I know it is a diet, but ...

Can't we call it something else?

The phrase most commonly associated with diets is that "someone dropped off their diet." or "Someone broke their diet." Diets are very fragile because they are so easily broken.

My father struggled with his weight. He was a skinny kid. He was five foot eleven inches and a rail in high school. After school came the Air Force, then marriage and work as an electrician. He also was pastor of a church. Food was his friend. Dad was raised by his aunt as his mother was very young. He had abandonment issues even though he and his mom were very close. When something stressed him, he turned to his friend that never rejected him: food. His weight led to numerous health issues. There were times he was very heavy. He tried many ways to lose weight, and he would, for a while. Then he would eventually regain his weight and usually with more added. He tried diet after diet. They all failed. Diets are so easily broken.

We look at diets as rules that can be broken without immediate penalty. Since the majority of diets are self imposed, they can be self-broken.

I, jokingly, called this my IMP. That is my Ingestion Modification Plan.

In my whole life of nearly 53 years, I have never really dieted. I was a skinny child. When I was in 8th grade, I recall trying to break 100 pounds. I started lifting weights then and by my senior year in high school, I weighed in at 132 pounds and was lifting 220 pounds in the bench press. I was a 'lean mean fighting machine.' My metabolism was racing. I could eat practically anything and not gain weight. I stood around five foot eight inches tall.

A brief stint in college followed, then work and marriage. I worked in electrical construction and though I gained some weight, it wasn't an issue. We didn't own a scale. We didn't need one. I was around 200 pounds before I remember weighing myself again. Now, not making excuses, but I am thick built. My wrists, an indicator of bone density, are eight inches around. I am not going to be a small person even when I am at a good weight for me. At 200 pounds, I was not fat.

It was a while later, while working in Pennsylvania and living in Ohio that I weighed in at 240 pounds. I was overweight. I had to admit it to myself. Even then, admitting it, I felt no compunction to diet. I can’t begin to tell you what I was thinking then. It was if I assumed the weight appeared by some sleight of hand and was going to go away the same way. I don’t recall whether I tried a diet then or not. As I said, I can’t remember ever dieting.

Several years later, I came back home to Kentucky to work. I was staying in the mid 200’s then. I stayed around there for about ten years. Then came the divorce, and living on my own. I became an accomplished cook. Cooking for myself and eating without monitoring myself took its toll. It was also around this time that we discovered my hypothyroidism. Suddenly I was over 300 pounds.

The battle for stability of my thyroid condition produced casualties. I was always cold in the winter. I was always tired. I was always hungry. Being cold and tired kept me in. Being hungry kept me eating. I crept up to over 350 pounds. It went up and down after that. I quit drinking three 24 oz Mountain Dews a day and went to diet Dew. I lost 20 pounds doing that, but it crept back up as I was still eating. My Synthroid dosage went from the starting dose of 25 MCG to 350 MCG in the next six years. My weight went up and down but stayed close to the 350 pound range.

That brings me to just over two weeks ago. I was at mom’s house. She has a medical type scale. I weighed myself as I have often done while there. I was either to or down to 350 pounds depending on which way I was traveling in my weight gain or loss. That was a Friday. On Sunday, I decided it was enough.

I have to tell you. I am a procrastinator. Never put off until tomorrow what you can put off until next week. This, however, needed to be done now. I had thought about it many times before and sometimes even went as far as to say in my mind, I am going to start a diet. It never happened, until that Sunday evening. I was visiting some sick friends in the hospital. Tammy was home fixing a pot roast. I was visiting “J” in his room. He had been dieting and told the hospital he was doing so. They put on his chart that he was dieting. The dietary staff gave him meals on their diet plan. He told me that others, family and friends, were bringing him food from restaurants, because he was hungry.

Mind you, I am not making a judgment call on “J”. It was just that at that moment, something in me changed.

