~Niki

A place we go where the color of your skin is not an issue. You just help those in need.

I have much to share.  There were many unexpected challenges on this journey as there always is on any mission trip especially one to Haiti.  I am still gathering my thoughts and my words.  I am experiencing great sadness with things that occurred there including the deaths of an incredible woman that worked at Hope House during her delivery as well as the loss of one of the babies.  There is now a 4 year old little girl and a preemie without a mother.  The surviving family also does not want the child or the newborn as they are unable to take care of them.   I am not really ready to put it all out there yet as it brings me great sadness.  There were so many people affected by this loss and now we face the uncertainty of things to come for the surviving baby.  I ask for your thoughts and prayers for Baby Kimberly(Keam-Bear-Lay) and for her big sister Sophuni (So-fu-Ni)

Second, there were so many people helped by our medical mission team during our time there.  That is the part that brings me great JOY!  There was Unity among ourselves as a team and the people of Haiti.  We went into tent cities where the people have yet to get medical treatment since the earthquake. We saw the appreciation from the Haitian nurses of the tent cities who helped pull together the organization of our arrival.  As we left they had tears of thanks streaming down their faces.  I have many powerful images to share but the above image pretty much sums it up perfectly. UNITY! UNITY! UNITY!

 Much rest needed.  I am exhausted both mentally and physically but also have had my SOUL fed on an level that is beyond explaination or comprehension.  To understand that,  one would need to go on a mission to Haiti personally.  It is really the only way to truly understand.  Thanks to all of you who prayed for me, my family and for the rest of the team while we were helping others.  13oo men, women and children were helped by the medical team this week.  I am so grateful to have been a part of it.  It will be in my heart forever.  I already miss the mission team as well as the people of Haiti.  A HUGE piece of my heart will always belong to them.  They still need our help.  I think a lot of people have already forgotten that.  The devastation of the quake is still there.  It is takes your breath away at times.  Please don’t forget that.

Blessings!

~Niki

~N

I’m not really sure what prompted me to pick up the book, “One More Day” by Mitch Album today as I went to Starbucks to get a little work done.   I have already read it before.  There were several other books to be looked at on that rack as I awaited my Venti Cafe’ Americano with three pumps of caramel and a touch of Half & Half (sorry for the run on sentence but just wanted you to know my favorite coffee).

Nonetheless, felt the need to grab it so I gave in and “IT” messed me up.  Some of the things I read in there stuck with me on my drive to the airport this evening.  As I settled into my bed a little bit ago to work some more,  I look over at my book shelf and see it staring at me yet again.  I must have over  50 books sitting on that shelf  but that was the one to jump out once again.  Being super cozy I did not want to get up, but  decided to suck it up and take a third look at it.  Someone or something was sending me a message.

Up comes this quote almost immediately.  It’s pretty self-explainatory as I am sure you will agree.  I am trying to chew on it a bit and decipher why the Universe threw that one at me on a day like today.  It has been a week of  some pretty crazy energy all around.  I am trying to take it all in and continue to breathe.  Here it is…

“I hope you never hear those words. Your mom. She died. They are different than other words. They are too big to fit in your ears. They belong to some strange, heavy, powerful language that pounds away at the side of your head, a wrecking ball coming at you again and again, until finally, the words crack a hole large enough to fit inside your brain. And in so doing, they split you apart. ”
— Mitch Albom (For One More Day)

WOW… so you can see why I got slightly “Messed UP.”  Can’t you???  I have been trying for four years to put into words exactly how it felt the night my little boy found my mom.  I could not get to him fast enough.  This quote pretty much sums UP my feelings in a nut shell with regard to our loss and what was left behind to deal with.

As I have said before Mom always wanted her own LETTER.  So funny as I still have not been able to “go there”  I guess this is a start.  I miss her more than ever.  I miss her advice.  I miss her sense of humor and her endless creativity.  I miss her smile…  I was blessed with that smile.  I know she is one of my spiritual guides/guardian angels (however you choose to look at it) that watches over me, plants seeds of wisdom, signs, intuition, truth, strength, and protection in my life.  I know she is with me at certain times and taps on my shoulder telling me to hang in there, to keep working hard, to stay vibrant and to live my life to the fullest.

Perhaps SHE is the reason that book and that quote landed upon my lap today, or maybe I was just avoiding my ridiculous list of  TO DO’s and photo editing.  Perhaps it WILL be a source of healing.  I will get back to you on that.  But WOW… I was definitely amazed by how profoundly true those words were.

