life

Holidays, holidays and Bank Holidays…

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

No one in the U.K. takes a vacation. They go on holiday (small “h” – pronounced “haytch”). Which is, you know, a vacation. We celebrate Holidays in the U.S. – Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, etc. (capital “H” – pronounced “aytch”). And then there are Bank Holidays in the U.K. which are similar to our Holidays; Boxing Day, Whit Monday, and St. David’s Day (in Wales) to name a few. So here in England we go on holiday and we have Holidays but those are called Bank Holidays. Are you still following me? It all gets very complicated for this American.

Dancing in honour of Her Majesty in Warwickshire

Of course the Bank Holiday that we’re most looking forward to here in the United Kingdom is The Queen’s Jubilee. Next Monday and Tuesday we will have two days to celebrate Elizabeth II’s 60 years on the throne. Already many towns and villages have begun celebrations. Union Jacks and bunting abound! Street fairs, barbeques, and garden parties are being held in honour of Her Majesty.

But it has occurred to me that celebrations for Elizabeth’s Jubilee are not that different from our Memorial Day celebrations in the U.S. in the sense that the reason for the holiday seems to sometimes be lost in the revelry. Do we really pause on Memorial Day to remember our fallen heroes – those who have offered the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom? Is the dancing at the beer gardens in the village pubs truly a celebration of the Queen’s realm? I’m not so certain.

Memorial Day tends to be the official kick-off of summer in the United States. Swimming pools open. Burgers and corn-on-cob are grilled. School is out (or almost). Shorts, T-shirts and flip-flops are the order of the day. Of course we wave a flag or two but mostly it’s a day off work for most folks and a nice day to enjoy the outdoors.

I suppose that it doesn’t matter if EVERYONE celebrates the Holiday (or Bank Holiday, if you will) as it is intended. Lots of folks enjoy a day off at Christmas and it doesn’t diminish my celebration of my Saviour’s birth.

So grab a flag (or grab a beer) and hail the Queen or honour your war heroes. And remember at some point if you can’t give thanks for those being honoured on these special days, at least be thankful for the politicians who had the good sense to set aside some days for rest and celebration. You see – government’s not all bad.

Cheers,

Denis

Ten Things Americans Should Know About England

/ Denis Wilhelm / 4 Comments

After living here for 4 months, I am now of course an expert on all things British. Please don’t be intimidated by my vast knowledge of the culture, the geography, the history and the people of this great place; this Great Britain. Just learn from my wisdom.

Here are (in my exalted opinion) the top ten things Americans should know about England:

  1. Brits don’t understand (or care to understand) anything about American baseball. Don’t try to explain it to them, it will only make you crazy (or in English parlance: mad). Really, don’t bother.
  2. No one in England drinks beer from a bottle. They may drink it from a (sometimes less than clean) glass at a dodgy pub but they won’t drink it from a bottle. Only Americans and Barbarians drink beer from bottles.
  3. Left is right. The origin of driving on the left allegedly has something to do with jousting but that sounds like bollocks to me. I think it’s retaliation for our Independence from England – that and the bloody roundabouts. Just remember to stay on the left and yield to the right – you’ll be fine.
  4. “I need to spend a penny.” A quaint expression meaning ‘to use a public toilet’. Never leave the house without 20 or 30 pence in your pocket. Most toilets don’t give change and none take bills even though there have been times I would have gladly paid £5 for much-needed relief.
  5. People are really very friendly. If you’re in London you may not encounter the most welcoming folks but it’s no different from New York. When’s the last time someone in New York held a door for you or smiled at you? Plus the majority of people you’ll encounter in London are likely tourists. If you want friendly, come to the towns and villages. People there are truly nice; proud of their homes; and happy to meet you. Plus a pint is cheaper in a pub in the Cotswolds or Midlands than some posh pub in Central London.
  6. Don’t wear big white tennis shoes. Also don’t wear your favourite team’s jersey or T-shirt unless of course it’s Manchester United or Liverpool (but then you could still be in for a fight). The white tennis shoes and “I love Opryland” T-shirt just makes you a target for ridicule, not to mention pick-pockets.
  7. Brown Sauce. The most popular brand, HP, has a malt vinegar base, blended with tomato, dates, tamarind, and spices. Good on everything, particularly fish and chips.
  8. Garden Centres. Not to be confused with the garden center at your local Home Depot or Lowes. This is not just an area of the parking lot cordoned off for seasonal sales of shrubberies and manure.  These are permanent structures with toys, apparel, garden furniture, giftware, butcher counters, bakeries, wine bars, cafes and playgrounds for the kiddies. Additionally they sell plants, flowers, shrubberies and all other garden necessities.
  9. “You alright?” The equivalent to our “Morning, how are ya?” or “Hi!” No real response is expected here. Just a “Hi” or “Fine, and you?” will suffice. Or “Okay.” It’s one of those mindless greetings that we are all familiar with. No one really wants to know ‘how you are’ or ‘if you are alright’.
  10. Long Live The Queen! Although it’s been bandied-about that the Royalty is outdated or unnecessary; don’t be confused. She’s beloved. She’s an institution. And Elizabeth has NEVER brought dishonor to the Crown. Suggestions that she should step down and let Charles become King are ridiculous and American. Her Diamond Jubilee is receiving more press here than the 2012 London Olympics. Plus two days off work!