My wife smokes. I tease her sometimes about being a slave to that thin white stick. She tells me I can’t understand since I have never been a smoker. I did smoke one pack of cigs when I was fifteen years old. That was the extent of my smoking career. She is right. I can’t understand being addicted to cigs, but addiction, I can understand. I was/am addicted to food. I ate when I was hungry. I ate when I wasn’t hungry. I ate when I was angry. I ate when I was happy. I celebrated good times with food. I commiserated bad times with food. I recall a friends joke about another person’s drinking. “He only drinks when he is by himself or with someone.” I was that way with food.

I liked most foods. I liked Mexican food, Chinese food, Italian food, Thai food, Indian food, German food, American food, Moroccan food, and most other foods. I liked the way food tasted. I like the way it felt. I liked feeling contented after a good meal. I am such a junkie.

I went home that Sunday and told Tammy, while eating a delicious supper of Pot Roast with potatoes, green beans, and carrots, that my diet would begin on Monday morning. Truth be told, it started after that meal, as I didn’t go down in the middle of the night to get an overnight bite.

The process of change is not an easy one. I immersed myself in the whole thing. I made a chart on Excel® to track my daily calories. It kept my meal totals and calculated my daily total. It charted my eating and gave me my averages. It keeps my per-meal averages and my daily averages. I found SparkPeople® and joined. I was a tracking fool.

Two things I loved in school were math and writing. I used both in this process. I track and calculate, and I write about the progression. Both are vital and integral parts for me. This is helping to make this more than just a diet. As I said, diets are easily broken. This is not my diet. This is my change.

Here are some examples of the change:

· I love chips and hot salsa. The salsa part is not as bad as the chips part. I was craving the taste. Before, that would have meant half a jar of salsa and half a bag of chips. Instead, this time, I took two scoop chips, filled them about half with the salsa, and ate them slowly, savoring the taste. I satisfied the craving for the taste and only took in 25 calories. That is a change.

· I love peanut butter. I generally kept a jar of it somewhere near my desk. There is still a container of it beside my desk now. It is a six-pound container. My granddaughters love it. I wanted the taste. Previously, this would have meant half a pack of saltine crackers and lots of peanut butter. This time, it was just about a quarter of a tablespoon and a slow savor. That was 27 calories and a craving sated. That is a change.

· More than a few times a week, my lunch would be my favorite sandwich: Bologna, cheese, onion, and Miracle Whip on white bread X two. One of these sandwiches was 585 calories and I would usually have two. That is a whopping 1170 calories for lunch more than twice a week. I haven’t had one of those since the change. As the matter of fact, my average daily calorie intake in the last 15 days is 1140 calories per day. That is a change.

· There are numerous other changes as well. Some of them large and some of them small. All of them are part of the change.

It was a twelve pound change in the first week. It was a five pound change in the second week. Change is good.

the biggest change

My wife and I were talking about the changes I have made in this diet. She surprised me when she told what she saw as the biggest change. There were several large changes to consider.

I started counting calories. This prompted me to pay more attention to what and when I eat. This was new. Before, I would 'graze' most of the day. I would eat a little here and a little there. I would hit most of the major meals, but most of the day was a grazing thing. This was a major change.

I started eating healthier. By paying attention to calories, I began making healthier choices. I realize that low calories doesn't always mean healthier. I began looking at protein and fat and carbs in what I was putting in my mouth. This was a major change.

I began walking for my health. I walked before, but not just for the sake of my health. I would begrudgingly walk if I had too. I have arthritis in my back and it was easier to say, "My back hurts" than to go places where I would have to walk or stand for any period of time. Anyone that has ever had a backache will empathize with you when you say, "My back hurts when I do that." It is a great and necessary excuse. So, for me to voluntarily go for a walk was unheard of. This was a major change.

I have a thyroid issue. I have Hypothyroidism. I am taking a large daily dose of synthroid. When i was originally diagnosed, my thyroid count was over 200 (normal is 0.5 to 5.5.) My doctor was amazed that I was still working or even walking. For those uninformed about the thyroid, let me give you a brief medical lesson: The thyroid regulates your metabolism. Your thyroid tells your brain how to 'fix' what is perceived as 'wrong' with you.

