Remembering Timpa

 

Timothy Ray Ridge, my father-in-law, and my very dear friend, died unexpectedly of a heart attack in the early hours of the morning on Sunday, December 20th; after visiting his mother Carol through a window at her assisted living home with his wife Barbara, sister Dawn and her grandchildren, his daughter and son-in-law, and three of his seven loving and energetic grandchildren.  He passed after seeing his beloved Ohio State Buckeyes clinch the Big10 Championship after fewer games played than in any other season in history.  But knowing Tim, he had watched every minute there was to watch this year. He was certainly a fan of the Buckeyes, but an even bigger fan of his family.  He watched hours upon hours of his grandchildren’s soccer games, football games, swim meets, baseball games, track meets, cross country meets, choir concerts, band concerts, piano recitals, and holiday programs.  He genuinely enjoyed every single minute of it.  He was a true fan of his family and everyone in it.  

Tim cheered on his beloved son Sean and beautiful daughter Tanya through decades of youth sports, not as a spectator, but as a coach, and even as a soccer league administrator.  When his kids aged out of teams he could coach he transitioned to the role of FIFA certified soccer referee, a role he took a great deal of pride in, investing in the young players, he loved the game, but loved the players and what they learned from it so much more.  He was a fan of Sean as he completed his college education, earning a doctorate after several master’s degrees, and eventually becoming a Dean and professor at Johnson University.  This was a point of great pride for Tim. 

As proud as he was of Sean’s education and vocation, he was infinitely more proud of Sean’s family.  Tim loved his daughter-in-law Beth dearly and their four children and thought of them daily, cheering for their sports, life, and academic achievements from Ohio, and visiting them in Tennessee as often as he was able.  Tim genuinely loved Ethan, Charis, Levi, and Zeke and wanted them to know, even though he struggled at times with how to say it, that each of them was uniquely loved and immensely important to him.

 

Tim and Barb have been active and indispensable in the life of their daughter and her family.  They were constant sources of babysitting, puppysitting, and support as they moved from Swanton, to Jackson, to Orrville and eventually to Ashland, where Tim and Barb finally settled.  They moved each time to be close to family, to invest themselves, and to share life with them.  Tim and Barb were present at nearly every possible event of “the boys”, even in the difficult 2020 seasons.  Caedon, Brody and Greyson, who nearly shared a birthday with Tim, will miss him at every event from here on out.  Tim was incredibly proud of his daughter and her career as a nurse, but even more so of the life she worked to create with her husband Chris.  Tim enjoyed watching the couple learn life’s many lessons and was always both encouraging and ornery in his advice and admiration regarding their milestones and achievements.  

Before being a grandfather, even a father, Tim was a husband.  He loved Barbara unconditionally for nearly 50 years.  He took his role as provider seriously, and he provided Barb with the best life he possibly could, but most of all, he truly valued her as his constant partner and participant in the life they shared, a life of love.  Love of God, and His only son Jesus.  Love of his son and daughter and their spouses.  Love of his grandchildren.  Love of his mother, his sister, and her family.  Love of his four-legged furry sidekick, Kibbles. 

Life took Tim from Findlay, Ohio to Slippery Rock, Pennsylvania where he played football for the university and won the heart of Barbara, to Morocco, Africa where their son was born, to Coldwater, Michigan where his daughter was born, to Swanton, Ohio where they raised their family and where he worked as an air traffic controller, to wherever he felt he was needed most to support and cheer on his family.  And now, near the end of this crazy year, he moves to Heaven, where he is now praising the Jesus he knew so well, spending Christmas this year in the presence of his Lord and Savior.

Tim will be missed by those who loved him, which, quite honestly, is nearly everyone who was lucky enough to have known him.  His quiet, but mischievous nature was magnetic.  He will be missed by his mother and sister, by his son and daughter, by his grandchildren, by former coworkers and teammates, by students on the buses he drove and by me, his son-in-law, who would give nearly anything for one more cup of coffee, or glass of wine with him.  Tim was a good, good man and a very good friend, and I will miss him the rest of my days as I spend them doing my best to love his daughter and grandsons, along with the rest of the family, unconditionally; with just a touch of ornery, just like he taught me.

