Hello, Mimi!

My hiatus on Blogspot is now a bit longer than 15 years, which was never intended, nor envisioned.

At the encouragement of my friend Joe, I've decided to start writing again. It may still be a bit sporadic, but the new impetus is to leave behind stories from my life for my precious granddaughter, Mimi. She is now 21 months old, so it will be a long time until she is ready to read any of my little missives. My hope is that these posts will deepen her knowledge of her Papa.

Ben and Mimi called me on Facetime yesterday, in what's becoming a once- or twice-weekly ritual. The technology is amazing in its ability to almost transport one into the presence of another person. Mimi will hug Ben's phone. She'll demand to see "Grah-Grah," aka Grandma. When she's seen Kathie for a bit, she'll demand to see "Papa." When Ben was a child, of course, we had landline phones with no images, so our parents had no chance to see him or hear his voice unless we visited.

Mimi's vocabulary is increasing rapidly. Just a couple of months ago, our Facetime calls were constrained to simple questions and answers, such as "What color is Grah-Grah's shirt?" "Red" would come the reply, albeit pronounced a bit more like "waya." Now one of her clear sentences is "Mimi seepy," meaning she's tired and ready for sleep. Kathie and I are learning to translate Mimi-speak fairly well, sometimes with help from Ben.

During yesterday's call, Mimi was a chatterbox. Ben had finished bathing her and preparing for bedtime. She had a bottle of milk, but rejected it in favor of water--making her choice known rather than placidly accepting what her parent offered. Despite the hour, she was still full of energy, talking about a book she was reading with Ben, a bilingual English/Spanish thriller called something like "Donde esta la gallina?" or "Where is the chicken?" Reading, talking and running around the apartment, Mimi was showing off her own personality. It still amazes me to watch her develop.

That's about all for now. More to come soon. I promise!

Job ministry a "candle of hope" for those in career transition

“The loss of my job came as a lethal blow,” said a member of the St. John Neumann Job Network (SJN2) recently. “I was a dedicated employee with every intention of retiring from this company.”

That theme is echoed time and again by members of the parish’s employment ministry.

“I was with the company for 13 years and stuck through the highs and the lows,” said another person. “I really felt betrayed. I was very loyal to them.”

Nevertheless, “I was hurt, but felt God wanted me to move on and, without this happening, I probably never would have done that. I am now concentrating on the future instead of the past,” she said.

Moving on from employment loss is important, according to counselors and experts familiar with this all-too-common situation in today’s economy. Often, people identify themselves by what they do—“I’m an engineer” or “I am an executive”—that they lose not only their jobs and their income, but also part of their identity, their self-esteem and their relationships with others. Many job seekers go through stages of grief, similar to losing a loved one.

“The best advice is to let go of the anger—and do this immediately,” counseled an SJN2 member from Fairview Park. “Although you may have some self-doubt in your abilities due to being downsized, once you begin to approach your job search as a journey of growth and discovery, you will find that there is a whole new world out there.

“The church groups helped to fill the outplacement void,” he continued, “and they have had an open door to help those in need.”

“To say that my faith has been tested is an understatement,” said another member. “The job search process has been an interesting and powerful personal journey.

“I was lucky that, through volunteer work, I met some people who noticed me and offered me contract work,” she continued. “After 16 months of diligently searching—and more interviews than I care to count—I was offered a full-time position with benefits earning 50% less than my previous income.

“Luckily, I have learned humility in my search process and accepted the position after only an hour to think and pray about it.

“When God closes a door, a window always opens. However, it can be lonely in the hallway. The hallway is where we need our support groups.”

“It is human nature to feel shame and embarrassment when you find yourself in a position of helplessness,” said a member. “You put on a happy face and create an illusion that everything is OK, but in truth, you watch in horror as you consume your resources. You’re shocked that the financial security that took you years to build is being exhausted at an alarming rate. You go through periods of panic attacks, nightmares, depression and despair.”

“As far as the role SJN2 plays,” said the first person above, “well, it holds up a candle of hope. It gives you a constructive direction in which to move…In unity there is strength. We need one another to hold us up when we can’t do it alone.”

The St. John Neumann Job Network is a faith-based community outreach ministry of the parish that has been meeting since March 2009. Having grown to more than 230 members, it is open to all and free of charge, regardless of religious affiliation or residence. Most members are business professionals from the ranks of middle management, technical and operational fields.

“I look at the St. John Neumann job club as a ministry,” said a member from Broadview Heights, “and have been warmly welcomed into this group even though I am not a member or the church or a Catholic. I think this shows that God is at work in good times and bad, and that SJN2 is an outreach to the community rather than an exclusive club for parishioners.”

An ongoing need is for parishioners to serve as network contacts for members. If you learn of a job opening, are willing to make introductions at your place of employment or can acquaint a member with your field of work, you are a needed addition to the group.