My thyroid is telling my brain that I am starving to death. This, of course, leads to my brain telling my body to eat more and more. I was always hungry. Since my body was starving (or so my brain thought) it would shut down at times to conserve energy. If I sat still for more than a few minutes, I would fall asleep. Dieting was and is very hard because my body already thinks I am starving to begin with.

My doctor started me on 25 MCG of synthroid about 6 years ago. Since then, on most visits where my blood was tested, my dosage has steadily increased to as much as 350 MCG and has now dropped to 300 MCG. Every time my doctor increased my dosage, I had a surge of energy for about two weeks until my body adjusted and then the appetite and lethargy returned.

I could commonly be heard to say, "Dieting doesn't work because my thyroid fights against it." This was a true statement.

My wife told me the biggest change she had seen was that I had put away my excuses. Now, mind you, most of my excuses were good and legitimate reasons. But even the best reason can become a crutch and an excuse if you try hard enough.

Am I still hungry a lot? Yes, I am.

Do I eat (graze) all day? No, I do not.

Does my back still hurt? Yes, it does.

Do I still get out and walk? Yes, I do.

Since beginning two weeks ago, I have not brought up my thyroid or TSH levels until this post. I have complained about my back hurting. Well, not really complained. I have stated that my back is hurting after my walks. I walk around my block. It is just over tree tenths of a mile. I try to walk it two to three times a day. I know it doesn't seem like much. However, it is two to three times a day more than I walked before. The muscles in my lower back begin to get stiff about two-thirds of the way around. At that point i have no choice but to finish. I have to get back home to cool down and sit down.

I would love to tell everyone that changing your eating and exercising habits is easy, but it isn't. It is tough, and tougher some days than others. The results, however, are worth it ten times over.

The hardest part was giving up my excuses.

past the first week .. shew

The first week has come and gone. It was wildly successful, which is the double edged sword. I lost 12 pounds and radically changed my eating habits. the changes were two-fold. They were:

1) I took notice of what I eat. I began eating healthier.

2) I took notice of when I eat. Regularly is the key.

Breakfast became a protein drink with 190 calories instead of a hit or miss fast food breakfast, or a whatever is left over in the fridge breakfast. i have found that when I know ahead of time what I am planning to eat, it keeps me on track.

Lunch became a healthy salad. I now keep a variety of salad fixin's in the fridge. The variety keeps it from becoming the 'same old thing' every day. At the start of the week, my wife and I will cut, slice, chop, and sort into individual baggies the ingredients of that weeks salads. So when it comes time to fix my daily salad, it is a matter of grabbing the individual baggies instead of doing the prep work daily. Too often in the past, lunch became whatever was quick to fix. Most of the time that was a couple of unhealthy sandwiches or fast food. Now, time is on my healthy side.

Supper became smaller. We always ate mostly healthy. We rarely fry things. we generally bake them or crock pot them. so, smaller portions was the key to changing supper/dinner. One trick my wife taught me was to use a smaller plate. This way, the food on the plate looks like more, fooling your brain into thinking you were still eating a large portion.

Snacks became fewer and healthier. I can't count the number of times I would open a large bag of chips for a snack while working on the computer. When I would look again, half the bag would be gone. Becoming more aware of what and when I am eating has eliminated this. Snacks are prepared or purchased in 100 to 150 calorie packs. If we buy a large bag of chips, we take appropriate size portions and repackage them. So, when we open a snack, when it is gone we are done. We are more aware. One of my favorite snacks is just to core an apple and slice it into 1/4" slices. One golden delicious apple is only 80 to 100 calories.

I am in the middle of week number 2. I have added walking to my daily routine. I still get hungry from time to time, but I think that is just because my body is still used to eating throughout the day, and not actual 'need nutrients' hunger.

I am 3 days from my next weigh in. I realize that 12 pounds a week is not only unhealthy, but unrealistic. So, I will be delighted to lose only a few pounds a week. This will still get me to my goal of losing 120 pounds total in one year. Fifty and a half weeks and one hundred eight pounds to go.

