Family

Leaving Home – Going Home

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

My life is a little ‘upside down’ right now. Home is Saint Louis but because I live in the United Kingdom now that’s home, too. So after a nice visit back home, I’m back home. But which is which?

I suppose the answer is both.

I love my family and miss them terribly but Deb and I are here in England together and that makes it right. And we are having our big adventure and meeting new people and seeing new places and sharing this special time together. Right here ~ right now.

On the other hand my heart is in the United States with my kids, grandkids, parents, siblings, and friends. Right there ~ right now. So I am a man living in two countries. One physically; one emotionally. And that’s right, too. Right here and there ~ right now.

Next weekend we will go to Paris for a little get-away. Paris! A little holiday from our year-long holiday. And then we’ll come back home to England. England!

If someone had told me 37 years ago when Deb and I walked down the aisle together that we would someday be living in the U.K. and traveling Europe together I would have thought they were totally mad (and I say ‘mad’ now because I’m practically English). But back then we were a couple of 19-year old “knuckleheads” without a pot to pee in. And now here I am writing this after just finishing my cottage pie and sticky toffee pudding whilst ‘Britain’s Got Talent’ is playing in the background on the telly. And it’s for real.

And it’s right here ~ right now.

Oaksey, UK - a little slice of heaven at 'home'.

Cheers,

Denis

Alleluia!

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Easter. Spring. Rebirth. Resurrection. New Life. Alleluia!

On Easter Sunday after six weeks of Lent, the Alleluia returned. Triumphantly we proclaimed that He is risen – He is risen indeed! And we sang Alleluia. And we shouted Amen!

Easter Joy!

This Easter Sunday was exceptional because I was shouting and singing Alleluia because He is risen and because we were re-united with our children and grandchildren. All the more reason to shout Amen! And so there is new life and rebirth and hope and joy and love in our lives. We are experiencing the eternal springtime that we find in Christ.

Next week we will head back to England but we will carry with us a rejuvenated spirit in our hearts and we will fill our home there with it until we are re-united again. Don’t misunderstand me. Our life in England is good. And we are thoroughly enjoying it all – the travel, the sightseeing, the new experiences, the new people but I miss my life here, too.

So this week we are savoring simple pleasures and quiet moments. We are sharing time with family and friends and filling up those empty places in our soul. And it is wonderful. And being here this week and tucking my grandkids in at night after bathtime and bedtime stories and prayers is the sweetest reward life has afforded me. It’s God’s gift to me; so precious and true. And waking up to smiles and hugs and kisses. And chants of “Pawpaw, Pawpaw, Pawpaw!” is music to my ears.

We’ll head back to England next week and make more memories and have some experiences of a lifetime (I hope). And we’ll remind ourselves (most days) how fortunate we are to have this opportunity.

And when we get homesick and melancholy we’ll remember that just like the Alleluia, our life here will return, too.

Peace,

Denis

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Saturday begins a week of travel: London to New York; New York to Saint Louis; Saint Louis to Las Vegas; Las Vegas back to London (and then home to Oaksey). It’s a lot of travel for one week. And I’m not in any city more than 48 hours – barely enough time to catch my breath.

I’m not complaining. I’m actually looking forward to sneaking away one evening in Saint Louis to see my daughter, son-in-law and grandkids – even if it is for just a few hours. That one evening will help put the rest of the week into perspective.

Things are a bit topsy-turvy in my life right now. Home is now Oaksey, Wiltshire, United Kingdom. But “going home” means traveling to Saint Louis to see family. It’s a strange feeling. We love our new home and we are very glad to be here but Deb and I have both said it could only be perfect if our family and friends were here, too.

So I’ll grab a hug and kiss or two in Saint Louis and then go on to more business in Las Vegas only to return to England at the week’s end. Deb will be joining me on the return flight to London (she’ll spend the week with our family while I traipse all over the country).

I’ll be an Ambassador of sorts for my staff here in the U.K. Four of us will be traveling together and two of them haven’t spent much time in the U.S., let alone New York or Las Vegas. It should be interesting (and maybe entertaining) traveling together. Here’s hoping that our travels are pleasant; our meetings are purposeful; and our flights are on time. I feel personally responsible for how their perception of America will be shaped by this whirlwind week of travel.

Things that I’m dreading:

Television coverage of the GOP primary

Rednecks

Tourists in New York – “walk with purpose, people!”

All-you-can-eat buffets (Americans are considered grossly over-fed by Brits)

Rude taxi drivers

Drunk and disorderly Vegas revellers (particularly if it’s one of us)

Anyone wearing a Hawaiian shirt

Hoping to avoid all these things, but I can only do so much…

Peace,

Denis

Saint Isidore and Other Miraculous Interventions

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

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

In Her Heart

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

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

Pa Rum Pum Pum Pum

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I’ve had a little drummer boy at my house this year (and two little drummer girls, too). There’s something about having the grandkids around that makes Christmas that much merrier; that much happier – the giggles, the silliness, the excitement. It’s all pure joy!