Who can resist the charm of an English pub?

I hope that this helps those of you that are planning travel here, or even better, those of you contemplating “taking the plunge” and actually moving here as we have.

We’re traveling to Paris this weekend and then I have business in Portugal next week. Stay tuned for my Continental wisdom. Rick Steves – watch your back!

Cheers,

Denis

Little Peeper

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Thirty two years ago my life was changed forever. Our daughter Elizabeth Grace Wilhelm was born. It seems like yesterday – she was like a rosebud wrapped in a blanket. 6 bs. 10 oz. & 18″ long. So tiny. So pink. So beautiful.

Elizabeth Grace was too big a name for such a tiny little girl – almost at once she became Bess and because of her big blue eyes I often called her Peeper. She stole my heart and I was immediately wrapped securely around her tiny little finger. Speaking for all daddies of daughters – it’s a place we love to be!

Bess has been trying to “get big” her whole it seems. As a toddler she wanted to be as big as older brother Tyson and for a while at about age 10 or 12 she might have been a half-inch taller (although there seems to be significant debate concerning that assertion). At age 3 she became a big sister to baby brother Blake and assumed the role with confidence. A favorite family photo is one of her holding baby Blake while she is really still a baby herself.

Bess then...

Always the peace-maker and diplomat of the family. She has made the boys be better brothers by her very existence. She is the heart and soul of our family. Her beauty, like her mother’s, comes from deep within – she makes everyone she encounters better for having known her. She is her mother’s daughter!

And she’s fun and funny! Laughter has always been held in high regard in our family and she has provided much of it through the years. She’s almost as funny as I am.

She was a determined student and athlete. Although she was smaller than most of her classmates she never “took a backseat” to anyone in her class. Playing basketball when you’re 5′-1″ takes guts (sorry Bess – I know that you’re really 5′-2″). She graduated at the top of her high school class and went on to win scholarships to the University of Wisconsin where she graduated with a double major.

She’s now a wife and mother of two and that is without doubt her greatest accomplishment. Her daughter and son are reflections of the love that she and Travis share. Their faith, their love, their hope for the future is wrapped up in those two wonderful little creatures. Amazing!

...and now.

So there you have it. She is big now. Big life. Big dreams. Big hope. Big love.

But today she’s still my little girl. My Little Peeper. And I hope she never gets “too big” for that.

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Peeper, I’m glad you’re my Peeper, Happy Birthday! – Love, Dad

A Scone By Any Other Name Would Taste As Sweet

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

One of our big concerns about moving across the pond was the food. To be honest, English food is not universally renowned. Oh, of course there’s Yorkshire pudding and fish and chips but beyond that most non-Brits can’t name a single English dish that they’ve ever eaten and enjoyed or more importantly ever ordered in a restaurant.

It turns out that we have been pleasantly surprised. Not only have we found some lovely pubs (for the record ‘pub’ is a misnomer – most pubs are more like casual restaurants that happen to sell ales) but we have also discovered some fabulous ‘green grocers’ (produce shops).  And the full-line grocery stores that we’ve shopped have great meat, dairy (especially cheeses) and bakery – not to mention the puddings!

Add to all of this the fact that Deb is a fantastic cook and there’s a very good chance that I will come home weighing an additional stone or two.

