Family

Through The Eyes Of A Child

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Do you remember the anticipation of Christmas as a child? For me it was always an exciting time. I tried to patiently wait through the Advent season for the miracle of Christmas.

There were some certainties: practical gifts wrapped in white tissue from my great-aunts (usually socks or underwear), Christmas cookies baked by Mom, Christmas Day gatherings at my grandparents where all my aunts and uncles and cousins would be together.

And of course there were uncertainties: would I get the Erector Set® that I so desperately wanted, and the transistor radio like my brother’s (the one that I not-so-secretly coveted)? Rarely was I disappointed.

St. NickI loved Christmas presents but I knew even as a child that Baby Jesus was always at the center of it. We were raised to believe he would come (again) each year at Christmas. We set our crèche under the tree with all the characters (except baby Jesus of course until Christmas morning). We lit our Advent candles each week. St. Nicholas would come on December 6th and fill our stockings with an orange and some nuts, a peppermint stick and one Hershey® bar (thanks Dad!). At school we would pray and sing carols, collect money for the missions and go to daily Mass. My little Catholic world was secure. And there was abundant joy!

It brings me great comfort in knowing that my wife and I carried on these traditions with our kids. Now our grandkids are celebrating Advent and Christmas in a similar way. Of course they are excited about potential new toys but they also focus on the mystery of Christ’s birth and they pray and sing carols and go to Mass. St. Nicholas paid a visit to them on Sunday morning. They light their Advent wreath and wait. They wait in hope and joy and love.

I still have uncertainties in my life: they are more adult now, more complex, more troubling. Often it is hard not to become overwhelmed. Sometimes I feel desperate.

But I have certainties, too. I have people who love me. I have friends who are making our world a better place each day. My children and grandchildren give me hope for our future. So I light my Advent wreath and I pray for change in our world, in our church, in our city, in our home, in my heart.

I know that Christ will come again this Christmas. I wait with my grandchildren in hope and joy and love. And for just a little while I can see Baby Jesus through the eyes of a child. And I am blessed.

Peace,

Denis

 

An Attitude of Gratitude

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Sometimes it’s hard for me to be thankful.

I get caught up in all the tragedies of our world: the horror of violence, starvation, war, terrorism, hatred, disease and poverty. I often feel that my prayers for friends who are suffering seem shallow and rote. My futile attempts to ask for God’s mercy seem woefully inadequate in the face of such immense pain and suffering. And I feel numb and helpless. So much sadness; so much heartache; overwhelming misery. At times it really feels as if there is nothing for which to be thankful.thanks

Then I open my eyes! And my mind! And my heart! And I realize that have been given so much – my family, my friends. My beautiful wife of 40 years reminds me daily that we should ALL have an attitude of gratitude. All the sadness in this world is somehow manageable when I hold her in my arms. I become thankful once again for my job, our home, our food, but mostly for the love of one another. All the heartache is bearable when I hear my sons’ voices or hold my daughter’s hand. All my tears are washed away by the smiles, kisses and hugs of my grandchildren. All the hurt and disappointment in my life is diminished by the love of friends and family.

So yes, I’m thankful for those whom I love and those who love me. I’m thankful for those folks I’ve meet along this crazy journey of life. May we always carry one another’s burdens, share each others joys, wipe each others tears, and celebrate one another’s triumphs. We live in an imperfect world but we are perfected by love that we share. Awful things will always happen but those things shouldn’t define who we are. How we find our joy each day should be the measure of our worth.

I, for one, will continue to try to have an attitude of gratitude. My wish today is that you have a blessed and joyful Thanksgiving.

Peace,

Denis

 

Conditional Lover (but trying…)

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Conditional love is love that is ‘earned’ on the basis of conscious or unconscious conditions. In other words, if you do what I want or behave in a manner that is pleasing to me, I will love you. If not, then my love will be withheld. Sadly this is true for many of us; both those loving and those being loved. I’m not talking so much about romantic love here, although I suppose it works that way sometimes, too. I’m referring to our relationships with friends and colleagues. I’m thinking of work associates, neighbors, classmates, fellow parishioners, and friends.

