God

Braving the Cold

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

While cursing the cold the other day I realized that in our neighborhood only us old guys shovel the snow from our driveways. We, the heart attack prone, arthritis afflicted, RSV susceptible old-timers, feel compelled to clear the snow from our driveways and walkways. The young people just drive over it. Their lack of concern for neatness and order seems nearly criminal. They just drive off to jobs and other necessary destinations, while I sit and look smugly out my window at my neatly shoveled ‘driveway to nowhere’. I don’t need to leave my house. We are retired. Our pantry in stocked and we have food in the freezer likely older than some of the non-shoveling miscreants who I grudgingly consider my neighbors.

A well shoveled driveway

What if I decide that I must leave the house? Or what shame might I feel if we had an unexpected visitor who had to traverse the dangers of an uncleared walkway? I will shovel! My Dad was a shoveler. He took pride in his ability to clear the snow, and I will carry on that tradition. I suppose the younger generation doesn’t want to brave the elements to conquer their snow-covered driveways and sidewalks. They don’t dress in layers and get booted-up to prove their worth. They just hit the APP on their phones to auto-start their cars. And then drive off with abandon in pre-heated luxury.

While being somewhat amused with my inner curmudgeon, I realize that perspective matters. The younger families must get to where they need to be – driveway be damned! What appears to me to be laziness is probably someone hurriedly trying to get to a job or to get a sick child to a doctor or to help an older parent clear their walkway. Perhaps I could offer to help them. Or at least mind my own business.

Funny thing about judging others, God usually forces me to look in the mirror at some point. That’s when I really need to brave the cold. The cold, hard truth that I have prejudged others. Fortunately, God even forgives sinners like me.

Peace,

Denis

Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own eye? Matthew 7:3

God With Us

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

Emmanuel is a Hebrew word that is made up of two parts: “Immanu” meaning “with us”, and “el” meaning God. So together, Emmanuel means “God with us.” The name Emmanuel reminds us that Jesus is not distant, but intimately present in our lives. It speaks to our need for connection with God. Here. Now. And forever.

At Christmas, my focus is often on Baby Jesus. The infant in the creche, the helpless child and his weary parents: homeless, alone and frightened. While I sit comfortably in my warm home surrounded by Christmas decorations and gifts and an excess of food, it’s challenging to relate to Jesus’ humble beginning. But then I think of my children as infants and the overwhelming concern I had for them. I remember too, my feelings of inadequacy. My need to protect them was constant, as was my fear of failure in trying to do so. I can only imagine how Joseph must have felt; disappointed at his inability to provide shelter; uncertain of his future with Mary and Jesus; fearful that he might fail.

During Advent we are reminded that we aren’t just awaiting the birth of our Savior in Bethlehem. We are also anticipating the awakening of our spirits in Christ, and His final coming at the end of time. When I reflect on those things I realize that I encounter Jesus every day. At Christmas we’re given new hearts capable of greater love. Our obstinance and unkindness can be removed. We can be free from our hearts of stone.

Recently, while Christmas shopping, I asked a cashier how she was holding up. I simply meant with the Christmas rush, the long hours, and the constant customer demands. She proceeded to tell me that she was having a tough time this year as this was the first Christmas without her husband. She said he had died on December 28th the previous year and she had taken this temporary job just to avoid Christmas preparations alone this year. She was just trying to “stay busy” and not focus on his absence. As her eyes filled with tears, I felt her pain. It was then that I was once again remembered that God’s law of Love is written on our hearts. I meekly said, “please take of yourself this Christmas”. I left the store not certain if I had comforted her, but I felt honored that she saw me as someone with whom she could share her pain.

Our ability to be Christians is only accomplished in the life and death of God’s only Son, Jesus Christ. When we turn to Christ and receive forgiveness from our sins, then God dwells within us, and we can be Christ to one another. It is then that we too become Emmanuel.

This Christmas be assured that God is with you. Sometimes all we need to do is look in the mirror.