“The biggest thing the parishioners can do is notify you when they hear of an opening at their place of employment and maybe a contact or referral to anyone who is qualified for the position from our group,” explained another member.

If you would like to join SJN2 as a job seeker or serve as a network contact, contact Joe Wollet at (440) 846-8080 or jwollet@gmail.com or visit the group’s next monthly meeting 7:30-8:30 p.m. Wed., May 18 in the Gathering Room.

El Salvador trip makes mark on missioners; return visit under consideration for 2012

A year after returning from El Salvador, parishioners who made the trip are still feeling its effects.

“The trip to El Salvador was one of those events in life that truly impacted the way I think about things like serving others, trying to be generous and valuing my Catholic faith,” said Marty Zachlin, one of 12 St. John Neumann parishioners to visit the Central American nation. “I have thought about and prayed for the people in Chiltiupán every day since we returned.”

“More than anything, visiting El Salvador was like going to the moon and looking back,” observed Bill Scheible. “It made me realize the enormity and diversity of God’s creation and how—even in the most desperate of circumstances—each of us has a role to play in His church.”

The mission group in January 2010 spent four nights at a modern hotel with all comforts and conveniences on a Pacific beach. While there, they traveled to the mountain village of Chiltiupán, where they met many residents, local business leaders and school children. Time was balanced between educational meetings, a service project and social events to build relationships with residents.

The parish’s El Salvador mission team is considering another trip in early 2012. Salvadoran weather in January is warm and dry, a welcome getaway from a Cleveland winter. Physical demands are minimal, so the trip can be made easily by everyone from high school-aged students through seniors.

“The trip was a chance of a lifetime,” said Alexa Davis, one of two parish staff members to travel with the group. “To see people who have virtually nothing—but are still happy—gives you a greater appreciation for all the things we have. Meeting the people was truly the best part of the trip.”

“They were the poorest and yet the most faith-filled people I have ever met,” continued Zachlin. “I am so glad I went on the mission trip and I highly recommend the opportunity to anyone else who is considering going on the second mission trip.”

“El Salvador means ‘Our Savior,’ or ‘Our Deliverer’,” explained Scheible, “and my visit to El Salvador delivered me from complacency and narrow-mindedness in my comfortable life. I will return when God shows me the way back because I left a part of myself in Chiltiupán.”

Anyone who is interested in making a trip to Chiltiupán in 2012 or has questions about the itinerary is asked to contact parishioner Joe Wollet at (440) 846-8080 or jwollet@gmail.com. Space is limited to 12–15 persons, so call or email Wollet soon to express your interest.

Eulogy for Joseph F. Wollet, Sr.

Delivered Oct. 25, 2010

Dad might be somewhat humbled by the number of people who visited the funeral home yesterday and came to Mass today. He was a shy man who never sought fanfare or attention for himself. When he was invited to The White House to have his Silver Star medal presented by President Harry Truman, Dad would not go. For him, he had seen enough of war and didn’t want to bring back its memories.

Dad came to Cleveland during the war—World War II. Like so many people in the Greatest Generation, the depression and the cataclysmic events of World War II played a pivotal role in defining him in so many ways.

Born in Jefferson, WI, to a stay-at-home mother and a woodworking father—with eight brothers and sisters, Dad had a typical small-town childhood. He played center on the high school football team. He built gas-powered model airplanes, ice skated on the Rock River and ran home on school days for a home-cooked lunch.

The war changed him a lot, though. He entered the Wisconsin National Guard, then was sent off to the infantry. Since his days building model airplanes, Dad had wanted to fly. The military gave him a chance by allowing him to join a program that brought him to Cleveland, where he attended classes at Fenn College so he could learn to fly. Dad fell in love here too, but the war and the army wouldn’t let him stay. His education ended abruptly when his flight program was cancelled and all soldiers with previous infantry experience were ordered back to the infantry.

On Christmas Eve 1944, Dad entered combat in the Ardennes forest in Belgium—the Battle of the Bulge. The things he did that night were gallant, heroic even, but they would haunt him for the rest of his days. Fast forward 25 years now, to a Christmas Eve in Walton Hills, and picture Dad trying to enjoy the holiday season with Mom, his daughter and his three sons. While the kids eagerly waited for Santa, Dad wept silently, haunted by the demons of the war.

Dad returned to Cleveland after his military service and became an auto mechanic. He eventually took up the trade of his father, his brother and several of his nephews—working with wood. As a carpenter, he built houses, including his own on Kydan Lane, but got special satisfaction from cabinet-making, crafting beautiful yet functional pieces of art with a miter saw, a lathe and the other tools he used so skillfully.

When he wasn’t working, Dad loved fishing, camping and boating with Mom and us boys at Kelleys Island. After they became empty nesters, they escaped Cleveland’s winters by heading to Naples, FL. They did that together until a year or so before Mom died, 15 years ago last night.