Capture I often find myself questioning whether or not to spend time with someone because of something that was said or done that “rubbed me the wrong way”. There have been times that I judged someone simply because of who their friends are.  Worse yet, how about those people I avoid just because of their affiliations with certain political or religious groups? Not to mention the folks that I distance myself from simply because of age, race, ethnicity or income level. My justification – “I don’t hate them; I just don’t really like them.” or “I don’t have anything in common with these people.” or “I already have enough friends.”

In truth: My love is conditional. My conditions are simply not being met. And I own this. And it’s a shame.

So I’m   T  R  Y  I  N  G   to love unconditionally. But it’s not easy. Not for me anyway. Unconditional love – such an easy thing to say and such a hard thing to do. Loving without expecting to be loved in return. Kindness given without any expectation of kindness returned. I struggle with this every day.

And yet, I have been given countless examples of unconditional love in my life. Strangers who welcomed me; teachers who guided me; friends and family who have loved me during some pretty un-lovable times.

I think about the year that we lived in England. We were truly foreigners. We tentatively entered our little St. Peter Church in Cirencester for the first time not knowing what to expect. No proof of worthiness or commitment to financial support was required (or ever requested for that matter). Even with our funny American accents, we were loved by our priest “as we were” and embraced by our faith community “just because”.

I have a wife that loves me unconditionally. And I have friends and family that love me unconditionally, too. They’re not looking for anything from me (not that I can offer much anyway). My grandkids love me unconditionally. They just accept me as I am (and they like me this way). Which makes me want to be a better person because of their love.

So I’m going to keep trying to love unconditionally. So don’t be startled if I smile at you for no apparent reason. Don’t be surprised if I am kinder and gentler. And don’t be weirded-out if I give you a hug. And of course sometimes I’ll revert to being a jerk and then if you still love me I’ll know that your love is unconditional.

Loving unconditionally doesn’t guarantee that love will be returned. But it’s all the sweeter if it is.

Peace,

Denis

“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” Mark 12:31

Dias de Muertos

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In the U.S. on October 31st we celebrate Halloween as a time for children (and some adults) to go door to door begging for candy. With a cheery “Trick or Treat” the little beggars wait with their bags and buckets outstretched to receive their treat. Most households oblige. Some communities have moved “Halloween” to the Sunday afternoon before October 31st to avoid a dark night. Others have opted for “Trunk or Treat” which corrals families in a safe place such as a school or church parking lot. All of these activities are fun and none of them have much to do with the origin of Halloween or more accurately “All Hallows Eve”. All Hallows’ Eve is the day before the very important feast of All Saints Day in Western Christian traditions.

Trick or TreatIn early Christian tradition the night before All Saints was a time to honor the saints that have passed before us and folks often dressed as their patron saints and visited neighbors. I suppose this may have been the beginnings of today’s modern celebration of Halloween. How we went from honoring our dearly departed, and the saints to slogging around as zombies, vampires, witches, princesses, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and all other manner of characters, I have no idea. Still I think Halloween is harmless fun and most people handle it responsibly. Kids running around the neighborhood asking for candy is hardly a sign of a predilection to the occult. Some people seem to think that allowing children to “Trick or Treat” is tempting the devil. I say relax – no little girl or boy dressed as princess or a ninja is sacrificing animals at an altar. No one has traded their soul for a Snickers bar.

I admire the tradition of my friends in Mexico. They celebrate November 1st and 2nd as “Dias de Muertos” or days of the dead. It’s a time to remember and honor those saints in our own lives. Families gather in cemeteries and bring the favorite foods of their loved ones. Sometimes the food, flowers, and small gifts are left at the grave and at other times the friends and families will share the meal of favorite foods in honor the deceased.

I love the idea that someday when I’m gone from this world my children and grandchildren might gather at my grave and share a favorite food or drink, tell a joke, sing a favorite song and pray for my soul. Maybe it’s as superstitious and as silly as our modern Halloween traditions but I find comfort in knowing that I would not be forgotten. And if they leave some candy, I hope it’s chocolate.

Peace,

Denis

Women of Faith

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Recently during a virtual papal audience via satellite from the Vatican, Pope Francis called out to Sister Norma Pimentel who runs a welcome center in McAllen, Texas, which has served more than 20,000 asylum seeking immigrants.