May my Merry Christmas be sincere and my Hello be an opening line...

There are so many things that occur in the busy everyday, that don’t seem significant, that pass by without notice or circumstance, fading into the ether of a random day’s agenda...

Among these are the dozens of hallway glances, the office hellos and goodbyes, the “how was your weekends” and the routine conversations at the coffee pot or check out line.  

We go through life assuming these are merely mundane and manuscript, normal fodder for normal days...throwaway interactions and nondescript moments.

Oh...but what if they weren’t.  What if they were so much more.  What if every human interaction was viewed through the lens of one God-intentioned creation colliding with another God-intentioned creation, in the urgent present tense of a designed and distinct moment in the universe.  

What if we woke up and we realized that every human interaction, whether at the checkout lane or church parking lot was one that held inherent value and yet to be unpacked mystery.  All of us have a story behind our everyday persona, what if we cared enough to encourage one another to tell it, even just a part of it?  We are all worthy of a Paul Harvey monologue on what brought us to today. 

 We all have dreams that have been put on a shelf or in some cases put out to the curb.  We all want to explain what they were.  We all have a wish for whats next, what if we could communicate that to an ear eager to hear it? We all are designed for community and long to be known and to truly know others in our world.  We are all unbearably lonely, though few will openly admit it, and yet in this highly populated, constantly moving world we are rarely alone. 

So why are we perpetually too busy for more than just hello? Why is small talk the biggest investment we are willing to make?  Why are we willing to send a text or like a post but unwilling to make or answer an actual call?  When did a visit or catching up over coffee become too much to squeeze into the calendar?

Something in our very souls have been changed by the modern  world.  A longing for real connection has somehow been traded for the cheap substitute of clicks and likes.  Activity, busyness, scheduled chaos...all have taken priority over true communication, interaction,  and conversation.  

What’s in our calendar has taken a front seat to who's in front of us.  We have all willingly accepted being bumped for whatever is next.  We have done it willingly, if I accept you bumping off our lunch date for the meeting you have at 2:00, you will overlook the fact that I’ve been late for dinner two weeks straight or haven't returned the call...

It’s an epidemic of extinction level proportion, but we are all actively participating and eagerly accepting it with false grace and implied understanding every day.  It builds up in us and it erodes our humanness one interaction at a time.

We may not consciously know we want it to end, but our souls are screaming for it to stop.  Our very human essence is on the checkout conveyor kicking the phone out of our hands and looking us in the screen-glazed eyes and telling us we need to connect with that God-created being across the counter from us.  Will we listen this time or will we accept that we have things to do, places to be and schedules to keep...and move on to the next check box?

Maybe we can break through the ice one crack at a time.  Maybe if we change our habit to really try to connect, just one opportunity at a time.  One swing of the pick at a time.  Maybe if we can just try to interact, to communicate, to actually connect even if just for a few short minutes.  Perhaps we will come to understand that the encounters aren’t actually throwaway after all and that the humans around us are worthy of our respect, not just obligatory eye contact.  Maybe we can say something that lets our coworkers know we really do care about what happens outside of their 8-5 weekday life...

Perhaps our next expression of Merry Christmas could be just that - a true and sincere hope that the person across from us finds peace and happiness in their celebration of the birth and amazing gift of God’s only Son.  Maybe we still have time to be a bright spot on a dark night or a warm glow in a cold season.  

I pray that my interactions with you will add a log to your fire and a light to your tree.  I hope that I can slow myself down, take a breath and honor the creation across from me with the time and attention they deserve, even in a chance encounter in a hallway or doorway.  

I pray my Merry Christmases are sincere and my hello is merely an opening line...to a meaningful connection with a child of God and a unique and wonderful creation!  I am hopeful that there are others who are lonely in crowded spaces, who long for meaningful connection, and who will be brave enough to ask how I'm doing and care to hear the real answer.  I pray that I can connect with you and find out what your hopes for the future are, and just maybe I can help along your journey to get there, or at least listen intently to the rest of your story...

