Before she died, my grandmother constantly commented on my weight. She wasn’t doing it to be cruel, but out of love and concern. Much like other folks around me, she was worried that my weight would eventually kill me.
My grandmother was one of many people concerned about my weight. Her comments and thoughts were echoed by other family and friends throughout the years. And while a few of the comments sent my way have been hurtful, all have been out of concern for my well-being.
I never realized how scared my family was until this week.
While driving home from Charleston from my dad’s funeral my wife and I started talking about making a will. We currently don’t have one, but know we need one. We need to know what the other wants to happen in case the other one dies. We also need to know what music we’d like played at our funeral.
My dad chose Eye of the Tiger. I’d prefer Farewell Ride. But I digress.
Our conversation strayed into our life insurance policies. My wife reminded me of something she had done every year since we got married — increased my coverage through her job. It’s something I already knew, but forgot.
She bluntly, but truthfully admitted:
I’ve increased your life insurance the max allowed through my work every year since we’ve been married except for 2010. You were eating yourself to death, nobody in our families thought you would live past 40.
It was a good idea. And it was the truth.
The truth hurts, folks. I was a selfish, stupid kid who cared about nobody but himself. The five-second thrill I derived from food was more important to me than all the friends and family members that pleaded with me to change.
It took 23 years, but I finally changed. I hope you decide to do the same.
If you need help getting started or are struggling in your current journey, please post a comment and I’ll be glad to answer your questions. I’m sure many of the other wonderful people of 344 would be happy to help, as well.
I haven’t missed a Wednesday weigh-in yet and I don’t plan to start today.
April 28 weight: 202.8 April 21 weight: 200
April 14 weight: 201
April 7 weight: 201.8
March 31 weight: 203
I’ve gained 2.8 pounds in the last week and lost 141.4 pounds in 66 weeks. Want previous stats? Check out my entire 66 week weight loss progress.
Last week I thought I would be under 200 pounds by today. In retrospect, I should have prefaced that with “barring any unforeseen incident…”
I’m extremely grateful for the hundreds of e-mails, comments, and messages through Facebook I have received. I also appreciate Eat, Drink, Anything as they surprised the whole family with a bouquet of flowers at the funeral.
In addition, attached to the flowers we found a printout of all the supportive comments that had been posted on the blog up until Friday evening. I hadn’t looked at the blog since I made the quick post Friday morning so the included printout was our first opportunity to see the comments. My wife and I took the printout to the side and broke down several times trying to read it.
Over the weekend I realized how much this community means to me. And, by reading the comments, it looked like many feel the same way about it as I do.
I love all of you. While the comfort food, lack of healthy options, and lack of interest were simply too much to overcome the last several days to reach 199 today, barring some unforeseen incident I’ll hit my goal next Wednesday.
I’ll do it for you. I’ll do it for my dad. I’ll do it for myself.
My mom called two hours ago to tell me that my dad died this morning.
I’m in a state of shock. I’m in a surreal mood where nothing is sinking in. This is how I felt at first when my close grandmother died, emotionless, only for all of my emotions to hit me like a brick wall once I saw my mom.
I know I can expect the same once I arrive back home in Charleston.
We’ll be leaving for Charleston as soon as my wife gets home with our daughter, hopefully within the next 30 minutes or so. I’m scared, knowing that reality is quickly going to take shape as I pull onto that long dirt road.
In the meantime, please, for God’s sake, call your dad.