Peace,

Denis

Therefore, the Lord himself will give you a sign; the young woman, pregnant and about to bear a son, shall name him Emmanuel. Isaiah 7:14

I’ll Give It a Go!

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

“Give it a go” is an expression I heard many times while living in England in 2012. Of course, it’s not too difficult to translate. It means “give it a try” or “take a chance” or “go for it”. My workmates often implored me to “just give it a go” when I felt unsure of myself or a particular situation. Usually, it was when we were in Italy or Germany or Spain working on a project, and my workmates had no more confidence in their ability than I had in mine. I’m still not sure if they were encouraging me or whether they were just afraid to “give it a go” themselves. Manufacturing and construction terms are confusing in Europe (even in English). I learned quickly that hoarding, skips, and trolleys are actually barricades, dumpsters and dollies. Regardless, I usually “gave it a go” and most times things worked out. Perhaps Europeans were bemused by my complete ignorance of permitting, safety and labor requirements in their countries, or they admired my pluck, except the Germans, they clearly seemed annoyed by my ineptitude. Somehow though, I survived the year, and projects were completed, and my workmates had my back (I think).

Because we were in England for most of 2012 several of our friends visited throughout the year. Even with the rigors of working in foreign countries and missing our home, knowing that another visitor would soon be coming to stay for a while sustained us and helped make our time away from home feel like an extended vacation. A highlight was when our daughter, son-in-law and two grandchildren came for a three-week visit. Anna was only four years old, and Noah was not quite two. Adults don’t change much in a year, but oh, those babies…

We made the most of our time with Anna and Noah and their parents during their visit. I was able to take some time off from work and we enjoyed the English countryside. We lived in the Cotswolds, so it was it literally outside our backdoor. In the mornings Anna would watch television and enjoy some of the shows she watched at home, Peppa Pig, Olivia, and some other cartoons all dubbed in British English. We were used to watching British television and had become accustomed to the accents, but we still struggled to understand some phrases.

One day on the third week of their visit we went to a petting farm near our home. On the day that we visited there happened to be a group of preschoolers. Anna nestled in amongst them. When the attendant at the farm asked if any of the children would like to feed a goat, Anna’s little arm shot up in the air as she exclaimed, “I’ll give it a go!” We were all nonplussed. Where had she learned that phrase? I never used it myself. It was something I had heard plenty of times at work but never spoke those words. Had Anna heard it from Olivia or Peppa Pig? We’ll never know. But what we do know is that this precious little four-year-old acclimated to her surroundings in three short weeks. This is something that I had struggled to do for months.

And there’s the lesson. Children learn. Children adapt. Children are not afraid of new adventures. They can lead us to the truth if we can just open our eyes and our hearts and our minds. We can lift up our world by their example if we can get past ourselves and let go of our fears and prejudices. We can accept change. We can embrace our differences and know that our diversity only makes us stronger. And our diversity reflects the true image of God.

Anna taught me so much that day. I can still smell the straw and the goats and lambs. I can still hear her tiny voice, so confident, so capable, so strong. She was undaunted. She knew the right thing to say. And she gave it a go!

Peace,

Denis

Jesus said, “Let the children come to me, and do not prevent them; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14

Peace Be With You (and also with me?)

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

In a Catholic mass we offer the “Sign of Peace” to one another. It’s typically a polite and friendly gesture of greeting which often includes shaking hands. The celebrant says to the congregation “Peace be with you” and then everyone responds, “and also with you.” We are then invited to offer peace to one another. Then we turn to our fellow congregants and say, “Peace” or “Peace be with you”. Not an insignificant gesture but it sometimes feels rote or worse, awkward if the person next to appears to be nonreceptive.

Often, I feel conflicted when offering peace. There is currently so much angst in my heart and head that peacefulness seems unattainable and offering it to others seems insincere. The moral, economic and political divisions in our country today are greater than any other time in my adult life. So many in our nation are victims of xenophobia, racism, sexism, antisemitism, and homophobia. The recent hurricanes and natural disasters only add to the suffering of millions. It’s hard to not fall into despair. Why is there so much that is so wrong? Why are so many people embracing hatred and vitriol? And why are some politicians ratchetting up the hate and fear? Where are the better angels of our nature that Abraham Lincoln spoke of so eloquently?

