Obituary of Joseph George Brian Simanski

The number on the mail box declared that this was the place. The chickens, Long Island leg horns and Rhode Island reds told me all was right with the world, I had grown up with a chicken coop in the back yard. The house was a small three bedroom rancher built in the 1950's. We parked the car and I walked up the steps, my then husband following behind. Inside I saw a woman at the dressing table wrestling a baby into his suit for the day. "Come in and meet your son," she said with a smile. This was just one of many sons and daughters she had joined to their adoptive parents over the years. Mrs. Montgomery had introduced me to Brian Cepon, a.k.a. Joseph George Brian Simanski, and the next 35 years would be ones of discovery and action! Joe loved being alive. He loved beets and pears and when the time came he loved exploring. It started with the pots and pans. At eleven months he showed talent in deconstructing electric coffee pots found in the lower cabinet. He scooted along the floor following the Cocker Spaniel. He woke us up every morning by playing his bird music toy that hung on the side of the crib. Joe developed like any other child. Growing everyday and exploring the world. In time a brother was born to us and he took over the care of John. At one week old, Joe decided that brother John should be playing with something so he threw a ball into the bassinet and thus a mutual love of baseball was also born. Joe took care of his little brother, seventeen months younger, and the day John started to crawl, Joe sat on him because the "baby is moving and not laying still." Pre-school started and he showed promise in gymnastics. They wanted to start training him for a state wide gymnastics team at the age of four. Yeah, it made sense; after all I was the one watching his gyrations all day long. Trips to the park and the zoo happened and the beach. Did I mention the beach and the waves and the little fish in the bathing suit I had to drag away from the water? Grandparents were involved and a few other relatives. Grade school started and the days passed - sunrise sunset. We moved to Fairfax in the summer of 1986, it was a different place then. He fit in and took under his wing a neighbor's daughter, whose father was having a liver transplant. He wanted to make sure she was ok. Yeah, does this sound familiar? Sports did happen, they were his life! And the Optimist's Baseball opened outfield to him. He treasured that time and so did I. John was not left and the two boys chased bats and balls for years. School continued at Herndon High and the girls came around. Joe was thinking of the future and he found the fit at Longwood College where he majored in education. In the meantime, he became a life guard and had lots of dates with baseball and girls. Summers were spent at Merritt Academy with the kids at the pool and trips. He loved the kids and just wanted to make sure everyone was ok. Immediately upon graduating, in December 2003, he was hired at Fairfax County Public Schools and began teaching. He loved his job and he always made sure everything was ok. He taught at Cub Run, Colin Powell and Liberty Middle School. He left the profession and became a dispatcher at JK moving. Shortly after, he sought new fields and prospects in Houston Texas to be close to his birth mother. During this time, his father was not doing too well and Joe, wanting to make sure his father was ok, moved back to Sterling. After a while, Joe moved in with me and took care of me through cancer. He wanted to make sue I was ok. Joe has so many friends. He loved everyone. He was smart, funny, a fine athlete, and yes he just wanted to make sure everyone was ok. I was with him Thursday night. We were discussing what to watch when he died. He just died. And nothing I did made him ok. Joe is now looking down on us from heaven and we can all take solace in the fact that he is making sure we will all be ok. Joe died on January 31, 2013 at the age of 35. He is survived by his adopted parents, Claire and Robert Simanski, his biological parents Tom Keefe and Carol Panyard. His brother John Simanski, sister-in-law Sara Simanski, brother Colin and sister Cara Panyard, of Houston Texas. Brothers Michael, John, Joseph and Billy Keefe, of Gurnee Illinois, grandmother Joann Cepon of Gurnee Illinos, Mark Panyard, Elizabeth Keefe, aunt Jeanine Cepon, uncle Andrew Cepon, aunt Kim Evans, uncle Tim Keefe, aunt Mary Jo Cermak, uncle Michael Keefe, aunt Laura Clark, numerous nieces and nephews, other relatives and close friends. Joe was preceded in death by his grandparents Joseph and Adaline Simanski, George and Gertrude Dvorak, Jack and Barbara Keefe and Carl Cepon. Below is a an excerpt from a story Joe was writing before he passed away. Startled and awake after an almost sleepless night. Coming out of a cold anticipating sweat, 4 year old Brian Totts wakes to a feeling of excitement that he has never felt before. He's getting ready to receive his first taste of freedom. A bike!! Running downstairs without even thinking about putting on a shirt, socks, shoes or anything but what he I has slept in he slides down the two story staircase like he's superman, only slippery. Reaching the bottom and bouncing in the living room he sees his prize. A blue bike that is the sweetest thing he's ever seen before. Awesome! Blue as the sky but darker to add his own little flavor. Brick tires and silver spokes. The brick tires seem to be the one thing that catches his eye. Still sweet and awesome. After admiring the bike for almost 30 minutes Brian realizes there is one problem....lt's 5:30 in the morning. Nothing he can do now except gaze at the Beautiful Blue, a nickname that lasts for about 14 hours, since he can't go and ride until his mom wakes up to take him. Throw on the fact that he's never ridden a bike, Brian is stuck in the mud. At least for now.... Hours pass. Brian is so excited he decides to go outside on his own, with the bike. Only problem is the bike and doors in the house don't work for his short and tiny body. He can't get out and the bike is way too heavy for him to lift. But determination takes hold and he actually figures out how to open the bottom door. Yet the weight of the bike and working the doors, screen and