Growing Up Ronnie - and These Further Truths

One of the most influential people - would be my Nana.  My mother's mother.  (by adoption - that's a whole other story)  Nana was a complex, amazing soul and she was - in the years that I knew her - the poster child for Southern Baptist living.

My grandparents - Nana & Papaw - were avid and vocal Republicans.  In the 80s they donated various funds to the Reagan efforts of election and I remember a framed signed photo from 'Nancy and Ronnie' thanking my grandparents for their financial support to the Reagan cause.

How very glamorous in my young mind.

I grew up.  I made various choices - I became rather independent minded and it drove my grandmother crazy.  I was not/am not always right in my direction - but I try very hard to balance my own heart with the belief that I have been raised.

In 1996, I could vote in a Presidential election for the first time.  I was 20.  I watched debates.  I read the paper.  I tried my best to educate myself ... and I voted for Bill Clinton.  I did not (do not) consider this a fault.

Telling my grandparents - however - that admission on my part showed how quite unaware I was to the political differences and opinions of those I love.  They didn't talk to me for a month.  (However, these were an extraordinary couple who, when I disclosed my pregnancy at the age of 14, they were amazingly supportive and loving...)

Politics - man, how they divide us.  Politics/religion/financial class - these are - throughout history - dividing measures for much of society.

"Us and them," - these are dangerous lines. Often we buy into this prescribed version of 'reported' current events and history.  Maybe we hold ourselves afar from other religious beliefs or we cater to the media's version of fear and indoctrinated hate and suspicion.

I can't be part of this.  I won't be part of this.

I am consistently thankful for the diversity of individuals who have crossed my path.  These real life interactions have molded me - and  I realize my voice may often be the minority of my small world paths.

These - though - are my truths:

• The religious readings of every system speak of extremes that we would not allow in a civil society.
• I am a sinner of proportion past redemption - and yet - this is exactly what I'm offered. (Redemption.)
• I know "felons" who are some of the most admired people in my life.  I would give my all for each one of them.
• Love, in any form, is the light of this world - better check your anger, bigotry, and homophobia. 
• We cannot allow a world where fear invades the following: protection (2nd Amendment), free speech (1st Amendment) - and here - without Bill of Rights and Constitution - respect for your neighbor.

I'm incredibly - and always - verbal.  It's because of my true and very real belief in you - each and every one of you - that I'm this way.

And, frankly, I love being this way.

May love and light grace your paths.

- Simone

22 Years Ago - Mom

22 years ago today I got a life changing, bone-jarring phone call.

"Your name is Simone Frigo."

"Yes."

"Is your mother Nicki Hite?"

"Yes - is she okay..."

"Ma'am, I hate to tell you... but..."

The rest was a roller coaster of letting everyone else know - calling - finding - comforting...

Her parents, my Nana and Papaw, were on vacation in Ruidoso at their cabin.  I had to call the church in Lovington, New Mexico so my Great Uncle Joe could find them.

Jimi - my oldest brother - literally challenged me and then ran out the door - trying to outrun the truth that our mother was dead.

Joe - my second to oldest brother - laid his head upon my dining room table and wept.

John found out from our aunt and uncle at the military school he was currently attending.

... I was just 17.  Just.  It was 6 days past my birthday - and I was dealing with moving her body from San Angelo to Abilene.  Getting in touch with Grandma Eva - my mother's birth mom - coordinating people - comforting friends who were my age but had known my mother well - comforting my grandparents - arguing the place of mom's burial - she never said anything good about New Mexico - I could not allow her to be buried there.  Agreeing to a casket - ... it was hell for a seventeen year old.

My husband, Robert, was watching over me - mentioning, "you need to rest... you need to sleep..."  How could I sleep?  How could I rest?  My mother was dead - I needed to take care of people - I needed to take care.... of...

Her.  I have blogged ad nauseam about the relationship with my mom. Her death changed me - her life changed me.  We switched rolls often - and I will venture to say I knew her better than most - and likely more than I should have.

I miss her.  Still.  22 years later.  I miss her laugh - I can't tell you how many times she and I would be so tickled by something that we were rolling with tears streaming down our faces.  I miss her writing.  She saw the world so differently - in a good way.  I wish she could see all of her
grandchildren - she only met Meredith - because she would be as proud of Jimi and John as I am - they have beautiful children.

She would have, likely, tried to talk me out of moving to Montana.  Change wasn't her strong point - and change with chance was downright intimidating. Secretly, though, she would have been really proud of how I make a decision and just go with it.  I did not become the woman dictated by her past - but I am strengthened by every single bump, hill, and mountain.

