Family

Aunt Gene

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

She was born at home in 1919 and named Alice. The doctors told my grandmother that she might not live because she was small and sickly. A priest was summoned immediately and she was baptized in anticipation of infant death. But God had other plans for baby Alice.

The smallest of thirteen children, she was never allowed to work in the fields with her siblings because of her mother’s concerns for her health. Instead she was relegated to indoor duties – cooking, cleaning, sewing, etc. Most kids would have been happy to avoid the grueling farm labor but she always carried a certain amount of guilt for not having carried her weight. But as she told me many times, “Mom said no! And that was the end of the discussion.”

At thirteen years old she left farm and family behind and joined her two older sisters to enter the community of the Sisters of the Most Precious Blood in O’Fallon, Missouri. When she made her final vows in 1940 she became Sister Eugene Marie and began a life of teaching that included nearly 40 years at her beloved St. John the Baptist Parish in St. Louis.

Growing up, I knew that our family was special because my Mom had three sisters who were nuns. My Grandpa wore it as a badge of honor that three of his thirteen had dedicated their lives to God. And after Vatican II, Sister Lucy, Sister Noel and Sister Gene could freely join our family gatherings. My Aunts were “way cooler” than the school Sisters that taught me. We could laugh and joke around and I knew that they had lives outside of their classrooms (and brothers and sisters and nieces and nephews). My earliest memories of Aunt Gene are of her calling me “PeeWee” and me calling her “Shorty” – that would NEVER have happened with the Sisters at my school.

Perhaps Aunt Gene related to me because I was a scrawny kid like she must have been. Maybe I was drawn to her because she looked like my Mom in a habit. Regardless of the reason we have shared a bond that has lasted my entire life. As a child I loved the attention that she gave me. As an adult I saw how deeply she loved God and the children and families she served. Countless numbers of students were taught by Aunt Gene. And countless more were served in foreign missions through her tireless fundraising efforts. I often wonder if in her work for the missions she ever felt again like little Alice being told to stay indoors while others tended the fields? It doesn’t matter. She could do more with a few pennies than most of us could do with millions. And her gift was freely given.

My Mom and my Aunt Gene

My Mom and my Aunt Gene

This week Aunt Gene was carried home to God. She so desperately wanted to see her parents again. I imagine their reunion in heaven was quite a celebration. And those of us left behind will cherish our memories of her and celebrate, too. We honor the life of a humble servant, a great friend, a dear sister and a loving aunt.

I’d like to think she’s finally tending those fields right alongside her Mom and Dad and her siblings, Lucy, Ray, Edna, Art, Vernon, Noel, Frank, Everett and Bob.

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Check out the article from the St. Louis Archdiocese Mission Office: http://archstl.org/missions/content/view/207/308/

Five Years Old!

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Anna at fiveOur granddaughter Anna is five years old today. Five years old! It’s hard to believe that it has been five years since she was born but of course I can barely remember life without her. She has filled our world with light.

And five??? Five is one of those milestone birthdays, like 13 or 21. Kindergarten will begin this fall. She plays soccer now. She takes swimming lessons. She will have her first dance recital this spring. She knows the ‘days of the week’ and ‘months of the year’ and all her colors and numbers and she can write her name and mine too and is beginning to read REAL WORDS. I’m excited for all her ‘firsts’ but truth be told it scares me just a little. I find myself wanting things to slow down. There will be time enough in the future for her to learn how to ride a two-wheeler and study for SAT’s. I need more time RIGHT NOW to treasure her sweetness. Her innocence. I need my baby girl to be a baby a bit longer.

Pawpaw's Girl
Pawpaw’s Girl

But it’s not about what I need. Anna will continue to grow and I will have to adapt. I somehow managed to do that when her mother was transformed from a helpless newborn into a five year-old, who was learning so much, and then into a teenager, who knew too much, and then an adult, who is now teaching me so much. Life goes on. I want Anna to grow up. I want her to take on BEING FIVE with the same excitement and joy and love that she has shown throughout these brief five years. I want her to be undaunted; I want her to conquer the world the way she has conquered my heart. But I hope there’s still some time for baby dolls and Play-Doh®; make-believe and mud puddles.

Our relationship will change. I’ll get older. She’ll get wiser. She won’t need bedtime stories and our silly little games will become – well, silly and little. But I pray that our love for one another never changes.

