life

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!

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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