heavy wood door, are too much for him. Wait...just wait. Sometimes waiting is the hardest part. Actually all the time waiting is the hardest part for a 4 year old. Well actually 4 and a half. Don't ever forget because Brian earned his 1/2 and will let you know when ever you ask. 6:00am comes and goes. 7:00am comes and goes.8:00am comes and after staring at the Beautiful Blue a noise comes. Mom's awake!! I hear her. Running as fast as he can, Brian slams into the second floor of the stairs and bangs his knee. Could ruin his chances of an amazing bike ride. But no one can stop this determination. He HAS to ride. No experience in the world would live up to this one in his extremely mature 4 (and a half} year old mind. HA! Luckily he succeeds in his mission to climb the stairs "Let's go. Let's go!!" Brian says in the most immediate yell of joy. 10 minutes later they are out of the door. Three blocks away is the biggest hill in the neighborhood. Trampoozing up the hill is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to Brian. Although he has been up this hill on foot many time, Beautiful Blue has never been at his side and it looks awesome shining in the sunlight. They reach the top of the hill and now it's go time! His mom is confused as to what to do, and even more so is Brian. Only having looked at the other kids in the neighborhood ride their bikes,it seems so easy to him, but in reality it isn't. "No Fear", a comment that Brian heard somewhere along his extremely long life, seems to ring true and is the only thing he can think of. Strapping on a helmet? No that is for wimps say's Brian to himself. In this time no one wore helmets for anything, let alone riding a bike. Wimps and that is not what he is. Strong, rough and ready to roll. At least that's what he tells himself again while inside he is very scared. Don't mess with that at all and move through is his motto. His mother grabs the bike, turns it around as they reach the top of the hill and says "here we go!". Not knowing that she is more scared than he is, Brian hops on the bike. Not even tall enough to reach the ground with his feet, Brian is now on top of the best thing he has ever seen,looked at, or wanted. With his loving mother holding him up right on two wheels she says again, "here we go!". And off Brian goes. Blazing down a hill that seems like the size of Mt. Everest. Amazing, wonderful,cool,and fast. Too fast is what Brian feels. Parked cars wiz by, like they are not even bigger than a bug. Trees, bushes, people, are all not even in his vision. He's blinded by the magnificient feeling of flying, or as close to flying as he's ever been. This is close enough for him. Excited and feeling great. This is the best feeling ever and never needs to end. Before even getting close to the bottom of the hill, Brian is already thinking of where there are bigger hills to conquer. Unable to see because of the extreme wind tears streaming out of his eyes, Brian doesn't even realize that the real tears are not too far from the future. The pain tears. The ones that you wish would never come. The ones that you hold back as long as you can and tell, even the witnesses to the actual incident, never happened. It sucks to cry. Especially when you think you're a tough guy..at 4…and a half mind you. Looking back at his mother for approval, unable to see because of the pollen, tears, and numerous distractions, looking back seems to be the mistake. A big mistake. WHAM!! Brian forgot that there was a guard rail at the end of the hill and drifted to the right while trying to look Back. Who could blame him for not knowing that if you look one way, that the way you will drift. A little to the left, and he would have been alright, and missed it. But looking back Brian smoothly schooched a little to the right and smashed straight into the guard rail. Flying through the air, not knowing what was going on and watching the world flip 2 times over and over, Brian slammed head first on the grass thankfully looking up at a beautiful cloudless sky. Always on his head, At this moment, at an extremely long 4 and a half years old, Brian had hit his head at least 12 times, 5 of which required stitches. Like the bobble head he was, Brian always seemed to break his falls with his nugget. The pain set in a few minutes later.Tears being held back to the point of boiling over, Brian sat up an was about to whale but then when the dizziness of his smack to the head wore off he heard a familiar voice. "Dude! Are you alright?" It was Scott a kid from the class room next to his at schooL Scott magically appeared as if transported from another land. Trying to hold back the tears Brian said "Yeah I'm cool, how's my bike?" Still stuck on the other side of the guard rail, about 10 feet back, Brian's new gift was..... ...back to almost the seat. This bike was not coming back. With his mother at the top of the hill, worried to death and moving as fast as she could to get to Brian,he realized that the one glorious ride he had just taken might be his last. "Alright man get up lets go see what we can do. You're bleeding a little but I think you're good, Don't sweat it" Scotty said. Meeting up with his mother and bike at the same time, Brian, Scotty, and his mom looked the bike overand decided it was as dead as the squirrel on the side of the road. Devastated, crushed, and still spinning from his blow to the head, Brian thought all was lost until he heard these beautiful words. "It's cool my big brother has an extra bike that you can use until you get another one. You really charged that hill and I think you can ride pretty sweet". Having no idea that it was Brian's first time on a bike ever, and never meeting him before,Scotty had just made one of the best friends of his life. And at 4 (and a half!) years old they both knew that they were in for some serious adventures together. After lifting the bike on to her, shoulders Brian and his mother started the short journey home. Wounded head, broken bike, broken ego, and blurry vision Brian said "later man" to Scotty and knew that much more wonderful times were ahead of him. "See you tomorrow dude" were the last words Brian remembered from that day as he went to sleep to heal his busted skull for the next day when he would get his next new bike.