Family

Family Values

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

In our family we have a saying: “Who said it, Anna or Nana?” That’s because our 7 year-old granddaughter often says things that sound as if they’ve come directly out of my wife’s mouth or vice-versa. Example: Upon getting new earrings, “I believe that perhaps emerald has been my color all along.” Or after an exhaustingly long and fruitless shopping day, while being reminded that we did in fact find one of the sought-after items, “But that wasn’t really a present for me!”

I’ll let you decide who said what. The point is that these two often express themselves almost identically. It’s funny and adorable and baffling. Is it possibly hereditary? Or is it learned behavior? What makes a 7 year-old want to be like her grandmother? And what makes a grandmother (at times) behave like a 7 year-old?

Anna NanaSeems mysterious but I believe it can be explained. In the truest sense, these are family values. Not the “Traditional Family Values” which is often a religious or biblical distortion with a thinly veiled political agenda. True family values are the things that your family or my family value. It’s not a list of rules that we’ve been told to follow. Our family values come from our hearts and souls.

In our family we value love above all. “I love you” is a constant in our home and nothing sounds sweeter. Respect for one another. The right to disagree without being disagreeable. Caring for one another. Lifting each other up in times of need and allowing others to carry us on occasion. Joy. Laughing first and foremost at ourselves and sharing laughter, good times and fun whenever possible. Tears. We cry for one another. Our hearts break when one of us is suffering and when one of us cries the others can taste the salt. Honesty. Being true to yourself and being accepted by those who love you as you are. Prayer. We pray for peace, compassion, understanding, gentleness and courage. We thank God for our blessings and our strength in times of hardship.

So if Anna acts (and talks) like Nana or Nana acts (and talks) like Anna, it’s only because they mirror the love that they have for one another. And reflect our family’s values.

Peace,

Denis

My Sister’s Mother

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

My sister and I have sort of a running joke. Our 86 year-old mother sometimes acts her age and complains too much about her aches and pains or obsesses over the sad state of our world today. She will ignore what her own physician says but will follow the advice of Dr. Phil or Dr. Oz. Her hearing is not as good as it used to be and conversations can be exhausting. We often lose our patience with her, call one another in exasperation and ask, “Have you heard what YOUR mother said today?”

Mom and meAfter all, Mom has always been young, proud, beautiful, strong, well-informed and quick-witted. WE CAN’T HAVE HER ANY OTHER WAY. Such is the challenge with aging parents. Mom took care (takes care) of us, and now we struggle with the heartbreaking reality that someday soon we may need to take care of Mom. It’s life’s cruel joke. Mom, who bandaged our knees, held our hands, kissed away our tears, solved our problems, needs us now more than we need her. Perhaps she always did.

Mom and kayI think about my own children and grandchildren and how my heart aches at times when I hear of their misfortunes or disappointments. I think about how my heart soars when I hear about their triumphs and accomplishments. But mostly I cherish the simple times; the quiet moments; the unspoken love we share. Surely Mom must feel that way, too.

As Mother’s Day approaches, I will continue to ask God for patience and a gentler spirit when dealing with Mom. I will try to show more interest in what’s happening in her life and remind myself that she is still relevant. I will listen – REALLY LISTEN – and I will let her take care of me (even if it means worrying about something that doesn’t really need worrying about) and I will try to take care of her the best I can.

Mom and MeMom deserves more than our love. She needs us to be present: right here – right now! She deserves dignity, respect and kids who will let her be a little crazy (?) at times. Maybe we’re the crazy ones. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure my sister might be.

Peace,

Denis

Why My Aunt Loretta Is The Reason I Was Born

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

My parents met in 1946.

Dad had been honorably discharged from the Navy and returned to his hometown. Young and restless after having seen the horrors of the Pacific in WWII and more of the world than he had ever imagined, he was living with his parents, his grandmother, three of his aunts and his two younger brothers in a cramped house. He was ready to be on his own!

Mom had recently left the family farm and had moved in with her married sister and her family to be near the shoe factory where she had found employment. Factory work wasn’t easy but it was easier than life on the farm, caring for a widowed father and an invalid brother. She was ready to be on her own!

On that fateful day in August, Mom was walking home from her job at Brown Shoe Factory with a co-worker named Wayne. Dad was tooling around town in his car and spotted Wayne, who was an old school freind, walking with a pretty young girl. Dad pulled over and asked Wayne if he and his girlfriend would like a ride. Wayne’s response: “Sure George, but she’s not my girlfriend.”

And off they went with Mom in the front seat between Dad and Wayne. Dad, ever the sly one, dropped buddy Wayne off first so he could be alone with Mom. Mom remembers hugging the passenger door and leaning as far away from ‘The Stranger’ as possible. She thought he was handsome and friendly but maybe too friendly. She was releaved to be safely dropped at her sister’s door.