Last night at dinner we discussed the fact that we haven’t missed any foods from home. Not one – not once. Plus with the availability of inexpensive French and Italian wines we’ve been dining like royalty.

Much of the food here is the same as what we’re used to in the States. But there are notable exceptions:

  • Scones – scones here are not the giant Starbucks variety, which are often coated in sugar. Instead they are typically small, round, dense delights that sometimes have sultanas baked in but I think that the best ones are plain. Simply delicious with a cup of tea.
  • Carrots – carrots are small, sweet, and fresh. None of the little whittled-down type that are washed and ready to eat that we find at home (which seem to have been bleached of all germs and taste).
  • Beef – British beef is wonderfully marbled and red. Brits don’t seem to be afraid of a little fat (hence the concern about gaining an extra stone or two).
  • Chicken – It tastes like chicken from when I was a kid. Maybe it’s not raised in a ‘poultry factory’ over here.
  • Swedes – A root vegetable, that can be mashed, roasted, baked – always delicious.
  • Meat Pies – What can I say? See beef and chicken above.
  • Ginger Beer – A soft drink; like rootbeer but with an attitude.
  • Puddings – Actually all desserts are called puddings here but the real puddings; those delectable concoctions of sponge cake and warm sauce are a little slice of heaven. I love them all – Sticky Toffee, Chocolate, Caramel with Pecan Sauce. Yum, yum, yum!

So we’re eating well and learning to love some new foods along the way. I’ll continue to thank God for all the blessings on our table. Now if I could just master holding my fork in my left hand then I could dine like a proper Brit. 

Happy Eating!

Denis

Oaksey Is Not London

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My business cards say London, but I live in Oaksey, Wiltshire. Even my office doesn’t “live” in London. My office is in Swindon which is about an hour west of Heathrow (but Swindon doesn’t have much of a ring to it). Oaksey is about another half hour west of Swindon.

I’ve been to London several times and I love London but I’m truly much happier living out here in The Cotswolds. Because Swindon is to London what St. Charles is to St. Louis and Oaksey is like living in Defiance or Cottleville thirty years ago. So it’s more “my speed”. Quiet country living. Wide open spaces. The occasional sheep. Even so, all of this will still take some getting used to.

Today we had a little setback trying to get to Saint Peters Catholic Church in Cirencester for Mass. The road (the only one that I knew) was closed for repaving. We tried to figure another way around but we were unsuccessful and soon headed back to Oaksey (not necessarily on purpose). I’m sure God has already forgiven us – next week we’ll try again. This afternoon I walked around the village and was able to be with God in a special way – that’s sacrament, too.

Deb and I are learning new things each day – for instance  a trolley is a shopping cart. And the cashiers at the grocer aren’t all handicapped. They’re allowed to sit down to do their job. And you have to go up to the bar to order in most pubs – they’ll allow you to sit at a table but no one’s going to take your order. And a truck is a lorry. And signs that say “Give Way” mean yield. (And you should particularly “give way” when a lorry is speeding up to you on the right!). So much to learn!

Somehow knowing that the road narrows does not calm me down.

I’m very happy that we’ve landed in Oaksey and we will be able to learn at a slower pace out here in The Cotswolds (think boondocks) than if we were plunked in the middle of London. So we’ll keep exploring the countryside and the villages and each day will get easier and we’ll get smarter (or at least Deb will). Plus we can always take the train to London if we need some city life.

In the meantime we’ll just be known as the Americans in the grey VW Golf (so watch out!) Oh, I’m sure we’ll probably embarrass ourselves from time to time. We’ll likely say or do something that the locals will find amusing but that’s okay. We’re heading into our second week now and all is well (almost).

How long before I stop missing sweet Charlise, Anna and Noah kisses and hugs? Probably never (I hope).

Cheers,

Denis

Our Life Begins in England

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

It’s 4:00 a.m. in our new home in Wiltshire, England and we can’t sleep. The moon is bright and shining through  our bedroom window. There are no street lights or traffic noises of any kind out here in our little village of Oaksey. Who knew that peace and quiet could be so alarming? It’s just very quiet.

We arrived in London on Monday night and made our way out here to the Cotswolds yesterday. We’ll have a car later today and will no longer be dependent upon the kindness of Mark (my Director here in the U.K.) but I’m feeling a little ambivalent about assuming TOTAL driving responsibilities. Deb will have to learn to drive on the left side of the road, too. That way we can take turns driving and cursing. Bloody hell!