Poetry

Someone asked me to write a prayer poem for our Pastor .. here is the result:

The Shepherds

For the sake of their charge,

They stand in the gap

And make up the hedge,

In the heat and the cold

In the sun and in the rain

If they ache,

The sheep never hear

If their heart is heavy,

They try to shield the sheep

That the heaviness isn’t shared

For it is their burden to carry

In their sorrow, they still stand

In their weariness, they still stand

If they ask anything of their charge

They simply ask for prayer

This is their task

This is their burden

This is their joy

This is their glory

God, our master Shepherd

Give added strength

To our undershepherds

Give them added joys

For our shared sorrows

Give them added courage

For when our hearts are faint

Give them wisdom to know the way

And guidance to lead us home

Give me the power withal

To hold up their hands

For they often hold us

To hold up their souls

For they cry for our souls

To hold up their hearts

For they weep for our hearts

Bless them, O’ Lord

As they bless our lives

Ron Simpson, Jr.

August 15, 2010

poetry ..

A website (which shall remain nameless) posted a contest to write a love poem of fifteen words or less. In order to be able to enter the contest, you have to upgrade your membership from the 'free' kind to the 'pay' kind. I didn't find this out until after I had written my entry, and was not willing to upgrade (sigh.) I did, however, like the nameless results of my effort. Here they are:

Two hearts align

Two worlds collide

Two fates entwine

Two souls reside

In one love

Ron Simpson, Jr.

August 3, 2010

poetry .. for a friend .. "Hold On"

Hold on

I was holding on

Holding on to the ledge

My security was there

Holding on to the fear

That flying might just be falling

Holding on to the pain

Of loves lost in the past

I was holding on tightly

Until you

I felt my security begin to shift

To the feel of your arms around me

I felt my fear begin to fade

In the light you brought to my life

I felt the pain recede

Pushed away by your smile

Without trying or even realizing

I found myself falling

Far from my ledge

Far from my fear

Far from my pain

And then

You said

“hold on”

“What ?”

Ron Simpson, Jr.

August 1, 2010

Don’t sell your happiness .. poetry

Don’t sell your happiness

Don’t sell your happiness to any one person

There are a myriad of people in my life

In whom, I have invested some of my happiness

However, the bulk of my happiness still resides with me

I must be the ultimate author of my happiness

The bubbling wellspring still remains in my court

There are no friends that can take my happiness away

Understand, losing them will produce a sadness

And that sadness may continue for many days

But, the fountainhead of my happiness still flows

There is no family that can wipe away my happiness

Although loss or anger may generate a sorrow

And that sorrow may last a lengthy time

But still, in my plaza, there is a fountain

Where happiness continues to stream

There is no love of my life that can staunch my happiness

Although that happiness may be hidden for a time

Behind a seeming insurmountable wall of pain

But my happiness knows it will outlast

A wall of pains bricks mortared by hurt

It will trickle slowly through the seams

Until erosion forces the fall

And happiness washes away the remnants

But only,

If I have not sold my happiness to any one person

Ron Simpson, Jr.

