so much it breaks my heart every time he gets a new bump or bruise or gash on this perilous road to self-discovery. He is undaunted and usually just picks himself up and brushes himself off and moves on to the next challenge (danger). Always with a bounce in his step and smile on his face.

Proudly displaying his bandaged gash!

Proudly displaying his bandaged gash!

Of course he’s a lover-boy, too. There are plenty of hugs and kisses dispensed by my little man. I suspect he knows just how disarming his smile is and he employs it as a defense mechanism. It’s hard to be angry over his minor transgressions when they are accompanied by a twinkle in his eye and his beaming smile. And few things sound sweeter to me than when he and I are walking somewhere together and he announces, “Pawpaw carry you!”, which is two year-old for “Pawpaw will you carry me?” And of course I will!

So we’ll be buddies as long as he allows. It’s such great fun! His spirit of adventure reminds me that usually it’s easier to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission. So I’ll do what I can to keep us both out of trouble. And I’m certain that we’ll hear the occasional “Oh Buster!” but we’ll just keep smiling.

Peace,

Denis (Pawpaw)