How can I, a flawed, sinful and desperate man, offer peace? This isn’t easy, but I believe that I must begin with me. To “reconcile” means to rebuild; reconnect; to be at peace. To embrace my suffering and try to understand the suffering of others, I’ll have to try to be more loving; more caring; more respectful; and less judgmental. I’ll have to shut my mouth and open my ears and more importantly my heart. And offer myself some peace before I can extend it to others.

In her book, “Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope, and Repair”, Anne Lamott writes: “My understanding of Incarnation is that we are not served by getting away from the grubbiness of suffering. Sometimes we feel that we are barely pulling ourselves forward through a tight tunnel on badly scraped-up elbows. But we do come out the other side, exhausted and changed. To heal, it seems we have to stand in the middle of the horror, at the foot of the cross, and wait out another’s suffering where that person can see us.“

This is my challenge: To make the “The Sign of Peace” more than just some friendly, smiling, handshaking, muttering of peace-be-with-you. I will ask God with each encounter to lift me out of my despair; to embrace me with love and kindness toward others. And to bring peace, if only briefly, to each soul that I encounter.

Peace,

Denis

Fearful, confused, yet still hopeful

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

When our son Blake was a boy, I worried more about him than his older brother and sister. This was the child that questioned everything and needed to have answers that were more than the standard “because I said so”.

When he was about seven years old, he disassembled the lamp in his room. When I him asked why, he told me that he was trying to see how it worked. After conversations about electrical currency and positivity and negativity and his serious risk of shock, he said that he would put the lamp back together. I doubt that I answered his questions about how electricity worked but he relented. He was inquisitive; I was afraid. He had sleepless nights worrying about his brother’s Jewish friend when he learned in kindergarten that Jesus was our Savior. What about his brother’s friend? Would he not get into heaven? I was flummoxed; he was afraid. When Blake would play outside, I kept a keen eye on him. He would climb trees and fences and perform other feats of derring-do. Always challenging the limits of physics and gravity, he was his own test subject. I would shout, “Be careful, or you’ll skin your innis.” His embarrassed and astonished response was often, “What’s an innis?” My response was always the same: “You’ll know when you skin it!” Our little game became a ritual, but it reinforced our fear, confusion and ultimate hopefulness. Somehow, embracing his fears while looking for answers, time and time again he would survey the risks, do it again and survive. And I would I gain another gray hair.

Recently I attended a meeting with a group of thoughtful people struggling with our current political situation in the United States. The stated purpose of our gatherings is to find transforming grace; to establish practices that will help us journey toward that grace. For me, there have been a few roadblocks. The current ‘us against them’ sentiment in our country makes it hard for me to reach beyond my own feelings; my own needs; my own fears. Politicians seem to be telling me that I should vote for or support a candidate or a position “because I told you so.” I am not okay with that.

I’m taking a page out of young Blake’s playbook. I’m going to push past my fears. I’m going to try to get to the truth. And I’m going to continue to love others with whom I disagree. It might take some feats of derring-do, but I’ll state my positions and put that bumper sticker on my car. I’ll listen. I’ll debate. I’ll pray, I’ll vote my conscience.

At the end of the day, I’m still afraid of the risk of losing our democracy. I’m confused why there is so much hate in our world, especially in the name of God. But I’m hopeful because many of the young people that I know are not afraid of immigrants or diversity or change. They were allowed as children to swing from those trees and jump off those fences. And when they fell and “skinned their innises” they got up and tried again. I might be overly optimistic, but I believe that truth and love will prevail.