She was a daughter, a mother, a sister, a wife, an aunt, a friend, a writer, a kind soul, a haunted past, a singer, a cousin, a comedian, a daughter - and so much more than each of these titles will tell you.  She was married, divorced - married - and God love her - she was, most days, just trying to survive.

I write that - "God love her" - it's a phrase I use often.  But - here - it carries a different meaning.

She believed in the grace of God.  She was a sinner who believed in the mercy and love of her Savior. With the very few consistencies that she instilled - she did make her love of the Lord very clear and the importance of our choice in spiritual path - hoping that we would find our way to Him.

22 years.  That's more than half my life.

Nicki Dianne Hale Hite Simpson (Mary Gibson) - we honor you today.  We love you.

Love,
Jimi, Joe, Simone & John
(and every single life you touched)

Father's Day Adventures - Traveling Opportunity

Montana has molded me into a soul that discovers.

For that matter, since I've arrived in this lovely 41st State of the Union, I can't help but search for the road that goes "higher" or those roads that are unpaved.

But this is not the story of Simone.

Today, Father's Day, JT and I wandered up a known road - trying to find paths that we didn't  take the first time around when, much to JT's frustration, we happened upon a bicyclist who slowed our progression.  JT didn't want to pass him because we had already seen multiple ATV riders on narrow curves - ... so the jeep slowed... and slowed... uphill...

"Wait til' this next turn," I told him.  Then you can pass.

And we did... and we both glanced at this bicyclist - wondering, 'what in the world is he doing this far, this high up... '

And we kept going.

Nearing a clearing in the woods, continuing up the mountain, - we stopped to let Dexter run.  After 20-25 minutes I glanced behind our parked, bikini-less Jeep and said.. "Look.  There he is again."

Walking now, his mountain bike alongside him, was the man we followed and passed before.

He called out, "You wouldn't have any extra water, would you?"

... A side note, for those who have not traveled with me...  I pack like we're going into war, or the forest, or Carlsbad Caverns, or the Grand Canyon, or... just go with me...  it's how I'm made... I'm predispositioned to be the person who packs with "what if... " in mind...  

"Yes, we have water," JT called to the man.  And so they worked out filling a bit from the ice chest and and a bit from our water reserve.

The stranger mentioned, "There aren't many signs around here.  I think I missed my turn to Lincoln."  JT glanced at me - I looked around.  We have learned that most Montana folks don't typically take well to correction or direction - we explained we were recent transplants from Texas and JT offered the man one of our blankets (stored in the back of the Jeep) - he declined, thanked us for the water and continued UPHILL on his way.

JT and I loaded up Dexter, looked forward at the bicyclist and discussed, "Lincoln is not this way."  "Not on this road."  "Do you think he can fit in the jeep with his bike?"  "Think we can get Dexter in the front and he and his bike in the back?"  ...

I said, thinking of the determined men and my own determined soul - "Let's just go and we'll keep our eye out for him..."  And so we did...  We went up and up - on old paved roads - on roads that took us to the first Mason gathering of Montana (1862?) ...  We walked around, took photos, scolded Dexter for moving logs to get mice or small animals .. and then we headed on our way...

And then... we saw him again... passing....

"You sure you're okay?"  "It's going to rain soon."

He said, at the top of this mountain, "I'm okay, I have a down-sleeping bag here..."  He pointed to a pink bag covering a pack on the back of his bike... for that matter, he had a pink bag protecting items on the front of his bike... and pink and silver strands on another area...

"Okay... "  "Be safe," we offered...

As we drove past, and JT decided to travel a road that was not of my choosing, we discussed the man again... "Do you think he'll be okay?"  "It's awfully cold up here..."  "Did you notice the pink?"  "Maybe it's for breast cancer awareness..."

I mentioned, "Did you see the camera he had recording us the last time we passed?"  "Was that a camera?"  "Yes, yes it was...."

And so we drove on - discovering roads that we have never traveled upon, drops of rain falling upon us ... "Look," JT mentioned - "there is a great camping spot."   A few miles down the lane - crowded with trees, bushes, flowers - we look to the left and another camping spot presented itself.   Soon - a mile or more - we see a more traveled road and look left and right  -   "Right" we decide, and off we went.

There were areas of cattle - lots of calves with their mothers, cattle guards, more calves, more mothers - a few bulls - another cattle guard - we realized a spot left of another T in the road and pulled over to take a break and do what nature requires.... about 10 minutes into our looking around and breaking I look at the crest on the rise we just crossed and ...

"There he is again!"  We both watch as the man on the bike worked his way through the calves and their moms - he crossed the last cattle guard and then peddled our way...

"Is it dinner time?" he called....  JT and I both waved - smiled... welcomed this man that we kept passing and worrying over along this day's adventure.