Before driving away Dad asked Mom out – that night. There was a VJ (Victory over Japan) Day dance that evening and he was a returning Vet and she would make him so happy if she would be his date. She thanked him for the ride home but gave him the “brush off” by telling him that she was busy.

momdad3

Dot and George ~ Still in love after all these years

Dad, never one to take no an answer, went home, cleaned up and put on his best suit and showed up at Aunt Loretta and Uncle Les’ door to pick up his date in time for the big dance. When Mom realized he was there she ran upstairs and asked her sister to lie and say she wasn’t there. But Aunt Loretta must have seen something in Dad that Mom hadn’t seen, in her haste to get away from him earlier that day, or perhaps she just wanted Mom out of her house.

So Aunt Loretta yelled up the steps, “Dot, your date’s here!” And the rest is history.

That was 70 years ago and Mom and Dad are still in love and just recently celebrated their 69th wedding anniversary.

We lost Aunt Loretta a few years ago but I can still hear her laugh and say, “You can thank me! If I hadn’t opened that door back in August 1946, none of you would kids be here today!”

And so it is…

Peace,

Denis

Anna Turns Seven

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

 On Tuesday Anna turns seven. Seven? Where did the time go? So much about her has changed in just seven short years. She still lets me hold her in my arms but I’m afraid those days are numbered. tunies.jpg

The name Anna means gracious and merciful and indeed she is! She has gone from being a helpless infant into a bright, confident, loving first grader. She’s a big sister who dotes on her little brother. She’s a sweet daughter who loves her Mommy and adores her Daddy. She’s a kind and caring friend who shares her time and attention (and her toys). And she’s a granddaughter who brings so much joy that sometimes my heart aches from the sheer beauty of her little soul.

I want to tell her how much she is loved but she already knows that.

I want to tell her that she has changed my world but I suspect that she knows that, too.

I have thanked God for her each day since she entered our world – with a song in her heart, a smile on her lips, and a twinkle in her eyes.

On Tuesday as she blows out her birthday candles I’ll be making some wishes, too. Here are my wishes for Anna:

  • Even when others are unkind. Stay true to your loving spirit.
  • Dream big. If you can dream it; you can do it!
  • Pray always: with words, with deeds, with your smile, with your tears.
  • Travel the world; have great adventures, but remember to always carry Home in your heart.
  • Never forget how much that you are loved. Especially by God.
  • Dance like no one is watching; sing your song to all who will listen.
  • Question authority; shake things up; make some noise for justice and peace.
  • Laugh out loud. A lot.
  • Be tough but caring. Be compassionate but strong.
  • Be the smartest person in the room but never be arrogant or unkind. 
  • Love without fear. Give yourself to others without regret.

anna pawpawI have one wish for myself, too. I hope that Anna lets me carry her in my arms until old age or weakness makes it impossible. And then I hope that she will carry me.

Happy Birthday Anna. Pawpaw loves you more than words can say!

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

Blue Chambray Shirt

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One of my favorite shirts is an old faded blue chambray. It’s comfortable. It fits just right. And it’s always there.

blue chambrayI love this shirt for its comfort but recently I may have discovered another reason why I cherish it. One evening last week I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and for the briefest of moments, I saw my grandfather in the reflection.

Tall, lean, a bit weathered by age, gray-haired, and standing straight as an arrow. I looked again but he was gone. Still the physical resemblance remains. I’m tall. I’m lean (although it’s a challenge at times to remain so). My hair is gray. But I could never have his hands. Those hands, so strong, so leathery, so molded by a lifetime of work and love and prayer.

My grandpa was a produce farmer. He spent his life working the fields of his farm and hauling his produce to market. It was rare to visit Grandma and Grandpa and not encounter a houseful of people. He had 13 children, 39 grandchildren and our son Blake Anthony, who was born a few months after his death, would have been his 50th great-grandchild and bears his name.

What I remember most about my Grandpa Tony is the way he reigned over the assembly gathered at his home. Sitting in his chair, his dog at his side, he was a true patriarch. When I was a child he seemed to be larger than life. And it was always a special treat to be pulled up onto his lap. With 38 other grandkids vying for that place of honor, those times were all the more precious. Grandpa especially loved the babies and I can vividly remember him holding my cousins Ron and Laura and my baby sister Kay. More often than not, he would be wearing that old faded blue chambray shirt.

As I grew older I had the joy of bringing my wife and children to visit Grandpa. When we would leave he always had the same send off: “Hurry back, I may not be here the next time you come.” Always standing straight and tall. Always wearing a blue chambray shirt. Always waving goodbye until we were out of sight.

