Nichol Krupp Photography

Life is hard sometimes.   REALLY hard.  We don’t really know why one family gets their parents for what seems like forever and why another loses them early on before what would seem like is way before their time.  That can happen from a sudden death or from a disease like Alzheimer’s.  I am trying, searching and praying for the silver lining here.   There are lots of things we should be happy about today, lots of things that I am happy about.   We have all pulled together as a family this week.  People who have drifted apart have grown closer.  We have spent more time together than we have in years.  We have prayed together, cried together, laughed together and surrounded Punk with more love and positive energy than he has had in one room all at once ever before.  I am proud of every single person in this family.  My sister put it best when she said she feels that he knew what everyone could handle.  He also knew there was a reunion going on in his room and I think he completely enjoyed it and wanted to soak it all up.  Not just for a few hours but for days. 

There were people telling stories one after the other.  If you knew Punk Simpson, you knew it was a story that ended in a laugh, a fight or both.  That is what we loved about him.  He is at peace now.  He has his dignity back.  I was worried I would not get there in time and ended up getting to spend an entire week with him.  If you knew our dad at all you would know that he had no intention of making his transition early.  My brother Shane knew that.  It just took me a little bit to catch on.  He had a mission to complete and    “BI-God” he was going to complete it.   It is tough sometimes knowing that you are not the one in control of things and that you do not get to make the decisions.  The past several days have been one of those moments that was out of our hands.  It was painful to watch.  There were so many close calls.  So many times that the experts and his caretakers came into his room shaking their heads in amazement that he was still with us.  Some of them would be off for several days and come back into his room, kiss him on his cheek or forehead, tell him they loved him and then just shake their heads as they left his room.  Some of them said it should not be possible.  I remember one of the Hospice nurses asking what his personality was like?  Was he a pretty stubborn guy?  Determined?  Strong Willed?  Uhhhhh…YES to all of the above!  She said, “Well, there you have it.”

Last Sunday night,  Brenda, Punkie, Keith, Shane and I all piled into his room sleeping on chairs, floors and bean bags. I think a few of us even slept standing up.  We did not want to leave him alone.  We sat with him and surrounded him with love, strength, grace, stories, laughter and prayer.  I looked over at Shane and said, why do you have that smirk on your face or as Punk would call it…that shit eaten’ grin?  I wanted to know what he was thinking about.  Shane just smiled, leaned forward, narrowed his eyes in at me and said…I am actually just SO Damn PROUD right now.  It changed my perspective a bit on things and actually brought about some peace inside of me throughout the next several days.  Our Dad did not pass until the following Friday afternoon.  He fought so hard. He had something to prove.   He went without nourishment for days and days and then decided when it was his time.  He was waiting for something or someone.  There were only two people who knew when it was his time and that was My Dad and the man he so often called … ”The Big Guy Upstairs.”  He had one last goodbye to say and one in particular we believed he was waiting for which was my amazing nephew, his grandson, Punkie the  4^th   who came straight  to see him from his flight home from Iraq.   Our dad passed thirty minutes after Little Punkie said goodbye to him in person and left the building.  

True to his character…HE had the last word.  His Mission was complete.  He is now with those who left before him with a big grin on his face, a Marlboro Light in the corner of his mouth and a Diet Pepsi in Hand.  My sister in law Brenda said, “I bet I know the first thing he said when he saw your mom waiting for him.”  I said, “What’s that?”  and she said, ”Hey Babe!”   He now has his memory back.  He is not tired. His knees don’t hurt.  Everything is right.  His spirit is strong and now we all have just one more person to watch over us and to keep us in line. 

 I rest knowing that he is in a way better place than he was before.  I rest knowing he is with his parents, his sister, and his wife.    I rest knowing that he can be remembered for the great things he did in his life.  He was an amazing baseball coach.  He was an accountant and a sheriff’s deputy.  He was passionate in what he believed.  He helped with political campaigns.  He was a hunter, a fisher, a camper, and an archer.  He cooked some of the most amazing Chili, hamburgers, scallop potatoes and ham, queso dip and tacos you have EVER had!  He was a middle of the night guy.  He would sit at his kitchen table and sharpen his knives, eat cheese, saltines crackers crushed in a bowl of milk (I never quite got that one), chips, circus peanuts, sugar wafers and Braunschweiger.  He would write love notes for my mom to wake up to and I am blessed to have a few of my own which he wrote me when I was back home visiting .  They always ended with the letters I.L.Y.M, which meant I LOVE YOU MORE.  It was his signature line.  And although he really liked to be in his own place, his home, his space… It does not change for one minute how very much he loved his family and how very proud he always was of each and every one of them.  He loved his little girl Lori.  He called her Midgey and loved buying her big bags of peanut M& M’s.  He loved that his son Punkie 3^rd  was a fire fighter and a great father himself.  He bragged about him all the time.  He loved that Brock was an amazing athlete and that Little Punkie was the absolute spitting image of him as a young man who is now a soldier in Iraq fighting for your safety and mine.  He always talked about how beautiful Rylee was.  That Cameron was going to be on Broadway or a lobbyist in Washington.  He bragged about what a great soccer player Walker was and that Addy was just so darn sweet and how she looked just like me.  There are little ones he did not get to know so well after he got sick but he still loved them greatly and he loved who his kids chose as spouses.

