life

Anna Writes

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

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

 

 

 

My Version of Heaven

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Lately I’ve been pondering heaven. Maybe because according to AARP I am now a senior citizen and should be obsessed with all end of life matters. But it’s more likely because I have grandchildren who talk about heaven and how wonderful it will be someday.

heavenWill it be wonderful? Will it be awesome? Will it be at all? Truth is, none of us knows for sure. Throughout history much has been written about heaven. Theologians have contemplated and expounded on paradise and eternal life in God’s presence for eons but the images of heaven most of us carry in our minds are those of a child. After all, pearly gates and streets of gold and billowy white robes are the stuff of nursery rhymes and fairy tales.

Let me be clear: I believe in a Creator. I believe in a Redeemer. I believe in a Sanctifier. I believe that the Creator made me from love; that the Redeemer saved me through love; that I am sanctified by the love the Creator and Redeemer have for one another.

That’s theologically heady stuff that as an adult I can embrace. But where is heaven and what is heaven? I’m afraid I am stuck with childish beliefs that don’t work for the grown up (old) me. My image of heaven has not been much different from that of my grandchildren. But I’m challenging myself to look at heaven in a new way.

So here’s my theory: (Assumptions being made for the existence of heaven and my ability to share in the experience). I believe that heaven is the ultimate manifestation of God’s love for us. I believe that in heaven when I am reunited with my loved ones it will be when the love we shared was the most sublime. I believe that I will encounter everyone in the state of being I most loved and they will likewise encounter me.

I will feel the comfort of snuggling in my mother’s arms as a small child. I will fun free in the woods with my best friend. I will once again experience the overwhelming beauty of seeing my bride walk down the aisle with the sun gleaming through the church windows. I will hold my newborn children in my arms and be overwhelmed by their awesome beauty and complete helplessness. I will laugh with my sons at scout camp and hug them tightly at basic training and the first day at University. I tell my daughter bedtime stories and kiss her soft cheek on her wedding day. I will play with my grandchildren at the beach and in the backyard and receive the sweet kisses that can melt even the hardest of hearts.

And how will others encounter me? I hope it will be at the happiest times. At times when peace and love was spoken without words.

So heaven may have streets of gold and angels and harps and clouds and unbelievable beauty and majesty but I’d rather be holding hands with my wife while walking down some quiet lane together reminiscing about the life we’ve shared. And I hope that in heaven she will encounter the man who is worthy of her love.

Now that would be eternal bliss…

Peace,

Denis

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

Run Away With Me

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

Today I turn 60.

I’ve been thinking lately that my life is best described as a journey. Not so much one long journey but instead it’s been a series of many journeys. Some pleasant. Some mundane. Some exquisite. Some devastating. Some planned. Some unexpected. One journey after another. Another day. Another journey.

The constant in all this journeying is my beautiful wife Deborah. Over 40 years ago I asked if she would run away with me and she said yes. And that’s how it’s been ever since. Always side by side on this crazy ride. Pushing and pulling each other along the way, we’ve made the best of it all and never regretted the journey’s twists and turns. Sometimes holding on to one another in delight or terror. Still we’ve made our way.

I know that there are no guarantees in life (except that it will end one day) so I will take it one day at a time. It’s said that man plans and God laughs. I prefer to think that every step of our journey together, whether planned or unplanned, has been ordained by the mystery of God’s love for us. And I’m sure we’ve given God plenty to laugh about!

boatAll I know is I must have done something good along the way because Deb agreed to run away with me all those years ago and we’ve kept running. And the older I get the more I realize that where we’re headed is nothing compared to journeying there together. On those darkest days, when all seems lost, I look beside me and know that everything will be alright. When happiness abounds, I know that it’s because of the love she brings to my life. And once again I thank God.

I asked her to run away with me and she said yes! And the journey continues…

So today is my birthday but I don’t need to blow out any candles.

Deb, you already know my wish. Let’s go!

Peace,

Denis

 

Macaroons (and other cherished memories)

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Three years ago we lived in England. One of the advantages of living there was our ability to travel around Europe. And April in Paris just felt right.