Of course the time came when he wasn’t there. His 93 years didn’t seem long enough for those of us who loved him. But memories can last a lifetime. Particularly when they’re a little faded, comfortable and fit just right.

Peace,
Denis

Finding Christmas

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

My challenge each year is to remember to S L O W  D O W N and embrace the joy of Christmas. As a Catholic, I attempt to use Advent as a time to prepare myself for Christ’s coming (again). Mostly I fail.

I gripe about shopping. I complain about the weather, the traffic, the costs of things, and the rudeness of sales clerks. I eat more than I should and then complain that my co-workers are bringing too much food into the office. I bitch about the lack of consideration of others and then I push my way through crowds to get what I want (when I want it!). And I swear to all that is holy, if I hear Mariah Carey sing “All I Want For Christmas Is You” one more time, I might actually bleed from the ears.

So much for “glad tidings”.

But then, as happens most years, something in me stirs. Sometimes I’m hit over the head with the obvious: A loved one struggling with illness. A friend in need. A tragedy in a far-off land. A crisis at home. Other times I am reminded of my blessings: A granddaughter recovered from a concussion. Grown children home for the holidays. Gainful employment. The kindness of strangers. A loving wife. A forgiving God.

Joseph Anna

Joseph (aka Noah) with proud big sister Anna

Last night we attended our grandson’s preschool Christmas program. There he was bounding up on the altar decked out as Saint Joseph. He was one of many Josephs. In fact, it was a preschool full of Marys, Josephs and Shepherds singing and smiling and wiggling. Little faces beaming! And at least one old face beaming back. O Holy Night!

And suddenly I found Christmas.

Peace,

Denis

 

May I have a seat at this table?

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Mass began on Sunday with the hymn “All Are Welcome In This Place“.  I love this song and I truly felt welcomed and joyful. But not for long…

TableOur transitional deacon (he plans to be ordained next year) was the homilist. Like many of the newer priests and deacons this guy is an ultra-conservative. He took it upon himself to “set the record straight” on the recent Synod on Family taking place in Rome. This synod is a big deal (or should be) for Catholics. Pope Francis convened the bishops of the world to discuss the Church’s teachings on matters such as divorce, same-sex marriage, family planning, in-vitro fertilization and euthanasia. Initial press reports indicated, in my opinion, some much needed reform. Our young deacon felt the need to explain that the media had distorted the message of the synod and launched into a diatribe about abortion and marriage. No mention was made of the Church’s stance on capital punishment or preference for the poor, instead he only focused on sexual sin. He affirmed that NO CHANGE IN CHURCH DOCTRINE WOULD EVER HAPPEN. Because we live in a upper middle-class community in a very conservative state, most in attendance seemed to be comforted by his words. I was not.

I couldn’t help but think of the countless couples in our church being denied communion because of divorce and remarriage. My heart broke for those members of our parish who are gay or lesbian – once again being made to feel that they are not worthy. And what of the parents and friends in our parish community who have loved ones no longer welcomed? Instead of reaching out to us, with the love of Christ, this deacon took an opportunity to remind us of THE RULES.

So while we were all singing, “Built of hopes and dreams and visions, rock of faith and vault of grace; Here the love of Christ shall end divisions”, this deacon was no doubt mulling over just how he was going to impress upon us that we are indeed divided, and that we should put aside any hopes and dreams and visions of a loving, all-inclusive Church. This made me very sad. And I am especially sad for this soon-to-be priest. How will he ever shepherd, if he is blind to so many in his flock?

At the conclusion of the Synod on the Family, Pope Francis warned some in the hierarchy, “(There is) a temptation toward hostile inflexibility, that is, wanting to close oneself within the written word, and not allowing oneself to be surprised by God, by the God of surprises; within the law, we remain within the certitude of what we know and not of what we still need to learn and to achieve.”

Maybe someday I’ll get a seat at the table where we’re all welcome. I love the God of surprises!

Peace,

Denis

Noah is Four

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

Today is our grandson’s birthday. In four short years he has carved a hole so deep in my heart that I struggle at times to remember life before Noah. He is my golden boy!

Of course he’s smart. And of course he’s beautiful. His smile can melt the hardest of hearts. He has his Daddy’s boundless energy and his Mommy’s loving spirit. He may even have inherited a little bit of this old man’s temperament but with good parenting and lots of prayer that will hopefully be overcome.

Noah is fourWith leaps and bounds he has become a four year-old! Church, preschool, swimming, soccer and Little Gym® are all part of his life now. With a twinkle in his eye and a bounce in his step he is both fearless and completely disarming. His neighborhood friends and his backyard fort reign supreme. Swinging a bat or kicking a ball and running provide endless hours of fun. And when he asks me to play, I can never say no (but then, why would I?). Building things with Legos® or playing with blocks or scraps of wood captures his imagination. Playdoh® or construction paper, crayons, and markers feed his artistic spirit. He loves music and cannot help but dance or sing along when he hears a song that moves him. 