Peace,

Denis

Judging

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

Often, I think others are being judgmental. I look down on the “judgers”. How dare they make assumptions about me and those whom I love! Who are they to judge? They don’t know my circumstances or beliefs. They don’t know my history. They don’t understand what I find intolerable or what I hold dear. They make their assumptions because of my sex, my age, my race, my marital status, my nationality, my neighborhood, my faith. And it is tiring to constantly have to explain myself. Believe what you will judgers! You haven’t walked my path.

Then I judge. In my heart I know that I do. I judge people by their appearance, their age, the kind of car they drive, the neighborhood they live in, the way they speak and on and on. The very thing that bothers me about others is something that I am constantly doing myself.

It is so easy to think that others are being judgmental without ever looking in the mirror. In our polarized society, it is understandable to embrace an “us versus them” mentality. But it’s wrong. I know that. My heart and my head tell me it’s sinful and shameful to judge others, but I do it anyway. Almost instinctively, I find myself sizing folks up. Do they look like me? Do they speak intelligently? Do they conduct themselves in a manner that I find acceptable? Do they share my beliefs, my goals, my perception of what life should be?

I have a dear friend who once said to me, “I just look like this”. It was a simple and profound statement that declared to the world that she need not fit into anyone else’s expectation of who or what she should be. I love her for that and so much more. And I have used her statement myself. The challenge is to remember that everyone I meet “just looks like this”. I sometimes (okay, almost always) judge the folks on those electric carts in the supermarket and discount stores. Are they really disabled? Or just too big to carry themselves comfortably? Do they abuse the privilege because it’s just easier to cruise through the big box store rather than trek the miles down each aisle on foot? It is shameful, judgmental and ignorant of me. But there I stand judging.

I judge folks when I see them flying flags upside down. I judge people by the bumper stickers on their cars. I judge my neighbors by the way the keep their lawns and gardens. I judge others who declare themselves Pro-Life and Pro-Guns. I judge others who appear too pious. I judge others who seem blasphemous. I judge others who seem slovenly. I judge others who seem to be obsessed with their appearance. I’m kind of an all-purpose judger. And when I point that finger there are four more pointed back at me!

Currently I am experiencing an impinged nerve. And it’s painful. So, I’m limping and moaning and have had to accept much help from others, which I don’t like to do. My wife has been very patient while dealing with my impatience. My son-in-law, one of my heroes, helped get me to a much-needed doctor’s appointment. I probably received some stares from the neighbors as I stumbled around my yard looking inebriated. I’ve likely received some looks of pity or disgust from strangers seeing this old dude walking stiff legged and unsteady. If this pain does anything for me, I hope that it is a reminder that I am too quick to judge others. I know that it is wrong. I realize that it separates me from others for no reason other than my own pride.

Who am I to judge when the One who is judge of all keeps forgiving me? I hope and I pray for empathy. I ask God to help me be more loving and accepting of others. And I ask for forgiveness when I judge again tomorrow.

Peace,

Denis

“Stop judging, that you may not be judged. For as you judge, so will you be judged, and the measure with which you measure will be measured out to you.” Matthew 7:1-2

Put Me in Coach

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Someone once told me that there are three types of people:

  • People who make things happen.
  • People who watch things happen.
  • And people who say, “What happened?”

Too often I have found myself in that third group. Not even aware of what is going on around me. Perhaps my ‘head in the sand’ attitude is a coping mechanism or maybe I’m just obtuse. Either way, it’s not a great way to live. I try to be aware of what’s going on in my community, my country, my world, but I feel sometimes that I am bombarded with information. And sorting truth from fiction is challenging to say the least. Which news source is reliable? Which social media outlet is trustworthy? Which friends and neighbors are well-informed and honest? At times it seems everyone has an agenda, so I shut down and shut it all out and find myself asking, “What happened?”

Then I spend time with my role models, and I realize I can make things happen. Maybe not grand things or important things, but I can be a positive change in my world. A ripple. A moment. A witness.

