Grieving Through The Holidays

My brother died in an automobile accident 2 days before my 33^rd birthday on October 20, 2014. He was 29. My family is traditional, particularly around the holidays, and I remember literally being fearful as Thanksgiving and Christmas approached. I was scared of how sad we would be during the holidays without him. Of course, we found peace and comfort in knowing that he celebrates those holidays in Heaven now, but with just 3 and a half years between us, I didn’t remember a holiday without him.

Top: Jared and me at Christmas one year

Bottom: Jared on his 27th birthday with Mama's famous red velvet cake

On Thanksgiving as a child, I remember waking up to the scent of my parents’ amazing food cooking. The Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade would be on the TV, and we would eventually make our way outside to play football with my dad and the neighborhood kids. Before my Nanny* and Gaugy** passed, we would eat lunch as an extended family at their house. We lived next door. After their passing, we would eat at home. My mom’s parents lived in Grove Hill, and we would have Thanksgiving dinner with them.

At Christmas, we had Christmas Eve at Nanny & Gaugy’s until Gaugy died. Then we had Christmas Eve at Nanny’s. They pretty much lived next door, and Nanny moved 2 doors down after Gaugy died, so we were right there together. Jared and I had trails to each of the houses from our house. Santa came to see us on Christmas morning. Jared and I would usually camp out in one or the other’s room on Christmas Eve night and watch A Christmas Story a thousand times until it was time to get up. Then, we waited on Daddy to set up the humungous camcorder so he could record us opening our presents. It seemed like it took him forever to do that because we were so excited!

Jared, Mama, and Mozart, our childhood pet

We spent the mornings enjoying our gifts, and had lunch in Fulton. Sometimes it varied, but we usually had dinner at my mom’s parents’ in Grove Hill. After our grandparents passed away and we became adults, we’ve not changed it much. I still eat Thanksgiving lunch with my parents. We do a little something on Christmas Eve, and have a big Christmas breakfast, followed by opening gifts. We go to my in-laws’ for Christmas lunch.

Jared and his step-daughter, Shelby, at Christmas breakfast at our parents'

On December 18, 1999, I was a senior in high school. It was a Saturday, and exactly a week before Christmas. I had been at my friends’ house, and Jared and Daddy were gone when I got home. My mom said they had taken Nanny to the ER. When I got there, she had already died of a massive heart attack. That was the first big loss I had experienced. I was very close to Gaugy, too, but she was about 80 and had cancer. Nanny was in her mid-sixties and full of life. This was an absolute shock. Nanny loved Christmas. She had done a lot of Christmas baking, and had already made her perfect, delicious fudge, divinity, and other goodies for us. She had also wrapped our gifts and put them under her tree. I remember calling her friends from her phone and telling them that she had died. On Christmas Eve that year, we went to her house and ate her goodies and opened our gifts from her. It was very sad. Her sister, our Aunt Barb, made Christmas breakfast for us that year. Those are the things I remember the most. I still have the gift tags where she wrote “To Steph, From Nanny.”

The Charlie Brown tree Jared and I hunted and he cut for my classroom

Fast forward to 2014. In an effort to prepare myself for the upcoming holidays, I reached out to my friend, former baby-sitter, and fellow griever, Jessica. Jessica lost two husbands tragically. Her words helped me the most. I’m paraphrasing, but she said something along the lines of “you saw him every day, so it will not be as bad as you think it will. It will be really hard on the people who only saw him on Thanksgiving and Christmas. You’re grieving every day.” Those words and prayers I’m not even aware that people prayed got me through. She was right. I know he wants us to have happy holidays. We got dozens of texts, calls, and Facebook messages, and still do. It’s amazing to me that people still think of and pray for us even 6 years later.

Jared and his family at our parents' on Christmas morning

Probably the hardest thing for me was not having a gift for him under the tree. In addition to his nice gift(s), I always bought him a goofy pair of boxers. For some reason, not having him here to buy those for really made me sad. Jason had the idea to use the money allotted for Jared’s gifts to buy gifts for others. I also have a special tree for him in my room. I developed a love for angel wings when he died, and people have given me so many. I use them to decorate the tree. They have also given me other things like black lab ornaments like his dog, Jake, and a bike ornament because we always rode bikes as kids. I put the special gifts under this tree. I have done this ever since, and it’s something I really look forward to. I use it as an opportunity to bless others, as well as to keep his memory alive. I do this on his birthday, death anniversary, Christmas, and any time I have an opportunity. I know he would like that.