August 1, 2010

Camelot .. poetry

Camelot

They were days we thought would never end

We were filled with all the wisdom

Fifteen or sixteen years could impart

Our kingdom was just a bus ride away

We navigated the obstacles with the ease of familiarity

We made friends with wondrous ease

We fell head over heels in love,

Sometimes more than once a week

Some of us found lifelong loves and partners

Some of us found lifelong callings and careers

We honed the basic life skills we learned in kindergarten

We found allies and rivals

We understood everything completely differently than we do today

We were living in Camelot and never knew

We called it by its dreaded nom de plume, high school

If it were a lifetime as we surmised,

We have lived more than two others since then

We learned who we are by learning who we were in History class

We learned the whys and how’s of the world’s workings in Science class

We learned the beauty and majesty of life

And how to capture it in English class

We learned that, although everything is life does not,

Everything in Math class does add up

We learned about the caste system in the cafeteria

We learned survival of the fittest in the gym

We learned about serenity in music class

Some thirty-five years has passed

And I can still recall the elations of high school

I can still that aloneness that sometimes came with is as well

I can still summon up the feeling of sitting in front of a blank test paper

I can remember the necessary blandness of cafeteria food

That was the reward of being part of the herd

And that is not a negative thing,

For it helped teach me the value of my uniqueness

I was and am collectively part of the class of ’75, WCHS

It is a label I will wear proudly

On the lapel of my individuality

It is part of who I am

But it is not the sum total of all that I am

Knox, Noble, Renfro, Sweet, Tippett, and Grimes

Scott, Richardson, Jones, and Dye

Will always have their hand in my life

As they tried (sometimes in vain, it seemed) to mold me

Every teacher I have had in my life lives through me

I left Camelot much different than the day I arrived

And I took a piece of Camelot with me

Ron Simpson, Jr.

July 18, 2010

Why ?

I don’t love you

Because it is what I am supposed to do

I don’t love you

Because it is what I need to do

I don’t love you

Because it is what I want to do

I don’t love you

For all the reasons I could say

That would be equally true

I love you

Because I don’t know how

Not to love you

That is not to say

That I shouldn’t

Or wouldn’t

Or don’t want to love you

Because I do

However

I still do not know

How to not love you

And

I am fine with that

Ron Simpson, Jr.

July 2, 2010

Impact

Some words bring vivid images to bear

For me, impact brings a collage of imagery

Impact

July 5, 1930

Eighty years ago, a star landed on earth

This star did not hit the earth like an asteroid

Or create the havoc of a falling star

I would imagine, for that era,

There was not much splash at all

Except for family and some close friends

The event went mainly unnoticed by humanity

However, in the heavens, there was notice

It has been eighty years since the first impact

That birth immediately impacted some

And then, weaving a bold, yet intricate thread

It has impacted thousands

A stranger could closely inspect this life

And ascertain that the effect was minimal

Yet, today, there is a multitude,

Impacted by this one single life

Immediate family, approaching one hundred

Church family, in the thousands

Associates, colleagues, neighbors, nearly uncountable

And, his star, shone brightly for them all

Even his casual passing changed people

Such was his impact

Closer to home

I hear him when I talk at times

I see him when I glance quickly at a mirror

I know, when I think about things, I feel his impact

He was the most important man in my life

For all the things people called him

Too some, he was pastor

Too others, he was friend

There were some that called him boss

And other that called him a co-worker

I was, and still am, thrilled to call him ‘dad’

Thank you Dad

For your immeasurable impact

In my life

Ron Simpson, Jr.

July 5, 2010

In words I can never utter .. poetry

In words I can never utter

Sometimes

I just forget

It isn’t that I forget to tell you

It isn’t that I forget how I feel

It isn’t even that I forget you want to know

I just forget

The words to tell you

I see the words

Float by my mind’s eye

I see their color and splash

I see the passion they seek to convey

And I see them falling short of the mark

Their colors are not vibrant enough

To paint the true collage of my love

I plait them with other words

Hoping to bring to bear

The fullness of my heart

And yet, it still fails

Then

I remember

The things I feel

When your fingers touch my skin

When I hear you breathing close to me

When I still taste you on my lips

Long after the kiss is past

I catch your scent

When you are not around

And I am once again overwhelmed

By your presence

I can close my eyes

And see you dancing among the words

That seek to capture how you make me feel

At that moment

I know

I will never really have the words

I will never possess the ability

To express

In letters expertly arranged

In syllables skillfully organized

In words capably displayed

The true pinnacle and profundity

Of what lives in my heart

Of what dances in my soul

Of what frolics in my mind

Of what love holds in me

For I am captured by you

I am a captive to your heart

In words

I can never utter

Ron Simpson, Jr.

June 29, 2010

in Celebration of Fathers

The man that saw me as a child and the child that saw me as a man

Can I tell you how hard I fought to grow up?