My grandson plays baseball. He’s one of the smaller kids on his team. He’s not a power hitter. But he plays with so much heart. He gets out there every game and gives it his all. I was always too timid to play sports as a kid. Fear of injury. Fear of failure. Fear of ridicule. But Noah swings that bat with such determination. He fields, he steals bases, he contributes to his team in a positive way. He’s blessed to have a great coach and equally blessed to have parents who remind him to listen to his coach. He gets better with every trip to the plate. And I am reminded that if Noah makes things happen, I can to!

My granddaughter recently made her First Communion. She worked hard this past year to learn about the sacrament and to prepare herself. She had some apprehension on the day she received. I’m not certain if she was afraid of the pomp and circumstance of the day or if she was not sure about the change she might feel after receiving Jesus for the first time. Was she concerned about a misstep or a forgotten word or gesture? Or was it just that her new shoes were a little slippery and wearing a veil and a fancy dress felt a bit overwhelming? Regardless she made it down the aisle and appeared angelic and lit up the church with her smile. It was accomplished. She was received. And for a moment we all shared in that glimpse of heaven before us. I know if Gwen could overcome her fear, I can to!

When I look at these two, I am reminded of the blessings I have received in this life. I’m not gifted. I’m not wealthy. I’m not terribly bright. But I have the ability to make things happen. In my small way, I can be a force for good. I can do the right thing. I can work for justice by voting for persons of integrity. I can volunteer to help those in greater need than my own. I can listen. I can pray. I can act.

And I’m going to keep swinging that bat and walking down that aisle until I get it right.

Who knows? Maybe someday I can make a ripple; have a moment; be a witness.

Peace,

Denis

I Don’t Want To…

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

I have a plaque in my office that reads, “LOVE GOD. LOVE OTHERS.” Sometimes it brings me great comfort. It reminds me of the friend who gave it to me, which brings a smile to my heart. It helps me remember to be kind. To love.

But honestly, sometimes it annoys me with its sanguine message. Often it challenges me. I don’t want to love others. Most days, I want to be angry, cynical and self-righteous. Love others? Even that obnoxious checker at The Neighborhood Walmart? The kid next door with the diesel truck rumbling at 5:30 AM? The lady at Mass on Sunday who informed me that she didn’t want any children sitting next to her, as I was trying to usher a family to their pew? My political adversaries? The guy at The Home Depot who couldn’t manage to control his dog from getting too friendly with my backside? Bad drivers? I don’t want to love any of those “others”!

As often happens, I stop and realize how foolish I am. As I reflect on my pride and stubbornness and a God who forgives me, I know that I can and must love others, even those annoying so-and-sos. Because many of them have loved me. And God always loves me even when I fail to love in return.

For years we have laughed about the time our grandson Noah, who was three or four years old, didn’t want to wear a collared shirt because in his tearful words, “I don’t want to be fancy!”. He didn’t want to get dressed up for whatever the occasion. He wanted to stay in his play clothes. He didn’t want to be stifled. He wanted to stay in his comfort zone. Getting “fancy” was going to challenge his very existence. You can’t run or throw a ball or tumble on the ground in a collared shirt. Despite his protests, he indeed wore that shirt and somehow, he survived it all. In truth, I would have caved in and let him wear what he wanted but his parents taught him a lesson that day. One that I am struggling to learn.

So today, I will try again to love others. It’s easy to love my family and friends. It’s easy to love those who share my values and my beliefs. It’s easy to love people in need who I see on the news or on social media. They’re distant and untouchable. It’s easy to love people through donations to charitable organizations. I’m shielded from their pain and suffering.

The tough ones to love are the family across the street who don’t keep their yard tidy; the lady who runs the red light; the Congressman who refuses to answer my emails; the person who pushed in front of me at the checkout counter; the family member who I no longer speak to because of political differences; the woman who loudly used profanity in a very crowded public place. And the man that I sometimes see in the mirror.

“I don’t want to…” But I’m trying. Loving others might make me uncomfortable at times. It certainly will push me out of my comfort zone. Loving those with whom I disagree doesn’t mean I have to abandon my beliefs. It might just free me to love more deeply, even if I shed a few tears in the process.