Two little girls who were very special to Jared receiving gifts in his memory

My friend Stacy lost her mom this year, my friend Allison lost her dad, and my unofficial child, Christin, lost her brother. Their grief is what made me feel led to write this. It’s also for every griever, particularly those who are experiencing what I call their “year of firsts.” My loss is sibling loss. I know losses are different, but looking back, the things that helped me are prayer, asking my friends for prayer, talking to my friends, having a group of grieving friends to support me, and making good come from the loss. Make their favorite meals on their birthday and have a party with their friends. Make their gravesites beautiful. Give gifts and make donations to honor them. Know that they would want you to enjoy the holidays. Start a new tradition in their memory. Pray that God will lead you to these things- people, groups, causes- if you don’t know what to do.

Top: Jared's friends came to church on his birthday the first year after his death; the flowers are in his memory

Middle: We had a small ceremony at the cemetery on the one year anniversary of his death

Bottom: Random photo of his grave. We keep it nice and neat, and he has lots of visitors.

Most importantly, there are no celebrations in Hell. If you do not know where you are going to spend eternity, ask Jesus into your heart and start living for Him. As a Christian family, not only will we see Jared again, but we will see Jesus face to face, AND our relationship with Him has given us the strength and peace to continue living without my precious brother.

No matter who you are or who you lost, your loved one would want you to enjoy this holiday season. I don’t have all the answers, but I have learned and experienced a lot on my grief journey so far. If you don’t have anyone to talk to, I’m here. I also know a really good counselor. When you’re drowning in a grief wave about the holidays, remind yourself that your loved one wants you to be happy, and ask yourself how you can honor them this holiday season. I am praying for you! 

In memory of:

• Jared Daniels
• Mrs. Gayle Sollie
• Mr. Terry Raybon
• Gavin Pugh

In honor of some of the strongest ladies I know:

• Jessica Crocker
• Stacy Sollie
• Allison Harris
• Christin Pugh

*Nanny- my dad's mom

**Nanny's mom

How God Prepared Me For Grief

 

This time six years ago, I had no idea that my family’s normal life was about to change forever. My brother, Jared, and I have the best parents any two kids could ever wish to have. We are loved, have always had more than we needed, were raised in church, and provided with the best education money could buy in our area. We were taught to never go to bed mad, and to always make sure that the last thing we said to each other was “I love you.” I’ve never doubted my parents’ wisdom, but that has proved to have been among the best things they instilled in us.

To make a very long story short, God’s plan for my life has never been more clear. During college, I married a successful, older man, got a teaching job at a prestigious school, and had a great life in Mobile. After three years at that school, Jason accepted a promotion within his company, and moved to Orlando. I did not want to go. I had made so many friends in Mobile at my new church and school. Fortunately, our home sold just before the housing crisis of 2008, and I moved to be with Jason in Orlando at the end of the school year in 2009. In ample time, I requested that my teaching certificate be transferred to Florida. As I began my job search, I discovered that my certificate had not been transferred, and it was too late for me to have that done and teach that Fall. I was devastated. We weren’t going to starve, but I wanted to be in the classroom.

Jason moved to Orlando over a year before I did. During the time he was there, a lot of turnover among the directors of his company occurred and he was no longer happy. We decided to move back to Alabama, but this time, back to my hometown. We told my parents and a few friends who could network and help us find jobs. It turns out that my certificate not being transferred was a blessing. Within weeks, I was hired at a middle school. Jason was not far behind. We remodeled my grandmother’s house, where we still live.

I saw God’s plan at this time. Since Mobile is less than two hours from Fulton, my hometown, we would never have moved there (to Fulton). It took us being 500 miles away to move to Fulton. That answered my question of why God ever allowed us to move to Orlando. Things were great for years, then Jason’s company was selling out. He didn’t lose his job, but managers on his level were encouraged to find jobs just in case. The only comparable job he could find was six hours away in Bossier City, Louisiana. He moved there and bought a house as an investment.