He told us his name.  He was, in fact, recording part his adventures for a movie he was making.  There was a ride from El Paso to Alberta Canada - he had completed this ride last year, but this year decided to handle the Montana portion of the ride - his bearings were a bit discombobulated from the Garmin that was giving him great and not so great directions.  He has a wife in Detroit, a daugther in Kalispell and was quite kind and agreeable.

He listened to our story - offered us his business card - and we refilled his water reservoir.

Before he went on his way he mentioned, "Make sure you email me and I'll send you a link to the movie - you're the people who saved me on Priest Pass..."

And on his way he went...  we turned around and returned home on roads that we had already discovered...  because it's Father's Day and JT wanted to watch a certain baseball game.

... and I sit here sending our prayers and good tidings to this traveler... I wish him well, I wish him good speed, God speed ... may kind souls cross his path.

And that, dear reader, is my blog for the day.

May you always offer water, be kind to strangers, and be aware of the opportunity to serve others.

Much love - it's crazy beautiful here....

- Simone

WARNING: Incline, Laughter, Amazing Locals, Corporate America, and You

Random blog - ready?

...

True story.  You're going to laugh.  It's funny now - it was not funny then.

In my broken ankleness, I have this knee scooter thing.  You put your knee on it and wheel around pushing with your other leg.  It's not too bad - why didn't I have one of these sooner. (Side note: it was cheaper for me to just order one online than it was to do a rental with insurance.  Amazon: $170.  DME Purchase: $900 or $75 a month.)  Anywho - it's difficult to get around still, have to focus on where I'm going, take the turns, can't move too fast.

The cool part is, in the apartment building, I can scoot off fast and then take the turns with both legs up.  That's fun.

(Looking down from Mt. Helena - see the green arrow - that's where we are...)

(Looking up from downtown, Last Chance Gulch Street)


What is NOT fun - not fun at all - (but funny) is going down a slope.  Uphill or slope, not difficult, just push, push, push.... whew... what a workout.  Going downhill you have to use the hand brakes and your foot to 'skid' to a stop.

A few days ago, I decided to go out by myself.  I had not done this yet, but was determined.

Exiting the apartment - difficult because I go down a hall, turn right, turn right again - open one of the double doors to the loading dock of the apartments, have to lift the scooter up the one step to the outside, put my weight on the doors, lift, get on the scooter.  Up the loading area - up the sidewalk - think "UP" - we live close to the bottom of Mount Helena - it's a bit of an incline.

So I push off, up the sidewalk, up the sidewalk - thinking how thankful I am for Ben, the personal trainer, for strengthening my core and legs for this broken ankle adventure.  Dexter, the best dog in the world, is following me and watching me carefully.  We make it to the back sidewalk of the apartment, walking/scooting - he does his business - and after 10 minutes or so I decide to walk back.

Rolling down the sidewalk, brake - brake - foot skid - brake - brake - food skid.  Brake, brake - foot skid... too fast, too fast, too fast!

Soon I find myself out of control, the handlebars are agitating erratically and I realize...

"@#%^... I'm going down."

And I did.  I fell hard - on the cement wall of the loading dock and the ground.  Immediately I attempt to right myself and Dexter is doing his best to inspect me and ascertain my condition.

Looking around - knowing SOMEONE saw this - I wheeled back into the building, apartment, couch... and assessed my condition.

Skinned knee and palm... HU-MIL-I-ATED.

I laid my head back with a racing mind, "Who does this?"  "Did anyone see me?"  "Did I mess up my knee more?"  "These brakes stink!"  "AHHH!"

I am clumsy.  In fact, I'm the president of falling and injuring - but I sure have the best intentions in getting to the places I want to go.

This entire story - play it in your mind again - and now that a week has passed - this is really funny.  It's movie, ironic funny.

The short story - downhill is more than a knee scooter, broken ankle Simone can handle.

...

How's everyone?  May is right around the corner and there are so many plans for June, August and September.

These Montana friends have been out of this world awesome.  (Out of this world!!)  I consider myself blessed - loved - and thankful.  (Very thankful.)

...

I'm really blessed that my employer is allowing me to work from home.  My department does not typically allow the long-term work from home experience but my new boss (and former boss) made this happen.

When I started working for this company our bestest friends said, "You're not going to like it.  Corporate America is not your speed."

I think, in any other circumstance, they would have likely been right.  But, crazy enough, I get this company.   It gets me.

...

That is all.

I wish you stories that make you laugh - make you thankful - and make you challenged.

And, hey, there is crazy light and love coming all the way from Montana - close to the bottom of Mt. Helena.... which is more steep than I realized.

- Simone

Week One of Broken and Blessed - and grumpy

I have had a pity party for one this week.

It's ridiculous really.