No matter what I did I still was the child

You were proud all my life when I did the grownup things

How delighted you were when I began to talk

How you beamed when I began to crawl and walk

Beginning school and even jobs eventually

Even as I grew into all the things men do

Part of me remained a child

That part that ever lived in the back of your eyes

There was a part of me that never left those days

When seeing the pride in your eyes was everything

Others could certify and recognize my accomplishments

The established authority could give me frame-able evidence

Still it paled in relationship to the feeling I got

When the child in my heart burst into your room

Excitedly carrying the proof of my accomplishment

To show it to you and to see once more

The child that still lived in the back of your eyes

I could see him, you know

He would awaken from some light slumber

He would come close to the side of your eyes

And as he heard you go on about whatever prize I had brought

He would begin to glow faintly

As you would scrutinize the evidence

As he read with you every word

Every whereas and hitherto

He would come to a sparkle

Barely noticeable to those gathered around

But the child half that resided within me

Saw the brother that still resided within you

And for that moment

I lived as a boy that still needed his father’s approval

For all our relationship may have become

This part of it seemed ordained to remain

The child that lived within me always needed to be in touch

With that child that lived still in the back of your eyes

That symbiosis sustaining both

Each carrying to and carrying from

Both the child I thought I would always be

And the child you thought you would always see

Then one day

Quite unexpectedly

You went away

The adult I had turned into knew the day would come

Even unexpectedly, my heart had tried to prepare me

I had filled my life with relationships designed to replace

I had established other ports to share my goods

They offered the heartfelt pat on the back

They brought the warmth of societal recognition to bear

They stood ready to replace

That one place that could never be replaced

For all their warmth and genuineness

They did not have the child I would always be

Living deep within the back of their eyes

No matter how often the child inside came to see

There was no child other half looking back at me

Dad, I miss so many things about our relationship

Others have stepped up to try to fill

No one does so in any attempt to take your place

They do so merely to fill your empty space

None of these, however, can fill this space

It has come to me finally some fifty plus years past my birth

That the child I recognized so intently in your eyes

The child that called out so earnestly to the child in mine

Was there before I was even born

He was in part, part of the joy you had for me as your son

And part of the child that lived in your eyes

That always looked for the child in his father’s eyes

I thought the child living in the back of my eyes would die

When you left so abruptly that day in March

I knew he would languish and pass without his symbiotic partner

But I have found, and none too soon

He lives just fine

He sparkles and shines

And exchanges his knowing glances

With the children that still live in the eyes of mine

My sons and daughters still seek him

Even if they do not know it

There is a child still living behind their adult eyes

And that child still bursts into dad’s room

Bearing the authentication of their accomplishments

They bring the frame-able evidence into the court

They know they are fulfilling the role of adult

But there is a child living deep inside

That comes to find the child living deep inside

And they sparkle and shine

As the children that never die

Behind the sparkles in dad’s eyes

I cannot see the child that lived in your eyes anymore

I will miss him ever

But his work and legacy go on

He has taught me to ever see

The children living deep inside

Hiding playfully behind

The adult in my children’s eyes

Ron Simpson, Jr.

March 27, 2009

in Celebration of Fathers

A Hero

As a growing boy

I had several heroes

Some wore capes

Some flew through the air

Some had webs

While others had glowing repulsor beams

My childhood heroes

Came in various sizes, shapes, and colors

They had special powers

With super secret identities

They had super foes

To provide spectacular battles

As I grew,

My heroes changed

They became more real

And worked their special abilities

In the real world

The same real world in which I lived

They were leaders

Men and women of peace

Or champions of important causes

They battled injustices

With the powers of the mind

And the weapon of the pen

Older now

And looking across a stretch of time

That sees the changes

Wrought by a near lifetime

Of growing and changing

My heroes have become closer

The caped flying warrior of justice

Still brings the smile to my boyish heart

The champions of world issues

Still stir my being to fight the good fight

However, now I can see the heroes

That have been with me all my life

You didn’t put on a cape and fight my foes

But you did keep me safe

You didn’t fight hunger in the world arena

But you worked, everyday, and fed a family

You have always been my champion

Even when the sparkle in my eyes

Was captured by some far distant star

You are one of my heroes, Dad

Even when I didn’t know what heroes were

You were there filling those shoes

Today, you will just smile

And say you were doing what fathers do

But, I will know,

That is part of being a hero too

Thanks for all the years

Of being my unsung hero

Ron Simpson, Jr.