Dad wasn’t much for speaking, but lived his life humbly through his deeds. He exemplified:

* Courage, sacrifice, honor and perseverance in living through both the depression and the war.

* Dedication, care, hard work and quiet pride, both in his craft and in raising his family. He always said how proud he was of each of his children.

* Generosity to his children, his grandchildren and his great-grandchildren.

He was always ready to crack a joke, even up to his last week alive, and seemed to have a permanent smile on his face. Dad’s legacy won’t be in buildings or foundations or highways named after him, but in the dwellings he built for others and in the values he instilled in his family. He graced us with his love, often expressed in his own quiet way, for 87 years. Today he’s with Mom in a new dwelling place built for him.

Demos Gracias Al Señor

On a trip to Chiltiupán, El Salvador this past January, members of our group were taught this song. It has a simple melody that's easy to follow and learn.

Whenever I hear the song, I'm taken back to the chapel where we learned it, the site where Sister Dorothy Kazel and three other American church women were buried in shallow graves after being murdered by the Salvadoran government.

Demos gracias al Señor, demos gracias,
Demos gracias al Señor (2 veces)

1. Por las mañanas las aves cantan
las alabanzas a Cristo el Salvador (2)

2. Y por las tardes las flores cantan
las alabanzas a Cristo el Salvador (2)

3. Y por las noches los cielos cantan
las alabanzas a Cristo el Salvador (2 veces)

4. Y a todas las horas los hombres cantan
las alabanzas.a Cristo el Salvador (2)

5. Y tú hermano por qué no cantas
las alabanzas a Cristo el Salvador (2)

On happiness

A friend posed a question yesterday about happiness. Why it is that some people exude happiness and others do not? What makes people happy?

Although I am no expert, I do have the benefit of 54 years of experience. Happiness, in my view, is in the mind and heart of the beholder. Money, accolades, stature in life or similar values have no relevance in defining one's happiness. I've known people who made a quarter of a million dollars a year who were as dour as anyone could be. I've met people with impressive titles and honors in whose shoes I would not want to walk.

On the contrary, I've met people who have little in the way of worldly goods who have been extremely happy people. People who put other people before themselves. People who value family and friends. People whose faith abides.

Happiness is what you make it. If you want happiness, you will be happy. If you feel down and out, you will be down and out. So enjoy life, enjoy what God has given you. Count your blessings and don't compare yourself to what others have. That will do you no good whatsoever.

Concern yourself with giving happiness and you will reap happiness in return.

Kent State at 40

My dad was driving me home that day when we heard the news on the car radio. I clearly remember we were on Northfield Road in Bedford, not too far from Chanel High School, heading south.

"It's about time somebody did something about those hippies," or words to that effect, came from my dad's mouth. A World War II veteran, Dad was not very tolerant of anti-war protests, thinking it was unpatriotic to question the government. Years later, though, he admitted he was wrong about the war, realizing it was very, very different from his war.

"My God," I thought, "four years from now, that could be me." A freshman in high school, I was horrified that soldiers would turn and fire live ammo at a group of students. I distinctly remember wondering what my dad's thoughts would be if it was me on campus that terrifying day.

In part because of the Kent State shootings, I decided to attend Bowling Green State Unviersity. The idea of going to Kent was just too chilling.

While at Bowling Green, I worked for the student newspaper, The BG News, which always commemorated the shootings. On May 4, 1977, during my tenure as editor-in-chief of The BG News, we ran John Filo's photo of Mary Ann Vecchio screaming in anguish over the dead body of a fellow student, together with an editorial reminding our fellow students not to forget.

In the years since then, I've often paused to remember the shootings and how they affected not only me, but our nation. On May 4, 1995, I was flying to Cleveland with my young son. We were living in Alabama at the time, but coming home to visit my dying mother. As the plane made its final approach to Cleveland Hopkins airport, I remember thinking how it seemed impossible that 25 years had passed since the shootings.

The day is indelibly etched in my mind. Before we had Sept. 11, 2001, our generation had May 4, 1970.

We must never forget.

Five successful years

Five years ago this morning, I was laid out in the operating room, getting my gut cut open for an RNY gastric bypass procedure. It was the best thing I've ever done for myself. If I had to do it over again, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

Before I started, I tipped the scales at 428 lbs. When I weighed myself yesterday, I was 244 lbs. In between, I dropped as low as 216 lbs. before bouncing back a bit. Gastric bypass probably saved my life, as I can now do things I had only imagined previously, like a 73-mile backpacking trip last summer.

I'm grateful to the surgeons, nurses, nutritionists and other medical professionals who did my procedure. I'm most grateful to my family and the online buddies I made at ObesityHelp.com. What a great support system!