Almost too quiet (almost)

To do list: learn to drive; unpack; set up a bank account; figure out when to say “cheers” and “keen” and “fancy”; find our way around the local markets; drink tea; go to work (me not Deb – she’s got plenty to do at the house).

It’s a blessing that we have so much to do – less time to miss our family and friends back home. Plus e-mail, Skype, Face-time and Facebook brings us all closer together (at least virtually). Thank you God, for creating people smart enough to make all this technology possible. It makes the “being away” so much easier to bear.

Now, if you could just put a dimmer switch on that bright moon outside our bedroom window…

Peace,

Denis

Liar, Liar; Pants On Fire!

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Lying seems to be the great American pastime. Politicians lie so much that it seems newsworthy when one of them is discovered telling the truth. University officials lie to cover up the misdeeds of coaches. Bishops lie to cover up the misdeeds of bad priests. Attorneys lie to protect their guilty clients. Cops lie to protect other cops. Advertisers lie to sell more stuff. Lying in America seems to be rampant. And acceptable (sort of).

I know that lying is supposed to be a sin. And there’s a commandment: “Thou shalt not lie”. I’d be a liar if I told you that I know which commandment it is, but I know it’s in the top ten. So if God commands us not to lie, why do we do it so freely. Why do we lie so much???

I know that there are some “good lies” or “little white lies”; for example when someone gives me an awful gift, I usually respond with something like, “Thanks. I love it!” It just seems rude to be honest and ask, “What in hell were you thinking when you selected this ugly-ass sweater for me?” I know because I’ve tried the honest approach and lying would have spared feelings and the resulting wrath (however the ugly sweaters stopped, come to think of it, all gifts from that individual have stopped). It’s also a good idea to lie when people ask, “How old do you think I am?” or “Does this (dress, suit, jacket, sweater, etc.) make me look fat?” Also lie about how cute their babies are – even if the kid looks like Yoda or the Mayor of Munchkin City.

But lying is a slippery slope. Lying leads to cheating; cheating leads to stealing; and stealing leads to God-knows-what. Folks cheat on their taxes and rationalize that “everybody does it”. People justify cheating the government by finding “loop-holes” in the tax code, welfare system, unemployment insurance programs, Medicare and Medicaid. And the ‘little guy’ feels entitled to cheat whenever possible because the Big Banks, Major Corporations and Wall Street have cheated him (her). It’s a vicious cycle.

Let’s stop! Or more to the point, let’s start. Let’s start by telling the truth; the whole truth; and nothing but the truth. I know it’s radical but let’s try.

And if I tell you that your butt looks big in those jeans, you can feel free to tell me that you think my grandchild is ugly (but you’d be a liar). Maybe I need to re-think this…

Peace,

Denis

Cleaning Out Closets

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This week we’ve begun cleaning out closets in anticipation of our move to England. We’re desperately trying to organize our lives. And with each closet comes a new discovery or re-discovery perhaps. Some of this has just been grunt-work; pulling stuff out, boxing it up or trashing it and moving on to the next pile. We’ve already given away tons of clothes and household goods but we find some things cannot be so easily tossed aside. I believe that there’s a reason most of that stuff is still with us (and not just because we’ve been too lazy to toss it out).

Our closets seem to me to be like a little microcosm of our 36 years of marriage. There are treasures packed away for sentimental reasons and safekeeping. There are mistakes (regretted purchases, unwanted gifts, ill-fitting clothing) jammed into the dark recesses but not quite forgotten. There are the everyday items that are always needed (and sometimes taken for granted until they don’t work or fit or simply wear out). There are the ‘surprises’ – things long ago forgotten but now given new life and purpose.

I think marriage is like that. We often hold on to our treasured memories and locked them away for safekeeping. And our regrets and disappointments are very likely shoved into the dark recesses of our consciousness. And of course the everyday experiences; probably taken for granted and rarely given the respect and appreciation so rightly deserved. But then there are the ‘surprises’; those special moments when your love is rekindled and you see one another in a new light or experience something about your life-partner for the first time (even after all these years).