During the time Jason was in Louisiana, I spent even more time with my family, but especially my brother. He would meet my dad and me for breakfast at the local café, spend the weekends at my parents’ house, cut my grass while I was at work, and visit me in the evenings, sometimes spending the night. During these times when it was just the two of us, we reminisced, had hours of heart to heart talks, and solved the world’s problems. He would message me early in the mornings and wish me a good day at school. We would see funny stuff on social media and “screen shot it” to each other. My brother’s choosing to spend time with me made me feel important and special. He was a cool guy, had lots of great friends, but he was choosing to spend time with me. That still makes me smile. I always worried about him, though, and my biggest fear was that he would die in an accident. And he did.

I saw God’s plan in action at this time, too. Although I didn’t want to be apart from Jason, I know that God gave that one-on-one time to Jared and me. If Jason had been in Fulton, Jared and I would not have had that last year together.

On Monday, October 20, 2014, I went to school, to an animal shelter task force meeting, then home to bed. About 10:00, I think, my mom woke me up beating on my door. She was screaming “Jared has been in a wreck and it’s bad!” Her best friend drove us to the hospital. I prayed the whole time. I didn’t know where the wreck was until we approached it. There were more emergency response vehicles than I have ever seen. His truck was upside down. I remember feeling sick. My dad called to see where we were. He sounded okay. When we stepped out of the vehicle, a lot of people I knew were there, including his wife and her parents. My dad looked calm, but he said “he’s gone, y’all.” My mom screamed, and I remember feeling sick and faint. I saw a truck with the tailgate down and tried to walk to it, but it seemed a mile away. An EMT and fireman caught me, and I knew the fireman. I remember asking him if Jared suffered and if anyone else was hurt. He told me that Jared didn’t die instantly, but he didn’t think he felt anything, and that it was a single car accident. He said he thought Jared knew who he was. He also said there were two ladies there singing hymns and praying when the first responders arrived. That was instant comfort. Jared is a Christian, and we know all the hymns. I was also glad he wasn’t alone. I later discovered that one of the ladies is the mother of one of my very special students. I now refer to Mrs. Pam and her friend as my “Angel Ladies.”As soon as I was able to function, I immediately realized that Jared is with Jesus. I told my dad, and he said “I know.” The next thing I realized is that life is too short to worry about the stupid, petty things I worry about. That was a game changer for me. I really don’t know what I would do if Jared were lost. I know that I will see him again.

Quite a few of our friends came to the hospital. I chose not to see him. They said he had a “trach.” I knew that would be traumatic for me. Jason had his phone off, so my friend called the Bossier police to go to his house. He called her, and she told him. He drove all night to come home.

It’s neat how God gives you strength. My mom is awesome, but she is not going to win any housekeeping awards. Gardening, cooking, sewing awards, quite possibly, but not housekeeping. I knew we would have a house full the next day, so I went to her house to tidy up a bit. Then I went home. Jason wasn’t there, of course, but my dachshunds, Jack, Bee, and Pearl were. I hugged and hugged them. I finally went to sleep. My phone rang. It was my hair dresser and friend. That was the beginning of a week of being cared for, nearly round the clock, by friends and family. It did not seem real. It seemed like we were having a gathering and waiting on him to get there. My mom’s best friend told me that I was not a hostess, that I needed to let them take care of us. Jason and I went and got the things out of his truck. I still have them in my car.

I’ve heard the first 6 months are the absolute worst, then then first year. I found that to be true. Christmas was especially hard, and not having a gift for him under the tree. Jason had a good idea. He suggested buying gifts for others in Jared’s memory. I have done that ever since for his birthday, Christmas, and death anniversary. It is very rewarding to me, it keeps his memory alive, and I hope it blesses the recipients. It also gives me something good to look forward to rather than being sad.

Jared had so many wonderful friends. Two of them in particular have stepped up to become treasured friends of mine. He would be so proud of them for that. I think he knew that he would die young. The morning after, a close friend of his called me and said that Jared told him to call me and tell me “this” if anything ever happened to him. It was some stuff that he wanted me to take care of. That was prophetic. It also made me feel important again.

Next week will be the sixth anniversary of his death. I still have grief waves. Sometimes I can talk about him, look at pictures, and listen to songs, and other times something very small can upset me for days. I guard myself, too. I know better than to watch home videos and hear his voice. That would do me in. It makes me feel guilty that I block triggers, but I know he would not want me to be sad. I can’t say enough about the other grievers who have been there for me. I also feel driven to be there for new grievers, particularly what I call “angel sisters.” I can’t bring him back, but I can try to make good come from this tragedy. I can keep his memory alive. I do my best to do both.

