Love

When All Else Fails…

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

This has been a gut-wrenching week. I have experienced disappointment and heartache at every turn. I am numb with grief for our friends who lost their son to a drug overdose. I am saddened by the realization that a co-worker seems to be losing his battle with cancer. I am frightened by the senseless violence in our streets: another day, another homicide. It feels overwhelming and I feel hopeless and helpless. So much sadness. So much despair.

I am often reminded that when all else fails we should pray. But I’m almost too angry to pray right now. I want some answers! Why? Why does this happen? How could this happen? When will it stop? God you owe me some answers. I want promises; not platitudes. I want understanding; not condemnations. I want action; not plans.

My prayers seem empty as my thoughts are clouded with lost lives; lost hope; lost faith; lost dreams. And yet I pray (or try to) for promise; for understanding; for action. I have found comfort in the words of Saint Francis:

st-francis-peace-prayerLord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.

O, Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.

In my hopelessness and helplessness I ask God to make me a channel of peace. Let me bring reconciliation to those I encounter and give me the grace to let go of my anger and disappointment. Then perhaps I can help others begin to heal.

Peace,

Denis

My Version of Heaven

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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

 

Why My Aunt Loretta Is The Reason I Was Born

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My parents met in 1946.

Dad had been honorably discharged from the Navy and returned to his hometown. Young and restless after having seen the horrors of the Pacific in WWII and more of the world than he had ever imagined, he was living with his parents, his grandmother, three of his aunts and his two younger brothers in a cramped house. He was ready to be on his own!

Mom had recently left the family farm and had moved in with her married sister and her family to be near the shoe factory where she had found employment. Factory work wasn’t easy but it was easier than life on the farm, caring for a widowed father and an invalid brother. She was ready to be on her own!

On that fateful day in August, Mom was walking home from her job at Brown Shoe Factory with a co-worker named Wayne. Dad was tooling around town in his car and spotted Wayne, who was an old school freind, walking with a pretty young girl. Dad pulled over and asked Wayne if he and his girlfriend would like a ride. Wayne’s response: “Sure George, but she’s not my girlfriend.”

And off they went with Mom in the front seat between Dad and Wayne. Dad, ever the sly one, dropped buddy Wayne off first so he could be alone with Mom. Mom remembers hugging the passenger door and leaning as far away from ‘The Stranger’ as possible. She thought he was handsome and friendly but maybe too friendly. She was releaved to be safely dropped at her sister’s door.

Before driving away Dad asked Mom out – that night. There was a VJ (Victory over Japan) Day dance that evening and he was a returning Vet and she would make him so happy if she would be his date. She thanked him for the ride home but gave him the “brush off” by telling him that she was busy.

momdad3

Dot and George ~ Still in love after all these years

Dad, never one to take no an answer, went home, cleaned up and put on his best suit and showed up at Aunt Loretta and Uncle Les’ door to pick up his date in time for the big dance. When Mom realized he was there she ran upstairs and asked her sister to lie and say she wasn’t there. But Aunt Loretta must have seen something in Dad that Mom hadn’t seen, in her haste to get away from him earlier that day, or perhaps she just wanted Mom out of her house.

So Aunt Loretta yelled up the steps, “Dot, your date’s here!” And the rest is history.

That was 70 years ago and Mom and Dad are still in love and just recently celebrated their 69th wedding anniversary.

We lost Aunt Loretta a few years ago but I can still hear her laugh and say, “You can thank me! If I hadn’t opened that door back in August 1946, none of you would kids be here today!”

And so it is…

Peace,

Denis

Macaroons (and other cherished memories)

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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

 

 

 

 

Anna Turns Seven

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

 On Tuesday Anna turns seven. Seven? Where did the time go? So much about her has changed in just seven short years. She still lets me hold her in my arms but I’m afraid those days are numbered. tunies.jpg

The name Anna means gracious and merciful and indeed she is! She has gone from being a helpless infant into a bright, confident, loving first grader. She’s a big sister who dotes on her little brother. She’s a sweet daughter who loves her Mommy and adores her Daddy. She’s a kind and caring friend who shares her time and attention (and her toys). And she’s a granddaughter who brings so much joy that sometimes my heart aches from the sheer beauty of her little soul.

I want to tell her how much she is loved but she already knows that.

I want to tell her that she has changed my world but I suspect that she knows that, too.

I have thanked God for her each day since she entered our world – with a song in her heart, a smile on her lips, and a twinkle in her eyes.

On Tuesday as she blows out her birthday candles I’ll be making some wishes, too. Here are my wishes for Anna:

  • Even when others are unkind. Stay true to your loving spirit.
  • Dream big. If you can dream it; you can do it!
  • Pray always: with words, with deeds, with your smile, with your tears.
  • Travel the world; have great adventures, but remember to always carry Home in your heart.
  • Never forget how much that you are loved. Especially by God.
  • Dance like no one is watching; sing your song to all who will listen.
  • Question authority; shake things up; make some noise for justice and peace.
  • Laugh out loud. A lot.
  • Be tough but caring. Be compassionate but strong.
  • Be the smartest person in the room but never be arrogant or unkind. 
  • Love without fear. Give yourself to others without regret.

anna pawpawI have one wish for myself, too. I hope that Anna lets me carry her in my arms until old age or weakness makes it impossible. And then I hope that she will carry me.

Happy Birthday Anna. Pawpaw loves you more than words can say!

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

Blue Chambray Shirt

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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

Time To Purge

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Lent began this week. Traditionally Catholic Christians go to Mass on Wednesday and have a cross smudged on their foreheads with ashes – an outward sign of our mortality. Ironically at Ash Wednesday Mass we hear Matthew’s Gospel tell us, “Do not look gloomy like hypocrites” “wash your face, so that you may not appear to be fasting”. I’ve always found this somewhat puzzling. Matthew tells us, “your Father who sees what is hidden will repay you” but we dutiful Catholics march off proudly showing our ashes to all who can see.

Most Catholics also “give up” something that they love as a sacrifice to honor the ultimate sacrifice that Jesus made for us or to remind us of the suffering of others. What I vividly remember as a child are anxious adults who would give up smoking or coffee or alcohol. As a kid I would sometimes give up candy (but not the chocolate kind) and end up as irritable as the adults – forty days without Bit-O-Honey! While I admire the idea of sacrificial suffering, perhaps giving up my favorite candy bar or vice isn’t necessarily the best way to honor Christ during Lent.

This Lenten season I am going to give up something (again). This year I’m going to purge. I’m going to clean out closets and give (things that I used to love) to those in need. I’m going to simplify my diet and donate excess food to a pantry. But mostly I’m going to try to get rid of the stuff that I really don’t need. I’m going to try to unload some of the crap that I’ve been piling up and carrying around far too long.

  • It’s time to let go of anger and resentment.
  • It’s time to say goodbye to disappointment and heartache.
  • It’s time to leave gossip, backbiting and hurtful words alone.
  • It’s time to give up prejudice and hatred.

It’s time to pack up and ship out all the garbage that keeps me from loving and being loved. I’m going to purge. I’m making a concerted effort to unload, unpack, and rid myself of anything that damages my relationships with others and God.

Truth be told, it would be much be easier to give up my favorite glass of wine or dessert than any of this stuff. But I will try, and try again…

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