I know that Anna is growing up and I am truly happy that she is five years old; and I look forward to 13 and 21. I want to be around to witness some of those milestones. I’d like to think that I’ll be on the sidelines cheering her on (and carrying an image of a precious baby girl in my heart).

Happy (Easter) Birthday Anna! Pawpaw loves you very much.

Peace,

Denis

Family Matters

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Recently while waiting for a flight, I saw my cousin at the airport. She was headed to Texas to visit her sister; I was on my way to New York on business. We hugged and kissed and exchanged the usual pleasantries and then we both went our separate ways. But I was changed a little by that brief encounter. As I boarded my plane I recalled fond memories of our childhood and our shared experiences and I realized once again that family matters. I thanked God then and there.

FamilyLivingPictureWe’re all born into families. Many of us marry into families. Others of us are adopted by families. Some families are small. Some are large. And it’s all relative (pun intended).

Our need of family intrigues me. We need to belong. We need to be part of a group of individuals that share a common bond; common link; a common ancestor. This need to band together is primordial. We gather as one. One people. One tribe. One purpose.

I’m certain that there are people who like to live alone. Hermits perhaps or cloistered nuns. But most of want to live with others; to share our lives with others. We need to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. And families seem the perfect way to do that. The shared experiences. The shared traditions. The shared memories. The shared joys and sorrows. That’s what makes us family. That and our love for one another. In our caring for and being cared for by family we see God’s love in action.

Families are not just biological creations. Some families are individuals not joined by birth or marriage but joined by love or common cause. We become family by giving of ourselves to one another. We become sisters and brothers through our need for one another. We lift each other up; we carry one another’s burdens; we celebrate one another’s victories; we laugh together; we cry together; we pray together.

Recently I experienced the amazing love of family when my mother-in-law passed away. My wife and her brothers came together to support my father-in-law and to carry one another through the most painful of times. Their tenderness for one another and their love needed no words; no grand gestures. It was just pure and simple and profoundly beautiful. I have never been prouder of them or prouder to be a part of them.

Of course there will likely be many sad days ahead. Grief slips in and attacks us when we least expect it – a song, a photo, a favorite food, or some long-forgotten memory can trigger an emotional overload. Our loss can be truly disabling. But we trudge along and we cherish our memories and get busy with caing for one another. And we adjust. And we adapt. But we NEVER forget.

And this is why family matters.

Peace,

Denis

Remember When Valentine Was a Saint?

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Growing up I celebrated Saint Valentine’s Day. Somewhere along the way it just became Valentine’s Day. I’m not sure why, maybe it was a concerted effort to eliminate all that is good and holy from our world or to brainwash us into buying Hallmark® cards. More than likely it’s just a harmless derivative of what once was a Catholic feast day honoring a saint whose very existence is in dispute. Generally, it is believed that Valentinus was a Roman priest martyred during the reign of Claudius II for aiding and marrying Christian couples (hence the romantic connection). But several Valentines are mentioned in early Christian history and many legends surround the name.

St. Valentine

Whether Valentine was a legend, or a saint doesn’t have much bearing on how we celebrate February 14th. Today Valentine’s Day is a day for lovers. Whether it’s a new romance or a time-tested marriage; whether it’s the celebration of love between parents and their children or best friends; it’s a good day to say, “I love you”. And how can that be a bad thing?

For me, my wife Deb is my Valentine. She’s the one that stands by me through thick and thin. She is my leaning post, my rock, my partner, my inspiration and my joy. She is the one that gives meaning to my life – she is my lifetime Valentine. If some red roses and a romantic meal together will show her how much her love means to me – it’s a small price to pay.

We love one another everyday but I believe that Valentine’s Day is a good day to love a little more. Hug those that are close to you just a little bit tighter. Kiss your wife (or husband) with a little more passion. Send a note to someone that you’ve neglected. Call a friend just to say hello. Help carry a load. Mend a quarrel. Make peace. Love.

Some folks might bemoan the fact that the ‘Saint’ has been taken out of Valentine’s Day, but I think that Valentine cards and heart-shaped boxes of candy are as harmless as bunnies on Easter. And maybe, just maybe, it’s better to honor those saints living among us than some saint from antiquity.

Peace (and Love)

Denis

Jacqueline Jacqueline

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

GrannieSeveral years ago while visiting her mother-in-law in a nursing home my mother-in-law encountered a woman who asked her name. She responded, “My name is  Jacqueline; Jacqueline Dobbs.” The inquirer who was clearly suffering from some form of dementia or metal disability replied, “Well that’s an unusual name but it’s very nice to meet you Jacqueline Jacqueline!” And so it went. Every time the woman would encounter my mother-in-law she would greet her as Jacqueline Jacqueline. My mother-in-law found it quite amusing but she was always kind to that stranger and never tried to correct her. She just accepted her as she was.