“I want to thank you,” Francis said. “And through you to thank all the sisters of religious orders in the U.S. for the work that you have done and that you do in the United States. It’s great. I congratulate you. Be courageous. Move forward. I’ll tell you one other thing. Is it inappropriate for the Pope to say this? I love you all very much.“

Three of my aunts were Sisters of the Most Precious Blood and they were testaments to devotion, service, and joy in Christ. What amazing examples of faithfulness I was blessed with.

Circa 1957 That's me on Gene's lap - a happy place to be.

Noel, Gene Marie & Lucy with my grandparents, my brother, my cousins and my dad – circa 1957
(That’s me on Gene’s lap – a happy place to be.)

My three aunts, Lucida, Noel and Gene Marie, embodied all that is good about religious life. They were loving women who served God by serving others. They lived in community and shared their talents accordingly. They were intelligent women who were well-traveled and well-educated, not something to be taken for granted by women born in the 1910’s and 1920’s. They were teachers, administrators, catechists, and persons of authority. But to me they were simply my Aunts.

They were our family’s “Blessed Trinity”. They were honored guests and were afforded certain special privileges. When they would visit, Mom would be sure to make their favorite meals (particularly their favorite desserts). At my grandparents’ house it was always a treat when all three Sisters would visit at the same time. Growing up Catholic in the 1950’s and 60’s while having three aunts that were Sisters was the pinnacle of holiness for me – I wore it like a scapular medal. And I must admit that I bragged about it at school or with my friends. I remember that there were kids at school who were afraid of nuns but I knew how loving my aunts were and understood that the Sisters who taught us were also daughters, sisters and aunts, too. It was de-mystifying having nuns in our family. They were just like us (only holier). Some of my happiest childhood memories are laughing and playing with Lucy, Noel and Gene Marie.

Mom & Dad celebrating Gene's 60th year as a Religious Sister

My Mom & Dad with Aunt Gene ~ Celebrating her 70th year as a Religious Sister

As I grew, I understood the many sacrifices my aunts had made in serving God’s people. I was also keenly aware of the joy that they knew while living in community with their Sisters. They modeled for me a progressive faith; where service to others was the ultimate service to God. Instead of dogma and hierarchy; rules and regulations, their focus was on loving ALL of God’s creation. They taught me how to love even the unlovable (which sometimes included me).  There were times when I didn’t believe in God but I always believed in Lucy, Noel and Gene. Priests and bishops would come and go. Crises in our Church (mostly caused by men) would dominate the headlines but my Aunts remained steadfast. Perhaps they saw the folly in a “male only” clergy or perhaps they realized it was insignificant in the grand scheme of God’s promise. Even as cancer and Alzheimer’s took their lives, it didn’t distinguish their light.

They remain alive in my heart and in the thousands of lives that they each served. I for one will always be grateful for their unconditional love. And I share Pope Francis sentiments. “I love you all very much.”

Peace,

Denis

The He-Man Hideout

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I consider myself a feminist. My wife has always been my partner – my equal in all things. I raised my daughter to believe that she could achieve anything that she desired. I have supported women’s rights (equal pay/equal opportunity) in the workplace. I stand firmly against any and all discrimination against women.

And yet I love that my grandson and I enjoy the fun that we can only have because we’re boys.

Noah is big on gender identification. I’m not sure if this is learned or just in his nature. Example: he thinks boys or men should always have the blue clothes/cup/plate/bowl/crayon/toy while girls or women should have the pink whatever. He likes to group men and women separately: “The boys should sit on this side and the girls should sit on that side”. He is very happy when he and Daddy do “just boy things” together.

He loves his mommy and his sister and his Nana and his girl cousins but sometimes a boy just needs to be a boy. Whether that means playing in the dirt or climbing a tree (which girls can do with equal ability – just don’t tell Noah) or pretending to be a super-hero, a pilot, a carpenter or a policeman (again, all things girls can do, too). He just likes being a boy and likes to distinguish himself from the girls in his 4 year-old world.

bubby and meHe and I have a “He-Man Hideout” in my backyard. It’s really just a garden bench but it becomes an airplane cockpit or a super-hero mission control station or simply a hiding place where no girls are allowed (expect his sister who has been granted exclusivity). I’ll admit I cherish our time together on that bench, listening to his imaginative exhortations. He is the MAN IN CHARGE. At least in the He-Man Hideout.