He loved to play cards, but boy did he hate to lose.  He loved that whenever I came home to visit after growing up and moving away that my sister and I would crawl in bed with him and my mom on a work night and giggle for hours while he tooted in the bed in a desperate attempt to get us to leave the room.  He would eventually give up and just giggle right along with us.  He loved his life before he started to get sick and that is the stuff I try to remember.   He read all of the time, he loved bird watching.  He was a carpenter who loved working out in his wood shop, a friend and a man who loved deeply and passionately.  I have heard a lot of people over the years say boy if he was your friend he was REALLY your friend and if he was not your friend….WATCH OUT!  Let’s just say you really kind of wanted him to be your friend.   He seemed to know EVERYONE whenever you went out in public.  My brother Shane said he stopped going to the grocery store with him because he knew he would not make it home for hours and hours as he would be stuck in the chip aisle while Punk talked to what seemed like everyone in town. 

 He was a photographer and I would say the biggest reason that I had such a passion for photography and am now very successful at my craft.  He loved his German Shepherds and every single one of his children.  He loved hard and he worked hard.  Oh yes, and did I mention he was stubborn as heck.  We definitely got it from both sides.  But Punk raised us from the time that we were small children.  It would only be natural that we would pick up so many of his traits.   He supported us.  He challenged us and he worked us…HARD!!!  He called it FIELD DAY, WE CALLED IT HELL. 

He loved us.  He taught us right from wrong and boy if we did wrong WE PAID for it. He was a bit quirky about some things like who used his bath towels.  The only problem was that if you were a guest in his house you did not know that certain towels in the closet were HIS towels. He was quirky about ice cube trays being filled and about things being in order.  There are so many things that made him who he was.   Most of all, he was opinionated and did not like it if you disagreed with him.  Sometimes,  I feel bad for our spouses because that personality trait  has certainly been passed down.  He molded and shaped us.  He blessed us.  There were moments where he granted us Grace and got us out of trouble.  He got us out of speeding tickets….but ONLY ONE.  He taught us all how to shoot a gun and handle them safely.  He taught us how to protect and defend ourselves and he told us we were never to fight unless someone threw the first punch.  Then, he said, if that happens  DO NOT come home unless you have won.  He was funny and if you knew him at all you knew that he had an infectious giggle that lit up the entire room. 

He would take us sledding in his bibs and once in a while he would hop his large 6’4” 265 lb. frame on a sled tied to the back of a three-wheeler and let us take him over the terraces until the runners of the sled finally buckled.  He took us to Mill Creek and taught us how to bait a trout line, eliminate snapping turtles with large rocks and seine for minnows.  He taught us that sleeping  around a campfire under the stars with no tent was a good thing.   He was a second father figure to many of our friends when they needed one.  It did not matter if it was a Sunday night or a Wednesday there were many times when my friends just needed to come over, spend the night, eat dinner and hang out …no questions asked.  His door was always open and I think he looked forward to it.  He usually had a nickname for them whether it was Shitannon, Shadow, Bird or Leona.   He had names for his kids too like Bubble Butt, Loose Lip Lucy and Brown Noser.  I am sure many of you know who those names belonged too.  There are So MANY MANY Punk-Isms out there you could write a book.  Way too many to bring up here.  

He raised two amazing children of his own and then added three more to the mix for which I am SO SO grateful.  If I were him I would have been ready to BE DONE but you see, I want to throw out a different perspective here.  We were blessed with him.  He was brought to us.  He found us…Bob, Shane, Myself and My Mom and I BELIEVE he SAVED US.  If it were not for him, I honestly do not know where we would be today.  Punk Simpson was our blessing from above.  He really was.  He Taught Us, Shaped Us, Molded Us, and Loved Us.  For that I will be eternally grateful.   He also loved our mom. I am still yet to see a couple that after twenty plus years were still “googly” as Punk called it.  They were truly soul mates.   He is a big part of why we all have the work ethic that we do and why I fold the towels the right way.  YES…THERE IS A RIGHT WAY TO FOLD TOWELS!  He had high expectations for us all and never wavered in that respect.  He was a proud father and the ONLY father I have ever known.  I will miss him.  I loved him deeply and the world will not be the same without him in it.  Alzheimer’s is a horrible disease that kind of took a big piece of him a long time ago but the finality of this is much more difficult than I could have ever imagined.    I thank you all for being here and just wanted to give you a little more insight into OUR DAD.  As most of you already knew, he was a character and the heavens are a shining a bit brighter today with his presence.  We Love And Miss You Dad.

Love,

Nik (aka. Loose Lip Lucy because I talk so much)