Reflections on a half-life...

A half-life is many things.  It’s a video game.  It’s a scientific term (t1/2) for the time an isotope loses half of its original radioactivity.  It’s a mile marker.  It’s a wake up call.  It’s a question.

I’ve been alive and active on planet Earth for 15,877 days.  There are 15,535 days until my 86th birthday.  I will gladly take more than 86 years, but at this point with the average lifespan of the American male at around 78 years, I would take that.  Seems like a good goal at least for now.  So taking 86 as the goal, I suppose I am at my midway marker, my half-life.  I would like to consider my life half full, not half empty by the way,  I think I have myself set up for that to be the case.

Sitting in the radiology wing of the local hospital waiting for the technetium to make its way through your circulatory system is a good place to ponder such things.  It isn’t an unpleasant thing in and of itself, waiting.  The IV part was less so, but the young woman who started it was good at her craft and we chatted about schools and kids as she sheepishly commented that I am younger than most of the men she sees.  I made her less uncomfortable (I hope) by commenting that her gerontophilia secret is safe with me.  There was at least a giggle that let me know that she understood what I meant.

Thinking about why I am here this morning undergoing a stress test is far less interesting to think about than what happens next.  What type of mile marker might this be?  What kind of questions might this experience pose?  What do I do with the insight gained from the results of the test, positive or negative?

I am not really worried about the test per-say, or even about the results.  Maybe a little concerned that I will fall off of the treadmill as it speeds me toward temporary exercise overload at an unnatural incline.  I am really not concerned at the moment about the stressors that likely caused the chest pains, fatigue and other ailments that triggered the appointment that resulted in the test being scheduled in the first place.  My thoughts keep circling back to this idea of today being a midway marker.

I have had a very robust life thus far.  A wonderful childhood with loving and supportive parents, two younger brothers who fulfilled the roles of both playmate and adversary well.  No complaints and no regrets.  I had a great school experience with some memorable teachers and friends.  I had great athletic experiences, with wonderful memories of my Dad as my coach and my Mom and brothers cheering me on.  All in all I was blessed then by a loving community, and am blessed now by the memories.  Childhood portion of life – 14 years – CHECK

My teenage years were spent with some great friends, girlfriends and sports experiences.  Mostly positive, all educational.  I learned that I love music, I need time to myself occasionally to recharge my batteries, I love writing and creating, and that I have a strong desire to make things better.  Great memories came from dances, church camp, first experiences, and some of the best popular culture the world has ever known.  Sports injuries, insecurity, and the feeling of being “out of place” in my community were all valuable challenges.  Teenage portion of life - 5 years – CHECK

College was wildly educational.  My hometown had a population in total of less than 2000 people.  Bowling Green had a student population of well over 20,000.  Big fish from a small pond dropped instantly into the ocean.  Learning to swim in the ocean currents and changing tides were exciting lessons to learn.  SO many new experiences, deeper friendships and lessons learned.  A few regrets and a few mistakes, but all in all I am blessed by the memories.  My education came in the way of great freedoms, great friends and decent professors.  College portion of life – 5 years – CHECK

My wife and I started dating in my senior year of college.  It was a clearly defined turning point from the chaos of college life to actually starting to think like an adult.  It was a rough transition for both of us, and there were certainly some bumps along the way.  For the most part we broke one another down to fit into the marriage mold by the time we stood before family, friends and God in 1999 and committed ourselves to the ever after.  The first couple of years we spent discovering our differences and pushing the envelope.  Learning to love someone, we came to find, was different than being in love with someone.  Newlywed portion of life – 3 years – CHECK

We purchased our first home in 2001 and spent a few wonderful years remodeling and building sweat equity, and our careers.  I regret not traveling while we could, just the two of us.  I don’t regret waiting until we were ready to start a family.  Settling in to adulthood portion of life – 3 years – CHECK