Thanks for the lesson, Noah.

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 the love we share with our dear friends; it’s a good day to say, “I love you”.

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.

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 at Easter. And maybe, just maybe, it’s better to honor the saints living among us than some saint from antiquity.

We can 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 partner with a little more passion. Send a note to someone you’ve neglected. Call a friend just to say hello. Put yourself out there. Smile at a stranger. Offer a kind word to someone you meet. Risk your pride. Reach across the aisle. Mend a quarrel. Carry a load. Take a chance. Change your mind. Change your heart. Make peace. Love God. Love others.

Peace (and Love)

Denis

Faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.          

Aging Gracefully (or At Least Trying)

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

Society seems to be obsessed with youth. Slogans like ‘Sixty Is the New Forty’ attempt to convince us that we are still young regardless of our age. Afterall, if 60 is the new 40, then 80 should be the new 60 and 100 should be 80. We are bombarded with advertisements for anti-aging lotions, hair dye, vegetable supplements, weight loss programs and Botox injections. Not to mention the medication to improve our memory and hearing aids so we can better hear the commercials informing us about what we need to stay young. Aging is inevitable, so why not do it with grace and dignity. I’m trying…

Of course, one could argue that if 60 is the new 40, then 30 is the new 15, which may explain why our neighbors’ 30-something children, who are still living at home, have failed to launch. I remember that I couldn’t wait to reach the milestone ages of 16 and 21 and 30. Even 40 was fun-ish. I look at my neighbors in amazement and think about my life as a 30-year-old: married, three kids, full-time jobs, mortgage debt and car payments, utilities, school tuition, etc., etc. I wouldn’t trade those hectic (borderline manic) years for anything! We didn’t think much about the future back then. Our life was day to day. We survived and our children thrived. We were never rich, but we were never really poor. Our blessings weren’t monetary. Our riches were friendship, faith and family.

I must admit that my physical aches and pains are more frequent as the clock continues to tick. My hair is white. My waistline is expanding. But I don’t feel much different than I did at 40. I have the luxury of a less hectic life now as I contemplate the future. I’m about a year away from 70 and there was a time when that seemed really old. Now I look at my friends who are in their 80’s and 90’s who have so much left to do; so much more to share. I’m personally waiting for the wisdom which is supposed to come with old age because I have some things to accomplish as well. I suppose I must get older because wisdom continues to elude me.

A dear friend shared this scripture with me recently and I’ll admit we shared a chuckle about the loss of hair color:

Rejoice, O youth, while you are young and let your heart be glad in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart, the vision of your eyes. Yet understand regarding all this that God will bring you to judgment. Banish misery from your heart and remove pain from your body, for youth and black hair are fleeting. Ecclesiastes 11:9-10

Youth is fleeting! Embrace life at all ages; let your heart be glad! Sometimes I see my dad’s reflection in the mirror, and it hits me that I really am a senior citizen. Embracing life at this age can be challenging, banishing misery from my heart and removing pain from my body isn’t that easy.

But here’s my solution: Memories. I have a lifetime of memories. Some are melancholy but most are beautiful. Many are sublime. They carry me to precious moments in time. Seeing my bride walk down the aisle; the smell of sweet baby milk-breath on our infant children; watching with pride and uneasiness as our kids grew up and moved on; holding on to our loved ones as they passed from this world to the next. Those memories sustain me. That’s the beauty and grace of growing older. The older we get the more memories we have. The more memories we have, the more grace we are afforded.

I want my grandchildren to follow the ways of their hearts and the vision of their eyes and to create memories that will last their lifetimes. Recently my wife and I were reminiscing about days gone by and I realized it’s truly a gift that the happy memories make the sad ones tolerable. Gratitude outweighs regret. Love conquers all. I’ll take the wrinkles and the white hair and all the rest as long as they are served up with cherished memories while I have my partner at my side. Right here. Right now.

Peace,

Denis