June 18, 2006

in Celebration of Fathers

We Followed You

When we were young

We would follow you around the house

We would go from room to room

Crawling or toddling, as children do

We didn’t know where you were going

Or where the journey would end

We simply knew

We wanted to follow you

We were scattered severally

Over a ten year span

So, while some crawled, some walked

But each of us, in our own way

Followed you

You never really acknowledged

That you knew how closely we watched

Or how hard we tried to follow

But, I am sure you knew

And you led, and we followed

Some of us, or just one of us

So bold in our teenage rebellion

Promised we would never walk your paths

We would blaze our own trails

In opposite, or perhaps, obstinate directions

Not realizing, that in doing so

We were following you

You taught us to travel

And follow our own courses

You gave us more than you ever had

You didn’t change our diapers

Or feed us our meals

While some doctor of figuring out reasons

Would have a field day with that

Still, we never doubted your love

And still, we followed you

A while back

You stepped through a door

And we could follow you no more

At least, not for long while

But, you left a trail

A pattern, if you will

A shining example

We cannot follow you as closely

As when we crawled behind your heels

We can still follow you

We can follow your example

We can follow your life

That you lived fully and openly

We can follow your words

That you shared without hesitation

We can follow your heart

That you gave without reservation

We can follow your faith

That was manifest in everything you did

You lived right

You left too soon

I hope

When my day comes

I have the same faith

I have the same course

I hope

I have followed as you followed

I hope

We have followed you

Ron Simpson, Jr.

December 22, 2007

in Celebration of Fathers

The Child I Never Saw

When I met him,

He was as old as anyone I knew,

As we walked,

He aged, and I grew;

I never knew him unknowing,

I never saw him young,

I saw that shining warrior,

Of which many songs were sung;

He held me,

He clothed me,

He fed me,

I was the child,

He could not be;

As I played hide-n-seek,

He saw what my tomorrows might be,

He worked,

And he dreamed, for me;

He held faith,

He harbored hope,

He kept the dream,

I never saw the child,

But, hand in hand,

We walked in times stream;

The man I am today,

Belongs to the child I never saw.

Thanks, Dad.

Ron Simpson, Jr.

June 21, 2001

in Celebration of Fathers

this was written two weeks before Dad passed away ..

I Believe

He has been my teacher all of my life
The lessons ranged from simple to difficult
We have talked about life
And all the things that fill it
We even talked about the end of life
And what comes beyond

I see his lessons in the actions I take
I see his hand in numerous places in my life
Sometimes when I talk, I hear him
Saying the same words in another place
And that gives me a measure of confidence
To use the words already tried and true

One of the lessons Dad spoke of
Involved one of life’s hardest realities
He talked about a time
When he would not be here
He wasn't making plans
But knew that time’s eventuality
Would catch up to even him one day

Standing here, looking at you
More helpless than I have ever seen
I remember what you would say
If you were looking over my shoulder
I can hear the words you have spoken
And I know the reality

God is more than able
He is working all things
According to his time and plan
Be not afraid, only believe
Faith is the substance of things hoped for
The evidence of things not seen

These are the words
Tried and true
These are the words
You are still saying to me
And I believe, Dad
I believe.

Ron Simpson Jr

February 22, 2007

in Celebration of Fathers

Father’s Day

It seems being a father gets more difficult every year. The responsibility and decisions keep getting bigger. It was much easier to decide between the Malibu Barbie and the Glamour Barbie. It was easier to care for them then, seeing as how they were just sleeping in the next room. If something, anything, happened in the night, I was just a cry away. I remember how hard it was watching them, as they were sick or hurting. I remember how much I wanted their aches and pains to stop. I recall how we fretted about the fevers and the scraps.

Now days, the cry in the night comes across a phone line. The hallway between our bedrooms has grown by miles. No one warned me about how tough this was going to be. When my girls were young, I could get up in the night, walk quietly into their rooms, check their fevers, pull up the covers, and steal away back into my bedroom. When they cried, we were there to wipe the tears away. When I worry these days, I just have to worry. I cannot be there to wipe away the tears now.