Noah is a lover. He is Mommy’s heart and Daddy’s soul. Keeping up with big sister Anna remains his number one priority (this will likely be a lifelong goal) and there are occasions when he nearly surpasses her. Witnessing the love that these two share is a slice of heaven.

Noah brings joy. There are people who carry joy with them wherever they go. Any encounter with these joy-givers always makes you feel better; better about yourself; better about your situation; better about the world. Noah has that gift. He gives joy to all who meet him! And I have been the lucky recipient of that joy for four blessed years.

Happy Birthday to my little man!

Peace,

Denis

 Noah found favor with the LORD – Genesis 6:8

The Lesson I Learned Watching National Velvet

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Recently two of our granddaughters spent the night. Part of the requisite for a sleepover is a movie. Usually it’s some Disney® or Pixar® animated “new release” but this time my wife suggested a classic: Elizabeth Taylor’s National Velvet.

What a treat! Not only was it a nice diversion from the usual fare but it is a beautiful film from 1944 that tells the tale of a girl who, against all odds, wins the British Grand National Steeplechase. Our granddaughters were mesmerized. First by the fact that they love horses; secondly by the fact that Velvet, the young girl played by Elizabeth Taylor, was disqualified because she was a girl (only boy jockeys were allowed in 1944). The girls were both delighted and outraged. They know full well that they can do anything boys can do.

My own little equestrian

My own little equestrian

But the message of the film was not lost on them. Velvet’s success in training and racing her horse and ultimately winning the race was what mattered. The recognition and prize money were less important. Velvet loved and believed in her horse and her reward was knowing that together they had achieved greatness regardless of what society deemed worthy or acceptable.

Of course I love my granddaughters but my pride in seeing them embrace a film that is not cutesy or Disney-fied is hard for me to put into words. They might have struggled with some of the British accents and some of the antiquated ideas from the 1940’s but they followed the story and cheered for Velvet and her horse. They both spoke later about how the important thing was that Velvet never gave up on her dream. Pretty profound for a six and nine year-old.

I’m guilty of sometimes dumbing-down stuff for my grandkids. I try to take some of the harshness out of reality. I want every day for them to be all sweetness and light. And I always want them to have rainbows and fairytale endings. But that’s not really such a good idea after all.

The girls taught me a valuable lesson the other night. I know now that they are tougher than I thought. They will be able to handle disappointment and heartache in life because they realize that they are surrounded by love. And they are capable of tremendous compassion. I’m certain that they will be winning their own “championships” someday and that their gains will be in character, faith and love.

It seems certain that there is much more they will be teaching me in the future. I can hardly wait…

Peace,

Denis

My Journey Continues Today

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Every journey is supposed to have a beginning and an end but it’s what happens along the way that fills my soul. Of course there are wrong turns and detours and setbacks as I plod on to reach my destination. I’ve discovered some unexpected surprises and realized anticipated milestones as I’ve reached them. I might feel lost or stuck at times; not sure how to go on or which way to turn. Time marches on and sometimes I struggle to keep pace. And yet I continue today. I simply have no choice. I continue.

My constant reminder to myself: Love more. Hurt less. Give more. Take less.

This is it. My only journey. And it won’t really ever end. I’ve decided to forgo focussing on the destination and relish the journey. I’m letting go of the false-starts and missteps; the disappointments and regrets.

I’m not sure where my journey may lead. And I’m grateful for the days that I’ve had and the ones that I hope to have in the future. I’ve seen some amazing places and known some extraordinary people. I’ve had moments in this life that have been heart-breakingly beautiful and some filled with such desperation that even the memory brings back the pain. But I’m embracing this day. TODAY.

Today I have a wife and children and grandchildren and we share an ordinary life. We work. Clean the house. Mow the lawn. Pay bills. Buy groceries. Prepare meals.

But more importantly: We play. We pray. We sing. We laugh. We cry.

imageFor me it’s always been the simple pleasures: Holding Deb’s hand. A tender kiss on  the cheek from a grandchild. A giggle from an oft-told joke that never stops being funny. Praying at mealtime. Hugs. Hearing “I love you”. A favorite song. Comfortable shoes. Sunshine. Blue skies. Fresh snowfall. Warm summer nights and dinner on the patio. The sound of rain on the roof.  A call home. A friendly voice. The smell of supper on the stove. A job well done. A goodnight kiss.

As I journey, I don’t need to “get somewhere”, I’m already there. This journey is not about arriving somewhere in the future, it’s about being here now.

Every kiss. Every tear. Every joy. Every heartache. Those are mine to share. TODAY.

Peace,

Denis