My brother Shane and I only wanted a few simple things when she passed.  But the main thing we wanted terribly was a jar of her buttons.  There were three. I recently photographed them in a way that I remembered playing with them as a child.  I thought back in my head of how many times he and I dumped them out to analyze each individual one.  I remember placing them in different rows and piles.  I would put the most sparkly ones first.  I remember picking my favorites, and separating them by color, shape or size.  It was a pretty special moment to dump them all out again at 36 in front of my own children all the while telling them about the simple-minded happiness they brought us. Thought I would  share a few with you…

Maybe photographing them coupled with the book, the quote, and  other events this week will bring about some peace.  Cherish your mom.  Re-read that quote again before you close out of this blog. Not because of it’s sadness but because it is REAL, RAW and TRUTHFUL.  Don’t take them for granted.  You are blessed to still have them.  For those of you who no longer have your moms….well you already get where I am coming from.  I am SO HAPPY to have gotten two jars of my Mamma’s buttons.

Peace,

~NIKI

P.S.  These were always my FAVORITE ONES as a little girl… The sparkly ones.

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)

   Well Monday was a very sad day at the Krupp House.  After almost 6 years of having a kind, loving, tolerant and loyal companion, we  had to say good-bye to our Labrador Retriever.  Tucker had his moments.  He loved to take off for an unannounced run when he got a chance which  usually resulted in one of us getting in the car to hunt him down and bring him home during the most inopportune times.  Sometimes, he would pace around to the point that you would go crazy inside and be unable to concentrate on what it was you were attempting to do.  He would hang out right under your feet and you would trip and fall because you forgot he was there.   He would want outside in the middle of the night right when you had just fallen asleep. 

     BUT… he also always knew where our three kids were and made sure they were always safe and watched over.  He especially looked after Jackson, our little wild man.  From the day Jackson was born,  Tucker would go upstairs and hang out at Jackson’s door while he napped during the day.  He never stopped doing that.  Then at night he would climb into Cameron’s bed where he had his very own blanket and pillow at the foot of the bed.  I never could figure out how Cameron could sleep with a dog pinning him down by the legs but he loved it.  Nonetheless, he was a really really good dog,  a really really loyal dog and we were blessed to know him, love him and call him a part of our family. 

     Cameron has had a really rough week.  Tucker was HIS dog.  It was clear.  No one else, just Cameron’s.  Those of you who have never really been blessed to have pets probably cannot believe I am even using up virtual space on a blog over this.   But those of you who have, know exactly why our family is so sad and why I have a little boy who is having trouble going to sleep at night without his best friend.  You also know why our house is strangely quiet now and why everything is just different. 

     Cancer is funny like that.  It takes people from you and it takes pets from you.  Actually,  it is not funny at all.  It is just one  BIG bummer all the way around if you ask me.  Please keep Cameron in your prayers as he is clearly struggling with this.  He is a little boy that at the young age of ten has experienced more loss than I care to share right now and to him…this is just another one that doesn’t get any easier. 

     Tucker~  Even though you had your moments that made me sigh and wonder why I had decided to ever become a pet owner, you brought us WAY more joy than inconvenience.  Thank you for your undying loyalty and your unconditional love.   You are deeply missed!

~Niki

I know he looks like KUJO here but he was just yawning after a nap.

Sophie misses you too! She keeps looking for you!

Sure I should be planting my vegetable garden but that can wait. I got my flowers done. So, I chose to be lazy with her and get some much needed clutter cleared from my head and my heart. I did some planning, writing, and dreaming. Then, we got bored. She wanted to do something but needs to stay down for two weeks of little to no activity. Thus we got out the artist palette of colored pencils, drawing paper, and oil pastel colors and we let the creating begin. WOW! She is really good. I mean good. Perhaps I am quite biased. She just went to town and ended up with some pretty incredible artwork which I must say is very worthy of framing. WHY? Because she CREATED it.

Then there is me, I do not hardly ever draw. It is definitely a weakness but I am always up for a good challenge and I always remember loving it when I was a little girl.

I was inspired myself by some drawings I saw in a blogging magazine and found one in particular that reminded me of Mother’s Day morning when I walked into a wall and broke my nose. DON’T ASK! It was so fun to do something different…something that is definitely not my STRONG SUIT…something that did not entail manual labor and working outside when that has pretty much been all I have done in recent weeks with the little bit of FREE TIME I do get.

Thanks for looking at our creations. No need for Critique. They are ours and we are proud of them. Plain and Simple. We were inspired and it was a GOOD THING! It was COOL to think out of the BOX and do something I never do and it was cool watching her do it so effortlessly. Hopefully she will be recovered and back to herself very very soon. Until then, I will give her all the drawing paper and oil pastels that she needs.

~Niki

Here is mine. As I said very much inspired from a blogging magazine and the artist was Diane Duda. I just love what I interpreted to be a band aide for a nose.