This week my mother-in-law passed away. I suppose that I’m remembering that story because she too ended her life in a nursing home and was blessed by the kindness of strangers. In the weeks leading to her death she became increasingly weakened by COPD, congestive heart failure, and kidney disease. In addition she was struggling with dementia which was likely brought on by her diminished oxygen levels. Her caregivers were gracious, respectful and loving and she in-turn won their hearts. Because of her dementia she sometimes believed that she was visited by television celebrities and was convinced that beautiful lake homes surrounded the nursing facility. Her imaginations were very real to her. And the staff indulged her and just accepted her as she was. When it became clear that she wouldn’t survive, the nursing staff embraced our family with overwhelming love and kindness.

My mother-in-law wasn’t always easy to be around. And I often joked that she had been in a bad mood for nearly 40 years because she was unhappy that Deb had agreed to marry me (she apparently had imagined a better life for her daughter). The truth is, our relationship was pretty tense at times. But life went on and after many years she accepted the fact that I wasn’t going away. We shared the love of the same people and ultimately learned to love one another.

The last several weeks of her life Jackie seemed let go of her anger and disappointment and she and I had the best days of our 38 years together. It was the most beautiful gift that she could have ever given me. I realize now that she did love me and was proud of the life that Deb and I had built. She told me how much she loved our children and especially our grandchildren. She let me know that I was a good husband and father and son-in-law. But the real gift that she gave me was the realization that life is too short to hold on to grudges and resentment. Anger and bitterness only serve to sap the spirit from our lives. Being justified in my outrage is not worth the loss of love that I will be denied by my own stubbornness or self-righteousness.

When things became hopeless and no medical intervention could save her, we prayed for a peaceful passing. God granted her that blessing. Jackie was surrounded by her husband and children and, I believe, the angels. A few weeks before her death she told us that she kept hearing a man’s voice singing one refrain from the hymn Silent Night, “sleep in heavenly peace.” At last she had found that peace. Peace with the world. Peace with God.

My mother-in-law wasn’t always easy to be around but she was capable of tremendous kindness and she loved her family fiercely. And I know that included me.

Peace,

Denis

Storybooks, Legos and Baby Dolls

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Our home office is actually a multi-purpose room. It’s truly a third bedroom that was converted into an office and now serves as the toy room, the art supply room, the nursery, the occasional spare bedroom and whenever possible is actually used as an office. I often find my center here. I pray here. I blog here.

OfficeI love this room because it is full of reminders of all the love in my life. This room is comfort and joy to me. And even when it’s a little messy – toys or books or art projects strewn about – it is still a place of repose. Sometimes when I’m alone I read the grandkids’ books to myself, like “You Are My Wish” by Maryann Cusimano Love – “I am your soft lap; you are my climb. I am your story; you are my rhyme.” – what poetry! it just tugs at my heart!

Sometimes this room is full of activity with three grandchildren happily playing or creating some new works of art. Sometimes this room is still except for the soft breath sounds of Noah while he is napping in his crib. Sometimes music is playing through the speakers thanks to a handy son-in-law. And sometimes it’s just me clacking away at the keyboard of my computer and then proofreading and deleting (and re-typing and re-reading and deleting again). It truly is a multi-purpose room.

And the love abounds. It’s found in the favorite toys and books. It’s in the little mementos of our travel abroad. It’s in the photos of friends and family. It’s in a note from Deb of little importance (except it’s written in her beautiful penmanship). It’s in the small plaque that reads, “God Only Knows What I’d Be Without You”.

Office2This room will never be featured on HGTV or shown in House Beautiful. It’s cluttered and a bit haphazard. It’s full of Legos and storybooks and baby dolls. It’s relatively small and it lacks any real style. But it’s our room. And it’s our life. And it reflects our love.

They say that home is where the heart is – this room might just be our soul.