So take some time to ‘clean out the closets’ of your marriage. Clear the cobwebs; get rid of the junk; pack up your regrets and let go of them; treasure your golden memories and make some room for the new ones. And don’t forget to appreciate the everyday experiences – the smile; the warm embrace; the shared laughter; the love delivered in so many ways…

Peace,

Denis

Remembering…

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This morning I read names at the Mass of Remembrance. Our parish celebrates the lives of those that have died each year on the first Saturday in November. I’ve done this a few times and it’s a beautiful ceremony and I believe it’s especially healing for those that have recently lost loved ones. Of course the physical challenge is pronouncing the names correctly – particularly the Polish, Italian and Chinese names. I always ask the Holy Spirit to help with that and I suppose even if I butcher a name or two it won’t be the first time that these families have had to endure some clod that can’t pronounce ‘Um Sung Huan’ (somehow that makes me feel better – my apologies to the Sung Huan family, oh and to the Szcgielski family, too).

But my ability (or inability) to pronounce names doesn’t diminish the significance of this day. As Catholic Christians we believe in life after death. Further we believe in some type of purgation of our souls. We believe some folks go straight to heaven; others may exist in a state of being somewhere between life on earth and eternal life with Christ. It’s a sticking point with my Protestant friends but it is Scripturally founded.

If he were not expecting the fallen to rise again, it would have been foolish to pray for the dead. But if he did this with a view to the splendid reward that awaits those who had gone to rest in Godliness, it was a holy and pious thought. Thus he made atonement for the dead that they might be absolved from their sin. 2 Maccabees 12:44-46

I’m not trying to convert anyone here; just trying to explain my own faith tradition. But my traditions are beside the point. What I experienced this morning was joy through sorrow. Which is exactly what Jesus offers us each day. And it’s only in our darkness that we can truly find the light. This morning as I read each name I felt honored to speak the name of a loved one; someone who was being lifted up in prayer or more likely being asked to pray for the loved ones remaining here on Earth. Afterall, my personal saints are in all heaven (Aunt Noel, Aunt Minnie, Mimi, Grandpa Tony, Aunt Sha, Uncle Ted, and countless others). Who better to ask prayers of than those who are experiencing the eternal light of God.

Not long ago my granddaughter Charlise told me, “Pawpaw someday you’re going to die.” I have to admit that I wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that truth. I think I told her that I would like to be very old when that happens but I assured her that I would be in heaven ALWAYS smiling down on her.

Today I was reminded (again) that I may need her help getting there.

Peace,

Denis

Another Day ~ Another Miracle

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Miracles. I was reminded yesterday that miracles happen daily. Sometimes we’re blessed to witness them from a front row seat.

My nephew Dave and his wife Laura had their first child yesterday. Logan David Wilhelm was born via emergency C-section at St. John’s Mercy Hospital in St. Louis. He weighs 2 lbs. 7 oz. and is 15-1/2” long. He was born two months early. Laura’s intuition probably saved her baby’s life. She felt that something wasn’t right and saw her doctor yesterday morning. I know that it’s true that Moms can sense their children’s needs. But this is the first time that I have witnessed it in vitro. Apparently the umbilical cord was wrapped around little Logan and was depriving him of nutrition and oxygen.

Even though Logan’s birth weight is extremely low and he was born 9 weeks early we remain very hopeful. He is receiving the best care possible in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at one of the best hospitals in the country. They have already reduced the amount of oxygen he is receiving and the doctors believe that my nephew and his wife should be able to hold him in a few days. I’m told that his Daddy’s touch already calms him!

My wife was with Laura and Dave until my brother Dave and sister-in-law Pat could arrive from Atlanta late last night. Great Aunt Debbie reports: “Logan is beautiful but very tiny.”

Logan ~ our little miracle

Not all miracles make the news and they may not affect multitudes but they are miracles none the less. Logan is already responsible for an amazing outpouring of love and kindness among our family and friends. His life has changed us all forever. And that change alone is miraculous. We have reaffirmed our love for one another and we are humbled by his birth. And we are reminded (again) that life is precious and it is truly a gift from God – never to be taken for granted.

We have every reason to believe that Logan will thrive but we also know that he has a tough road ahead. So much to ask of such a tiny little boy!

But someday, in 100 years or so, he can tell his story to his grandchildren and great-grandchildren: that with God’s grace and your prayers there once was a miracle named Logan.

Peace,

Denis