I’m not too concerned that his adult years may be consumed by cigar bars or strip clubs or fraternities or any other all-male enclave. Good parenting and common sense will curb that unlikely possibility. I’m certain that he will grow up to be the thoughtful, loving and respectful man that his father is. He will love women for their strength, intelligence, kindness, and generosity, as well as their beauty (just look at the examples he has in his family).

Still there is something wonderful about being a boy in a boy’s world and I am thankful that he’s let me in on occasion.

Peace,

Denis

Anna Writes

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Our seven year-old granddaughter Anna likes to journal. She carries her journal with her most days and jots down notes or stories. She also sketches and adds drawings to some of her writings. Anna starts second grade this year and I don’t believe that her writing is extraordinary for a second grader but she writes because she loves to and I find that extraordinary. When I was in primary school I would never write during the summer months and each school year would begin with a challenging week or two trying to relearn what I had forgotten.

Anna may never be a gifted author but just loving to read and write will make her a better student; a better communicator; a better citizen; and a better person. And of course I believe that she is brilliant, so others’ opinions of Anna mean little to me.

Anna's blog post

The bottom line is this: Anna writes. She reads. She thinks. She reflects.

We as a society have become so used to instant gratification. Instant messaging. Instagram. I have more information at the click of a mouse or the touch of a screen than is housed at my local library. I carry microprocessors around in the form of my smart phone and tablet and yet at times it seems that I am stunningly unaware of the beauty around me. How often have I missed the song of birds in my own garden because my ear buds are plugged into my iPod? How often have I missed the smile of a stranger (or a loved one) because I have my face planted in my iPad as I read emails or text messages or Facebook posts? How often have I neglected someone “in person” while chatting away on my iPhone?

Anna WritesDon’t get me wrong: Technology is wonderful. Abundant information makes for informed consumers and citizens. But sometimes we have to experience life – real life – with all our senses. We need to see, hear, touch, taste, and smell all of God’s creation. We need to unplug. Quiet ourselves. Read a book. Listen to nature. Hold a hand. Share a meal.

And then maybe we can pick up a pencil and write about our experiences.

Anna does.

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

Come To The Water

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baptismWater gives life.

Our lives begin in water. Water makes up 60-70% of our bodies. Water covers 70% of the Earth’s surface. Plants need water to grow. Fish need water to swim. Animals and humans need water to drink. Human beings can survive for weeks or even months without food but only days without water. Water is essential for life on Earth.

Water destroys.

Flooding devastates homes, crops, and at times kills human and animal life. Flash floods can develop in just a few minutes and without visible signs of rain. Drowning in the United States is the second leading cause of death in children 12 and younger. Tsunamis and tidal waves can wipeout nearly everything in their paths.

Water fascinates.

Most people are drawn to water. Swimming pools and water parks draw millions everyday. Water fountains, pond pumps and sprinklers dot our landscapes. Ocean-front and lake-front properties are sold at a premium. We spend precious vacation time getting to beach destinations just to play in the water. Boating, skiing, canoeing, kayaking and various other water recreations vie for our time and money.

Yesterday, as our youngest grandchild Ainsley was being baptized, I was thinking about how basic water is to our human existence; how ordinary; how necessary; how miraculous.

It’s fitting then that Baptism requires water. Through the waters of Baptism we are born to new life in Christ and sin is destroyed. After Baptism we live the rest of our lives fascinated by God’s unending power to transform our lives. Baptism isn’t a one-time event. It’s an invitation to “play in the water”. To immerse ourselves in the love around us. To refresh ourselves when our journey becomes burdensome. To cleanse ourselves when darkness overtakes our spirit. The life-giving water of Baptism never leaves us. It remains essential for our life on Earth.

cousinsMy prayer for Ainsley is that her life will be filled with love, peace and joy. And that she will always know that she has been strengthened by the power of that baptismal water. We have all been blessed by having experienced it with her.

Peace,

Denis

Ainsley, I hope you find your wings. Love, Pawpaw

 

 

 

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