Come Let Us Adore Him

But then there’s been the “holy” moments, too. Those kind of sneak up on me:

This morning Charlise’s Polly Pocket® and one of her friends have decided to join the Wise Men at our Nativity scene. Why wouldn’t Polly want to “come and adore Him”?

On Christmas morning at Mass Anna sang “Joy To The World” very loudly and to the delight of the parishioners sitting nearby – a solo choir of angels!  (Thank you Assumption Parish Pre-school and Miss Ashley)

And somehow Noah seems to find those times, when I’m feeling especially nostalgic, to run to me and wrap his arms around my neck and wipe away any melancholy – my little drummer boy!

This is one of those special Christmases when all three of our kids are home – Tyson home from Korea and Blake from Wisconsin and of course Bess and Travis here in town. It’s especially wonderful because next week Deb and I are leaving for our big European Adventure. And exciting as it is, it means more separation from our loved ones – so it’s bitterweet.

So this morning I’m having a quiet moment and thanking God for my blessings. And looking forward to some more family time (so rare; so precious) and along the way there’ll be lots more love and laughter and maybe even a tear or two, but my little drummer boy (and girls) will be there to wipe them away – pa rum pum pum pum!

Peace,

Denis

Repeat The Sounding Joy

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Today our Church celebrates the third Sunday of Advent also known as “Gaudete Sunday.” Gaudete means “rejoice” in Latin. This joyful spirit is marked by the third candle of our Advent wreath, which is rose (or pink) colored.

Growing up I was always excited to see the pink candle lit – it meant just two weeks until Christmas.  And my excitement and anticipation would intensify tenfold. I knew that Christmas was still two full weeks away but we were already halfway through Advent. Halfway through our time of waiting!

So lighting that pink candle was a time for rejoicing. And it still is.

Today of course I am less excited about what gifts will be exchanged (although gift-giving is still a joyful experience) and more focused on Christ’s coming. As Catholic Christians we celebrate Christ’s coming at Christmas in three ways:

His coming as an infant over 2,000 years ago in Bethlehem.

His coming at the end of time.

His coming in our lives today.

While images of tiny baby Jesus are sweetly sentimental (and for those of us that have been parents or babies perhaps easy to relate to) and imagining the majesty of end times can be quite awe inspiring, for me receiving Jesus in my heart and home at Advent and Christmas is most significant.

Third Week of Advent - light your pink candle!

I need Jesus here and now to help me put my life into perspective. I need His loving example to help me deal with relatives that always seem to be the least lovable at Christmastime. I need Jesus’ wisdom to decide how to give gifts that honor His birth while still meeting the needs of those that I have gifted. I need His patience to allow the holidays to “unfold” and not become a raving madman because something doesn’t go as I planned. I need Jesus’ forgiveness for all of the times that I will fail to be loving, giving, and patient.

Today I’m filled with joyful anticipation. Because very soon He will come. He comes with love. He comes with wisdom. He comes with patience. And He offers me forgiveness.

Peace,

Denis

I rejoice heartily in the LORD, in my God is the joy of my soul. Isaiah 61:10

 

Relating To The World

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It’s the second week of Advent and I’m feeling the pressure to be more holy (or holy at all, in my case). So I’m lighting my Advent wreath and reflecting on how I celebrate our Savior’s birth. Can I love God and love our modern (sometimes tacky) celebration of Christmas, too? Must they be mutually exclusive?

Merriam-Webster defines the word secular as: Relating to worldly concerns; not overtly or specifically religious. That doesn’t sound so menacing to me. And yet I’m constantly hearing about the evils of the secular world in which we live. It seems that lately our priests’ homilies are filled with warnings about being consumed by our secular society. On the first Sunday of Advent we were admonished for placing gift-giving, holiday decorating, and Santa Claus before Christ. Somehow those things are equated with secularism and by association deemed contrary to what Christmas should really be about.

Second Week of Advent

Sometimes I think that we get so caught up in protecting our traditions we forget that some of our most sacred Christian celebrations – Easter and Christmas were placed on the calendar to take advantage of earlier non-Christian feasts. People were already partying at the spring and winter equinoxes so why not just slip Christ’s resurrection and birth into those time slots? Did we in fact Christianize earlier pagan feasts? I don’t know – maybe. But who cares? Is Christ’s birth and life on Earth less significant if he wasn’t actually born on December 25th? Is his resurrection any less meaningful because of when we celebrate?

Living in the world today, spending too much money on silly Christmas presents and decorating a tree doesn’t define our belief in Christ any more than the likelihood that we celebrate his birth on what was once a pagan feast day.

The Lord is patient with you, not wishing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.     2 Peter 3:9

I know that “Jesus is the reason for the season” but as a Christian I believe that he’s also the reason there’s a world to live in. So I’ll try to relate to it the best that I can. It just so happens that some of his creation likes a little tinsel, eggnog and “Jingle Bells” blasting from their iPods. I suspect that God is not offended but merely amused when I’m “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” or playing Santa with my grandkids. And for the record, in our house, we all sing “O Come O Come Emmanuel” at the dinner table after lighting our Advent wreath, too. Somehow it works because at the center of it all is love. Isn’t that what Jesus asked us to do?