I thought parenting would be much easier than this. My parents made it look so easy. Being in their place now, I realize how hard it was for them. I also understand that part of it never goes away. Rightly done, parenting is forever coupled with the worry. Worry ebbs like the tide. Some days it is low tide. Some days it is high tide. Every year the decisions change. It has gone from help with homework to help picking out a good insurance company. It has changed from helping with their dolls and tea parties, to helping with the grandchildren and real dinners.

Yes, being a father has grown way beyond my original expectations. It is more difficult. It entails much longer hours than I anticipated. The choices are harder every year. When I look at my daughters, however, I cannot wait. I will worry, as I should. I will be quiet when I need be. I will be the great tower of advice. It will be much harder next year, and I can hardly wait.

Ron Simpson, Jr.

Father of Audrey, Chasity, and Heather

Fill in Father for Chris, Sierra, Chelsea, and Kyle

Father’s Day 2004

in Celebration of Fathers

In celebration of Father's Day, I will post a poem each day this week dealing with fathers .. mostly mine .. since he was my shining example ..

From The Shore

There is a lighthouse standing,

O'er the rocky breaking shore

It's light a glaring bright,

It's horn, a lion's roar;

It clings to it's foundation,

Though progress crowds it's fragile perch,

For lost in deep and murky waters,

Desperate ships for him search;

He stands out from all the others,

His architecture old, but true,

When change is all around us,

He is always close to view;

Marking off his constant light,

Many ships have safely sailed,

Ignoring his oh so gentle roar,

Upon the rocks ships have failed;

There is a lighthouse standing,

Father, he is called,

Different from all the others,

For in him, Love is walled;

He looms above the crowded throng,

A tower filled with wonders much,

His roar, both stern and gentle,

His light, a probing and warming touch;

In deep and silent waters,

Needing directions from the shore,

I seek the bright and guiding light,

And listen for his lion's roar;

For though I pilot this wondrous ship,

I hope never to be alone,

For on the shore stands my father,

Guiding me from times more known;

Always be old, but true,

Always shine and roar,

Always be my guiding light,

Even from the shore;

Thank you, Dad.

Ron Simpson, Jr.

Father’s Day 1994

Catching Up

I have been catching up with old classmates on Facebook .. it seems that there have been many deaths among those sharing my graduation decade (the 70's) .. it prompted this ..

Catching up

I remember a time, and it seemed like yesterday

We walked the same halls and sat in the same desks

We were trapped in our lives or so we thought

“When I get out of here, I’m gone.”

It would be several times in the several years after

That we would run into old friends from those days

We would ‘catch up’ will our fellow escapees

And bring everyone up to date on all the news

Of course, then, the news consisted of job information

Or college information, or wedding information

We would see who did finally marry who

And who went to which university as planned

There would be the sad news of the rare death

An accident, or a sudden illness, or other cause

Years would pass in our lives and they took shape

And we would visit the old places on home visits

And there we would see the occasional classmate

And we would ‘catch up’

Now, the news would be about a career

Or we would talk about our children

And we would laugh about the old days

And how we never figured our lives

Would have turned out his way

And, oh yeah, did you hear about Steve’s death

“Oh my, no, please tell me what happened.”

Before you know it, you are getting reunion news

“Has it been that long?”

Familiar haunts, memorable faces, recognizable names

We share; we are well into our careers,

And the kids are growing up so fast

We have built a life somewhere else

But it is great to come home and ‘catch up’

We listen and share stories so common

For all our different paths

We are all so much alike

“Where’s Dave, I didn’t think he would miss a reunion.

No, I hadn’t heard. I am so sorry.”

Out of touch for so many years now

More and more ‘catching up’ is sad news

Those that were once just a handful

Now would fill our old school bus

Or maybe even more than one

Every time you hear a statement

That begins with, “Did you hear about ..”

Your heart flinches just a bit

It could be good news

It could bring elation

More and more though

It is the harbinger of sadness

And yet

Here we are

“Catching up.”

Ron Simpson, Jr.

June 5, 2010