Peace,

Denis

Auld Lang Syne

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

The old Scottish song that is traditionally sung on New Year’s Eve can be translated into English literally as “old long since”, or as “days gone by”. So at each year’s end we look back at the “days gone by” and reflect on the what, when, why, who and how. Some years we’re just glad it’s over and we’re ready to move on. The best years are the ones when we’ve learned something or survived something or loved anew. In other words: We’ve grown mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

For us 2012 has been a year to remember. We started our year living in Oaksey, Wiltshire, United Kingdom. And ended our year living back home in Missouri, USA. In between there was a lot of mental, emotional and spiritual growth. We learned how to assimilate in England. We never picked up the accent but we do now know the difference between knackers and being knackered. I suppose that I looked English enough that I was almost always stopped for directions when touring villages in the Cotswolds (being pasty white helped). We also learned how to drive on the left side of the road with only one small accident apiece. Deb learned how to cook Scotch broth and I learned how to grill lamb on the barbecue. And we relished our trips to the butcher shop, the green grocer, the sweet shop and the bakery (with their lardy cakes).IMG_5277

We grew emotionally by realizing that we could be away (far away) from home but never really be gone from those whom we love. Six special visits from friends and family helped us throughout our extended stay. It was good to be ambassadors to our adopted country and discover new experiences with friends (and return to a few of the places we had already discovered). Mostly it was good to know that Deb could survive so much alone time just with me – turns out we still like each other pretty much! I’m a lucky man.

And we grew spiritually, too. Our little church and faith community in Cirencester, England was a respite. No threats of excommunication in England or denial of communion if we voiced support of a social program which was contrary to official Church teaching or voted for the wrong candidate. We were loved by our priest “as we were” and embraced by our faith community “just because…” No litmus test of worthiness required.

Mostly 2012 was fun and funny. We enjoyed being in the UK during the Olympics and Queen Elizabeth’s diamond jubilee. We ate new foods (new to us anyway) and drank good French and Italian wines at bargain prices. We laughed at Benidorm and Father Ted on the telly as well as Aldi adverts. We laughed at our own foibles – like ordering 44 euros worth of macaroons in Paris because we thought the woman behind the counter said 14. Ooh, la, la! Or the (many) times we missed the round-about into or out off Cirencester (our nearest town. Or when Deb nearly got run over (three times) on Abbey Road so we could get the perfect photo. Or when we went to the ‘One Woman Show’ in Edinburgh that required audience participation (I still have nightmares about a big sweaty red-lipsticked kiss – don’t ask!). Or when we thought our 83-year old tour guide in Rome would be easy to “keep up with” but then Rinaldo nearly walked us to our death. Turns out that old Italians have more stamina than not-so-old Americans!

We loved our life in England and we miss it, too. But it’s true that there’s no place like home. Only God knows what 2013 will bring. But I hope that we can continue to grow mentally, emotionally and spiritually.

I hope that you do as well.

Peace,

Denis

Santa and The Wise Men

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My two-year old grandson Noah likes to have Santa stand alongside The Wise Men at our nativity scene. Noah knows that Christmas is Jesus’ birthday. He also knows that birthdays are lots of fun. And Santa is the fun Christmas guy so why not make him part of the celebration? So we mix our fantasy with theology here. Or is it the other way around? Either way Santa has “come to adore Him” at our house.Santa and The Wise Men

Christmas is always a mixed bag. We embrace the secular (you know because we actually live in the world) and we exchange gifts and write letters to Santa and leave cookies and reindeer food and all the rest. And we go to Mass and sing and pray and shout the joy of our Savior’s birth. We we are a bi-celebratory family! If Noah is a little confused about where Santa belongs, it’s not surprising. And it’s also okay with me. Santa, a guy who is spreading love around like mad, is welcome in my home.

Our family usually plays a game on Christmas Eve called “Rob Your Neighbor” – everyone brings a few small gifts (some are gag gifts and some are treasures). All the gifts are beautifully wrapped, concealing their simplicity or beauty or hideousness. After all the gifts are doled out and unwrapped revealing their value or lack thereof we then roll dice to see who can “rob” the most from their “neighbor” until the time runs out. When the bell chimes what’s left is what you get. Often there is fevered excitement trying to obtain the few treasures amongst the cache of gifts.

This year we toyed with the idea of changing the game to “Love Your Neighbor” with the idea of giving the treasured gift(s) to another but that seemed a little lame for our family. We like our mercenary little game of theft and avarice. And there is always plenty of laughter while we’re fighting over the treasured items. And in our game we are loving one another in our own slightly twisted and aggressive sort of way.