Peace,

Denis

What Matters Most Is The Thanks

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I’m a sucker for tradition. I love old movies. I love family folklore. I want to believe that “the way” we do things at Thanksgiving is the way generations before us celebrated as well. I love the fact that Deb shares the same need for traditional holiday gatherings (with some southern country flair compliments of her beloved Mimi). We’ve blended our family traditions and created some new ones of our own. So on Thanksgiving there will be turkey and dressing and candied sweet potatoes and brussels sprouts and cranberries and pumpkin pie – just like the Pilgrims (well at least in my revisionist history of the First Thanksgiving anyway).

But it has occurred to me that none of that really matters. How can you celebrate Thanksgiving WITHOUT turkey? Or Stuffing? Or Sweet Potatoes? Or Cranberries? Or God Forbid – Pumpkin Pie???

We have dear friends that have traveled east to visit family and celebrate an ‘Italian Thanksgiving’ complete with lasagna.  My cousin Colleen who lives in Thailand can’t get pumpkin for a pie this year. Our son Ty is stationed at Kunsan Air Base in South Korea and will likely be eating in a mess hall and missing Mom’s special recipes. And millions of folks will be having Thanksgiving pizza, sub sandwiches, burgers or God-knows-what. And they’re (we’re) the lucky ones. Millions more will be starving.

But those of us that can give thanks, should. We should be thankful for one another. Thankful for love. Thankful for a full belly. And a place to lay our heads. Thankful for a God that provides light even in our darkest hours.

There is certainly no shortage of pain or heartache or suffering in our world. And perhaps you’re suffering, too. For me Thanksgiving this year is a little bittersweet; feeling especially melancholy about the separation next year from family and friends (especially my grandkids). Yesterday I was feeling down and then I received a Thanksgiving card in the mail from my cousin Rose. Just a simple thing but it immediately lifted my spirits. And for that I am thankful – thankful to be loved and to be part of a family that remembers to share their love. Thanks Rose, you’ll never know how much I needed your note!

So tomorrow I will remember to give thanks for all my blessings. And I know that it won’t matter if Thanksgiving dinner isn’t perfect in every way (everywhere) because it’s the sharing that matters not the meal that is shared.

Peace,

Denis

Big Brother

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I grew up with two older brothers – Dave and Dean. My brother Dave, the oldest, has always been my protector, counselor, advocate, defender and friend – in short he’s my big brother and my hero.

Today it seems that we’re in short supply of heroes. Politicians lie to us. Church leaders have abused us (and their authority). Sports stars are too often arrogant jerks. And movie stars, rock stars and television stars seem to be mostly self-absorbed narcissists. So I’m blessed to have a hero in my family. And I suspect that some of you may have once shared a bunk bed with a hero, too.
 
My brother Dave is only a few years older than me but at times it seemed that we were a generation apart. He was a teenager in the 1960’s and I was one in the 1970’s. He was all “crew-cut and skinny neck ties” and I was all “moppy-haired and platform shoes”. The sixties were way cooler than the seventies – he had the Beatles and Route 66 on TV. I had the Monkees and Marcus Welby, M.D. When Dave was a teenager I was still in grade school and in complete awe of his coolness. I would secretly listen to his Motown LP’s and douse myself with his English Leather® while he was away. 

One of the best Christmas presents that I ever got, The Kenner Girder and Panel Building Set®, came from Dave. He bought it with money he earned working part-time at Standard Drug Store. He could have spent all his money on himself. He didn’t have to get me a gift but that’s just the kind of brother he was (and is). I credit Dave for instilling in me the love of design and construction that I still possess today (and have made my career).
 
Dave was born responsible. Which is perhaps the curse of the ‘first-born’. Parents seem to place all their hopes and dreams on their first child. “Make us proud!” is the command to the oldest. By the time parents get around to the third child the command becomes a plea, “Don’t shame us!” And with the exception of those aforementioned platforms shoes, I believe that I held up my end of the bargain. Oh, and that time that I wrecked Mom’s Corvair (I still say it wasn’t my fault). But while the expectations were lowered for Dean and me, Dave was charged with making them proud. And he did! And he does.
 

Little Brother ~ Big Brother

Growing up, Dave did all the tough stuff. He was the trailblazer. He was the trendsetter. Dean and I were the followers. Dave did all the heavy lifting. We reaped the rewards of his older brother wisdom and hard work. He took care of us even when Mom and Dad didn’t ask. And long after he should have. When you have a reliable older brother it’s easy to think that he should just take care of it – whatever it is. Such is the blessing of being the younger sibling.

 Dave has always been there when I’ve needed him and has shouldered his responsibility as the oldest with grace and generosity. Anytime that I’ve asked for his help the response has ALWAYS been the same – What, where, when? No hesitation. No resistance. Just support.
 
So Dave here I am again and of course I am in need. What I need is for you to know that I love you – here, now and always. And you are my hero. I keep hoping that someday I’ll grow up to be like you.
 
Peace,
 
Denis