If you are a griever, grieve your own way. Aside from addiction and hurting yourself, do what you have to in order to survive. You will never “get over it.” Anyone who says so is foolish and has never experienced grief. There are no rights and wrongs. Don’t expect to be the same (as you were before). Your life has changed and will never be the same. It is now “before and after” your loss. Find comfort in trying to make good come from it. Remember that life is short and precious. Petty stuff doesn’t matter (I have to be reminded of this). Don’t go to bed mad. Make sure your family and friends know you love them. Make sure you know where you and your family and friends are going to spend eternity. I fall short every day. I get mad at people daily and sin, but I still love God and ask Him for forgiveness often.

I know many people have suffered much worse than we have. We know where Jared’s body and soul are. He is not missing or in Hell. He was not murdered, so we don’t have to be angry at a perpetrator. We were all on good terms. I am forever grateful to have no regrets. I am most grateful to have had the best brother and friend that God could have ever given me.

“How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye to hard.” -Winnie the Pooh

Needy or Greedy? Think Before You Give!

I’ve mentioned before that our parents raised us to help people, and not for a pat on the back or to be put on a pedestal. I love how Matthew 6:3 says “but when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.” In addition to having been taught to help people, we were also taught to say “thank you” and be appreciative. I know that not everyone is as fortunate to have parents like Jared and I do, but everyone around here knows how to say “please” and “thank you.” Technology makes it even easier. Whether it’s a kind word or $100, I always want people to know that I appreciate what they’ve done for me. Having said that, maybe you’ll understand why I feel strongly about this topic.

As school time draws near, we will probably see people and groups asking for donations for school supplies. I beg you to be cautious in doing so. I actually encourage you to donate to a trustworthy teacher rather than to a random drive or even hosting a random drive to donate to random people. As much as we would like to think that “needy” people are just oh so thankful for the good-hearted people out there, it has been my experience that they are not. They expect it and do not appreciate it. I’ve mentioned before that I taught school for 12 years, and until November of the 13^th. The first three years were in a prestigious Catholic high school, eight were in a public city school, and a year and a half were in a public county school. For the first 11 years, I would keep extra pencils and paper in my room in case a student needed it. My mom frequents Mobile and Birmingham, so she would buy cute sticky notes, pencils, decorations, etc. for my classroom. I enjoyed using them in class, and the students were always thankful. I run races, so I have a zillion t-shirts. Every now and then, I would bring the extras to school and let the kids have one each, first come, first served. Even though most of the kids weren’t needy, they were always appreciative. Many of them would get a shirt for their mom or a sibling. Teaching kids like that makes you want to do nice things for them. I left that school 99% because of a bad administrator, and 1% because my season as a teacher was coming to an end. Had I known about the culture of the county school down the road, however, I would have stayed. When I did this at the last school, most of the kids asked “why do you think we would want this” and I ended up bringing a lot of it home.

When I say the things I’m about to say, please understand that I am not overgeneralizing. Thank goodness there were some sweet kids and parents! I don’t believe in overgeneralizing, and I don’t want someone to assume things about me just because of my demographics, alma mater, favorite college team, etc. However, most (not all) of the students I taught at the last school had no interest in learning, were totally unappreciative of the things people did for them, and had no accountability for their own actions. Because of the poverty, every student received free food. You would find it in the garbage, on the floor in my classroom, smashed between the pages in textbooks, in the containers where markers were stored, on the floor in the cafeteria during lunch, etc. Also, the government forces the cafeteria workers to put the food on the plate even if the student doesn’t want it. I didn’t see wasted food. I saw tax dollars of hard-working Americans being wasted every day.

Before I knew about the entitlement and waste, I kept wooden pencils and extra paper in case a student forgot his/hers or ran out. On more than one occasion, students would break the wooden pencils I gave them in my face and say they wanted a mechanical pencil. On the first day of school my first year there as I was going over my very frugal list of supplies, one child told me that his mother said his teacher could buy all that if he needed it so bad(ly).