This morning at Mass, Father Joe reminded us that God is love and that we will find that love in those sitting next to us in the pew. I looked at my family and I saw God there. Then Father Joe told us that God is in us. That was a little harder for me to imagine until my four-year old granddaughter Anna looked up at me and smiled her sweet innocent smile. I suppose she might have seen a little glimpse of God in this tired old sinner. And now I have a new responsibility to her and her brother and the rest of the world. God is in me??? That changes everything.

Tonight it occurred to me that if Santa can hang with the Wise Men and if God is in me then our silly little game BELONGS on Christmas Eve. It’s a celebration of our love. Everyone takes part and we all leave a little richer for the experience. God made us imperfect so that we can be perfected by His love. And if we play a few silly games along the way, so be it…

Peace,

Denis

Hope

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Tragic. Horrific. Unimaginable.

These are just a few of the headline words used to express the shock and dismay of the merciless attack at Sandy Hook Elementary School on Friday morning. Children massacred – it’s still almost too painful to contemplate but I try to understand; to make some sense of it. But I cannot comprehend the hate so virulent in one individual that he would commit the most despicable crime against the most innocent of victims.

As a citizen I am outraged. As a parent and grandparent I am shaken. As a child of God I am broken-hearted.

HandsThere’s a part of me that wants to “put it away”; to not talk about it; not think about it. I would like to tell myself that it happened far away and was random and can NEVER touch me or my precious grandchildren. But as I write this, the tears stream down my face thinking of those grandfathers in Connecticut that won’t get to hold their grandsons and granddaughters on their laps again; who won’t hear giggles and see sweet smiles. Who will never again get another tight squeeze around the neck or a precious kiss on a craggy old face.

Today at Mass our priest asked us to lift up those families in prayer. He implored us to be THE PEACE that we can be in our own families; in our own communities.

I can’t undo the hideous attack that was perpetrated on those children in Connecticut but I can be an agent of peace. I can deplore violence. And I can defuse anger and hatred in my own life. I can try to love as Jesus taught us.

Won’t you join me? Let’s mend broken relationships. Let’s try to ease the pain of others. Let’s stop buying music, movies and video games that glamorize violence. Let’s ask our members of Congress to actively work on real gun control legislation. Let’s stop reacting to violence with more violence.

There is hope amidst the horror. And as we enter into the fourth week of Advent in preparation of the Christ Child, let’s truly create some peace on earth.

Peace,

Denis

The peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7

Parenthood

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The trend today is to ALWAYS make our children happy (at all times; at any expense). Recently I encountered a young family at Chik-fil-A® (I don’t agree with their politics but they serve a great chicken sandwich and my grandkids love the place!) who were cajoling Junior into eating his nuggets with the promise of ice cream and the indoor playground – so far so good. But when Junior was presented with the ‘free book’ that came with his meal, he threw it at the beleaguered mother and screamed, “I don’t like this one!” The frazzled father promptly promised to stop on the way home and buy him a different book after he had his ice cream and play time. I then promptly gave my grandson a ‘don’t even think about look’ while he was taking all of this in.

Now I’m compelled to share my wisdom as a service to all young parents out there (even though my own children would likely tell you that all their scars are emotional). So here in no particular order are my Rules for Parenting :

  1. Stop trying to be the perfect parent; they only exist in your mother’s imagination.
  2. It’s easier to negotiate with a terrorist than a two-year old.
  3. Don’t try to be your child’s friend (be a parent; it’s more rewarding in the long run).
  4. When doling out punishment, don’t flinch; once they see your weakness they won’t let up (give up, shut up) until you cave in.
  5. When they’re old enough to walk, they’re old enough to pick up their toys.
  6. Stop buying them so much stuff; love is free and it’s worth so much more.
  7. Be silly sometimes; be serious when you must.
  8. Pray (even if you’re just praying for sanity).
  9. Pick your battles; no child ever died because he didn’t clean his plate or take a proper nap.
  10. Reasoning with a preschooler can be like trying to nail JELLO® to a tree; it’s okay to just say NO (and mean it).
  11. Close your door; give yourself a TIME OUT when things reach the boiling point.
  12. Remember who the adult is and behave like one.
  13. It’s okay to be angry; kids can sometimes really piss you off. (But use your inside voice when you’re angry).
  14. Go outside; get some exercise and breathe some fresh air (and take the kids with you).
  15. You don’t ALWAYS have to have all the answers; it’s alright to say, “because I said so; that’s why!”
  16. When in doubt trust your instincts; my parents did and look how well I turned out.

Peace,

Denis