Traveling to Paris was a dream that we had shared for most of our married life. Paris the city of lights; the city of romance. Being there – walking through the streets of Paris is hard to put into words. I just kept being overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it all. The monuments – Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triomphe, The Obelisk in The Place de la Concorde were all more impressive in person than what I had seen in photos. Notre-Dame Cathedral and The Louvre are simply magnificent. The River Seine was amazing. But my favorite memory of Paris will always be the macaroons.

Let me explain:

LadureeMy beautiful wife loves to cook and loves to watch cooking shows and read cookbooks and cooking magazines. Debbie learned that the place for macaroons in Paris is Laduree. People were literally wrapped around the block waiting to purchase macaroons there. It was a must-do! So we patiently waited and little by little wound our way into the shop. The cases were filled with thousands of macaroons in various and assorted flavors. Deb was thrilled beyond words while I was just coming to the realization that macaroons are cookies – beautiful, colorful cookies but cookies nonetheless. Of course neither of us speak French so, when we finally approached the counter, we panicked and requested an assortment. In broken English the young lady said that 24 macaroons would be 40 euro. Deb was still awestruck and nodded – OUI, OUI! I was quickly doing the math in my head – about $56.oo for 24 tiny macaroons! Now I’m not really a cheapskate, but because I figured that I could eat about three macaroons in one bite, I knew that this was going to be a pretty expensive snack. But as we say in Paris ~ C’est la vie!

When we left Laduree I told Deb I thought that 40 euro was a bit much for 24 macaroons. “Oh no!” “I thought she said 14 euro.” was her reply. We both had a good laugh and I told her it was no big deal that we could eat few each day and take the rest back to our home in England. Deb informed me that macaroons have a very short shelf life and that we would have to eat them pretty quickly. So after a long day of sight-seeing we sat in our hotel room with swollen feet and gorged ourselves on macaroons and laughed about how glamorous our time in Paris had become. God forbid we would waste one morsel of precious macaroon!

So that’s my favorite and most vivid memory of Paris. Laughing with the one I love about the macaroon mix-up while stuffing our faces. Hardly the romantic image of Paris I had expected to carry in my heart but still the one I will always cherish.

My love in Paris

My love in Paris 2012

I’ve traveled to some amazing places. I’ve been fortunate to have toured some magnificent castles and world-renowned museums. But my most cherished memories aren’t places. Instead it’s hearing a heartbeat next to mine, touching newborn skin so soft I could barely feel it, tasting a tomato just pulled off the vine, holding a tiny hand in mine, smelling lilacs in bloom, hugging someone so tightly and never wanting to let go, seeing a sunrise so beautiful it made me cry. It doesn’t matter whether those things happened in royal gardens or grand halls or sacred cathedrals or back alley ways.

You see, it’s not where or when that makes memories special. It’s who and why. And macaroons.

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

 

Blue Chambray Shirt

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

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

Haircuts, Handwriting, Handkerchiefs, and Holding Doors

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

CaptureI consider myself a progressive. I’m a confirmed feminist (my granddaughters are destined for greatness). I also support women in the priesthood, equal pay for equal work, and look forward to the day that we have a woman in the Oval Office. I champion diversity in my workplace while supporting family leave for women and men. Social justice issues (especially as they relate to women) are dear to my heart and I expect that I will ALWAYS lean to the left. And I think that we can all agree that violence against women is intolerable and shameful.

So why do find myself mourning the passing of certain traditional elements in society?

I still go to a barbershop replete with a barber pole, clippers, straight razors, sports & auto magazines, and the same old guys (yours truly included) that have frequenting the place for 30+ years. I don’t need a stylist or a colorist or a scalp massage. I just want to talk about the weather and local sports teams and get a 15 minute haircut.

It also makes me very sad that many young people don’t have legible handwriting. When was the last time you even received a handwritten note? I love email and texting but sometimes I long for a letter or even a postcard, written in long hand (not printed), addressed to me, and actually mailed with a stamp and a postmark! Do they even teach penmanship in school anymore?

I always carry a handkerchief (not for blowing my nose) but to offer to a lady to dry her tears or to wipe a smudge. No sexist implications here. I was just raised to believe that a gentleman should always have a clean and pressed handkerchief. Thanks Mom!

And when did holding a door for someone become passé? My beautiful wife is just as strong and smart as I am and yet I still want to hold the door for her whenever we’re together and would NEVER step in front of her when walking through a doorway. This doesn’t make me gallant and certainly doesn’t imply that she is weak; just loved and respected.