There are people who have known pain and hunger all their life - and one week of a broken ankle and I'm an odd version of ridiculousness.

If you don't know - early in the 21st Century (it sounds good outlining it like this) - I broke my other (left) ankle many years ago.  I didn't realize it was broken at the time - I was trying to be a tough woman - so I didn't recognize the injury.

Over 8 days later an orthopedic surgeon advised me as follows: "Your ankle was broken and now it is obliterated after walking on it for so long..."  He sent me to a specialist in Dallas - the coolest doctor who had just rebuilt Emitt Smith's ankle - and then he rebuilt my ankle.

...

I am frustrated with this current injury.  I've had weeks of working out with a personal trainer - I've worked on walking around this beautiful Montana area and I've made it a point to adventure - DagNabIt - this just ticks me off.

I know I'm clumsy, and if you know, you know I'm clumsy - but I just don't have time for this.

This past Wednesday the doctor was looking at my ankle and then turned his attention to my knee.  "We'll look at the ankle now  - but next week, we'll have to look at this knee."  I must admit to sighing at him.

A funny part of this story is his request that I explain what happened when I fell...

"I fell - and then I jumped up...."

I told him - just as I've told so many doctors and teachers before...

You have 3 brothers - and frankly - if you fall - you'd best jump up and say, "I'm fine!"  ... there's no other option.

So pity party for one - I'm disliking this downtime - a lot - but I realize how blessed I am.

And, I am blessed.  I realize this.

Much love from the Montana State.

Which is currently broken - but loving you muchly.

- Simone

So many topics - SQUIRREL

Having one of those days where my mind is jumping around from topic to topic - so I thought I'd blog.

...

Anyone see the news about this "free-range" parenting concept?  Otherwise known as, raised before 1985?  In the same vein of thinking, I ran across this Time Magazine article:    http://time.com/3720541/how-to-parent-like-a-german/

We all know - or if you don't know - I'm partial to my Germans.  I say my Germans because in 2007 this beautiful 15 year old girl named Melanie, a German exchange student, came to live with a single mom in West Texas.   There are so many great stories - I'll need to start writing them down - but Melanie became/is my family.  Her parents and grandparents are my family.  My daughter spent 6 weeks with Wolfgang, Karin and Melanie and, later, I spent 10 days in Germany with them.

I fell in love with Germany.  I completely love the Stoelck family as my own - and the article hit on topics I saw with Melanie - and what I observed with parents in Germany.  I don't understand the helicopter parenting  - I think it raises extremely dependent children and that worries me for future generations.  My parents, although not a model for great parenting, let us run and explore and walk home from school - we survived and are all amazingly independent people.

I made a lot of mistakes as a parent.  (Oh, so many)  But - I hope I instilled a sense of independence and understanding of the limitless power of a "can do" spirit.

...

It snowed here yesterday.  I missed it because I was in a drugged stupor and the blinds in the apartment were closed all day.  My neighbors, co-workers, and friends continue to pour support upon JT and I: yesterday lunch was delivered, then fresh bread from a local bakery, early grey chocolate cake and a foot-scooter device that lets me scoot around with my foot up instead of balancing around and hopping with two-sticks.

It is very hard for me to accept help.  I'm learning.

...

I'm forming a blog about man-bashing - I'm tired of it.

...

In June, our best couple friends will be here with their kids.  In August, our two middle kids will be here.  In September, we'll be headed back to Texas for a Simpson Family Reunion near Waco.  I've got to get healed up so I can join in all this fun.

...

That's it.  More later - love to you from a broken, but blessed, Montana.

- Simone

Accepting Blessings - With A Little Help From My Friends

So - yesterday I fell.  This is not unusual.  I fall.

The doctor saw a fracture in my heel bone and informed me that I broke off the tip of the ankle bone.

This is not the point of this writing...

...

In Texas, should this occur, I would have Athena, Kim, Diane, Rebecca, Becky, the kids, and so many other friends and family close that, should I need something, I know they'd be there.

Falling and breaking something in Montana - what I've found - is a pretty amazing group of friends here.  ... I am so blessed.

Tonight, Jami, a friend I met through work, showed up with roasted chicken, flowers, soup and more... My department pitching in to take care of me while I'm down and out.

I've had so many offers from local Montana friends -  various forms of support - it humbles me.  It makes me less homesick and more appreciative of these great people who have crossed my path and planted themselves in my heart.

I am not very good of asking for help or accepting it - but - really - this day is a reminder that part of living a balanced life is being receptive to and accepting blessings.

...

I have lots of blog topics floating through my mind... lucky for me, I'm going to have the downtime to make those blogs happen.

Love to you.  In my drugged stupor - just crazy good love.

- Simone