Our first son was born happy and healthy in 2003.  He changed our lives forever and solidified any shaky ground we had in our commitment to making this whole marriage thing work.  It became real, and we realized we were pretty well equipped to do this new parenting thing we obligated ourselves to.  We made such an impressive tiny human the first time that we produced the follow up version 2 years later.  Our second son taught us more valuable lessons, patience and teamwork being among them.  I took on several leadership roles during these first years of parenthood.  Banking, retail, credit unions…leading teams and creating value became a passion, second only to the commitment and love I felt for my awesome little crew of humans.  We became increasingly involved in our church community and in our small group and discovered that life was between when it was shared.
Young parent portion of life – 5 years - CHECK

A move to our second home and the birth of our third son came along in my 35th year.  I was the CEO of a credit union I dearly loved, I was the father of three sons, I was husband to a beautifully strong woman.  Life was good and it flew by as we made new friendships and plugged in fully to our community.  God blessed the years in Orrville with some great opportunities and great relationships.  We learned the value of sidewalks for connecting people and walking out issues.  We learned what you miss when you lose a good church community.  I learned the risks you take when you let work take priority over family and avoided (thankfully) most of the consequences.  When an opportunity to test the ocean waters came again with a larger credit union I cautiously stepped in and we made a move to Ashland.  We traded our century home on a city lot to a country home with a park attached.  Sidewalks were traded for wooded trails and tricycles for ATVs.  My wife decided that she can do without Ohio, but that if the boys and I are here that she can tolerate it, probably.  Soccer, football, music lessons and some family vacations moved the years along at an increasingly rapid pace.  Taking time to smell the roses is a rare thing in this season.  But I know that I am blessed by the fullness of life.  Family fun portion of life – 5 years – CHECK

This all brings me to present day.  Now in as CEO role with a wonderfully different kind of company.  Three active and healthy young men, one undeniably in his teen years now.  Navigating the “quieter side of love” season of marriage where weekend getaways are replaced by rushed date nights fit between kids activities and work obligations and where snuggling on the couch with a sitcom replaces whatever used to happen once the kids finally went to bed, whatever that was.  Career is still full of leading teams and building value, but now has a more spiritual aspect of redeeming broken systems for God’s Kingdom.  Feels good and satisfies my soul, but also carries with it an inherent stress to push for more value and better results.  Kids are getting into the ages that a parent suddenly realizes that they only have a few years left to instill the life lessons and wisdom that they will need to survive this ever changing world in which we’re living.  Stress of fitting 3 weeks worth of activity into each and every 168 hour period is maddening.  Anxiety of juggling the puppies and chainsaws of the good stuff and the necessary stuff while singing a happy song is enough some days to make anyone grab their chest and in their best Fred Sanford impression exclaim that this is the “big one.”

Which brings me to today…I am about three years, 1100 days or so, into this period of life, whatever you want to call it.  Middle age, circus time, wonder years…

I am forced to take a time out today, to wait.  To wonder what dreams may come and what adventures await the second half.  Good books and good movies always thrill you in the second half.  Good stories have endings that make you wish they were a little longer.  Good wines have a memorable finish.  I have no reason to believe as I wait here this morning that the second half of my story should be any less wonderful than the first.  I know there will be painful moments.  I know there will be disappointments.  And I know that through it all God will continue to refine me and teach me.  I know that love will surround me because I will continue to pour it out.  I will work a little harder on making sure that the stresses of this full life don’t take away from the enjoyment of it.  I will work harder to make sure that I do a better job of balancing work and play, and find joy in both.  I will get my steps in and my cardio goals accomplished along with my weight down and such.  I do anticipate that there may be, in my later years a nice young radiologist with a thing for old men, but I will resist the temptation to flirt with her. I pray that my wife will be by my side to be embarrassed if I do.  I’m guessing that I will be just as in love with her as I am now (my wife, not the radiologist).

I will work to keep the story moving toward a fantastic finish, one that will make those around me wish that my life, no matter how many days, was just a little longer.

Now, it’s almost time to go see if I can stay on the treadmill and if I gain any superpowers from the radiation.  A guy can dream…