So what does a well-meaning progressive do in a society that seems to be discarding tradition; abandoning manners in lieu of efficiency or mistaken equality; surrendering politeness in an attempt to be first in all things at the expense of others?

I’m not really sure, but I believe that I can still be relevant and thoughtful. I believe that I can support women’s rights and hold a door. I believe that I can embrace technology and still write the occasional note. Who knows, maybe when one my granddaughters becomes president she will ask Congress to consider mandating that penmanship be taught in all public schools.

I will be there to offer my handkerchief to her when they reject her proposal as antiquated and foolish. And then, of course, I will wipe my own tears.

Peace,

Denis

From Forty To Forever…

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Today is our 40th wedding anniversary. It’s hard to believe that Debbie and I have been married for forty years. In some ways it feels like yesterday that we walked down the aisle and then there are days when it seems that we’ve been together forever. At least I know that we will stay together forever. And always in love.

wedding marriage license

SIGNING OUR MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE ~ Don’t think we had any idea what we were signing up for in 1975

I’m a lucky man. My wife is still as beautiful as the day we married. She still makes me laugh everyday (mostly at myself). She has helped me become the man who I hoped I could be – worthy of her love. She has been by my side through it all. Never behind me; never in front of me; always beside me. Equal partners.

Marriage is supposed to be 50/50 but successful couples will tell you that sometimes it’s 80/20 or 40/60 and that each partner sometimes carries the extra load for the other. In the long run it truly is 50/50 but knowing when you need to give more and take less is the secret to happiness. That and honesty and respect. And of course love.

So we’ve been blessed these forty years with love and respect and honesty and laughter. We have three beautiful children: Tyson who has his mother’s tender heart. Bess who shares Deb’s spirit of fun and adventure and faithfulness. Blake who embraces her caring nature and compassion. They are our jewels; they are our treasures.

The best parts of our married life have made the tough parts worth it all. We’ve carried each other on this journey when necessary but mostly we’ve walked hand in hand. I started out thinking in 1975 that we were somehow headed toward a goal – Financial success? Maturity? Stability? Marital bliss? But through these forty years I’ve come to realize that the journey’s the thing. That’s our legacy. That somehow through good and bad; thick and thin, we’ve made it. We’ve remained side by side. Never behind. Never in front. Always beside.

And I can’t imagine any other life. Any other love. Any other girl.

Peace,

Denis

Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, is not pompous, it is not inflated, it is not rude, it does not seek its own interests, it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury, it does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices with the truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

 

 

 

May I have a seat at this table?

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

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

I Fell In Love Ten Years Ago

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

Our oldest granddaughter Charlise is ten years old today. Ten years! It seems like yesterday that she was born. I suppose all parents (and grandparents?) look back on the day their child was born with feelings of nostalgia and wonder.

Charlise was born a month early and even though Deb made a quick trip to Florida shortly after her birth, I couldn’t get away from work as quickly. We went back to Florida together by the time she was nearly a month old. Of course I had seen hundreds of photos by then but I will never forget the first time that I held her in my arms. It was love at first sight. She was this tiny, beautiful, precious, baby girl. Her skin was so soft that I could barely feel it with my rough hands. She was everything I’d ever hoped for and I prayed that one day I would be a grandfather worthy of such a miracle.

CharliseWell that was ten years ago. Today my girl is more beautiful, if that is even possible. She is a sweet, smart, funny, caring girl who never stops amazing me with the love she shares. I may be prejudiced, but I believe if you met her you would agree that she is just simply a good girl. Every teacher is happy to have her in their classroom. Every coach wants her on their team. Every scout leader wants her in their troop. Every parent is happy for their kid to call her friend.

At times it makes me a little melancholy to think about how fast she has grown. I can already see the kind of adult she will be: Strong, confident, loving, kind. She will make her mark in this world. Her love of others will always be a guiding force and she will surely be successful in all of her endeavors. I hope that I’m around to see the woman she will become. I know that she has some scathingly brilliant ideas!

But that will all have to wait. She’s remains my little girl even though she’s a BIG ten year-old! There are still times when she climbs up on my lap and hugs my neck and I’m carried back to that moment ten years ago when I first fell in love…

Happy Birthday Peanut!

Love,

Pawpaw