The second year, a group of which my parents is a part hosted a school supply drive. These sweet, hard working people went out and bought school supplies to donate to people they thought needed them and would appreciate them. I was coaching at the time, and we were at summer practice. One of the players was talking about wanting a new Michael Kors purse, a new hair style, and a new set of nails. Another girl on the team said “just go up to that 'group' and get your school stuff for free, then you can get all that stuff you want.” If my parents and their friends had been robbed at gunpoint, I wouldn’t have felt any differently. Those are all nice things, and there’s nothing wrong with wanting them. However, you don’t get to have those things if you can’t afford them. If you want them, you work for them. You don’t steal from truly needy people and from non-profit organizations so you can have the finer things in life.

In an effort to boost morale on the team, I would go to a very nice boutique in town and buy small gifts as door prizes. I would find them left on the table after practice. It was heartbreaking to me. I had gone out of my way, spent my hard-earned money, and they didn’t care enough or have enough respect and appreciation to even take them home. They just left them there for me to find. That team also deliberately ruined a fundraiser, and none of the parents volunteered or participated. My friends & I did it all. It could have been a huge success.

I see posts on Facebook about teachers not having enough money for their classrooms. I can’t speak for elementary teachers, but I always received about $400 annually. That was plenty for classroom supplies. If I ever spent my own money, it was on something extra I wanted to do. At the county school, we had to clean our own classrooms, and most of the students didn’t bring paper towels, tissues, and hand sanitizer as requested. I bought those things. The classroom didn’t come with some of the things I needed for janitorial purposes, and instructional money wasn’t approved to cover them, so I had to purchase them or do without. 

After my experiences as a teacher, there are some schools that will never see one cent of my money because the students are so unappreciative. There are others that I will donate to every time I’m asked. Also, after having seen how some parents and students have a hand out and take advantage of generous people and organizations, I will not host school supply drives or blindly give. I will make sure I know where my hard-earned money is going. I will give to a teacher I trust so he/she can responsibly make sure it is used by those who truly need it. Those who don’t truly need it are stealing from those who donated it and from those who do truly need it. I hope this didn’t leave you with the impression that I am a cold-hearted, stingy person, but I was absolutely disgusted by what I saw. I want to help those who need it. I want to defend them from those who don’t. Prior to my experience at this last school, I didn’t realize how much the system is worked. I hope this will also open eyes to that. Whether it’s school supplies, food drives, or whatever the case may be, make sure you as giving people are not being duped.

Also, the first week of school is exhausting for teachers. There is a local church who provides dinner for teachers’ families the first week of school. That is awesome! If I were a better cook, I would do that! A gift card to Pizza Hut is probably a better idea for me to give, though, lol. If you don’t already, please teach your kids to say please and thank you. Please teach them to write thank you notes. Please teach them thank you note etiquette for graduation, wedding showers, etc. It goes a long way and people remember it!

What's with the Grown Lady and her Baby Yoda?

I have loved stuffed animals as long as I can remember. Some of my favorites were Kerby the bear, Kermit the Frog, and a black Pound Puppy named Midnight. I've had fewer as I've gotten older, but I still think they're cute, and they make me smile. When my students invite me to their baby showers, there's a good chance that my gift is going to include a stuffed animal. I have stuffed animals they've given me for Valentine's Day, too, which are very special to me. 

As a bank teller and a teacher, I enjoyed having fun, seasonal figurines on my desk. Although I have never seen Star Wars, when I first laid eyes on "Baby Yoda," I knew I wanted all the "merch" I could get my hands on. I want to say that he made his online debut around Christmas of 2019 and was supposed to be available for purchase in Spring of 2020. The horrors of 2020 delayed that a bit. Nonetheless, I still enjoyed seeing YouTube clips from his show, "The Mandalorian," and his memes. 

One of my former students owns a collectibles store in Colorado, which is awesome! He posted some Baby Yoda merch on Facebook one day. I commented that I would like to be notified when the plush ones became available. Then, one glorious day in June, plush Baby Yoda Noble, Funko Pop Baby Yoda, and action figure Baby Yoda arrived at my house as a gift from him. I don't think I had been as happy since the day I bought my second Mustang. He is just the cutest thing, with his facial features and expressions and soft body. I love the way he scoots around in his basket in the clips and makes his sweet little sounds. 

He brings so much joy to me, and I want to share that joy with others, so I decided to have lots of fun with him. He goes to work with me, as well as lots of other places. He is the Easter egg in all of my car videos, so be on the lookout for him. I figured that would be fun for the regular viewers, as well as for the customers watching their personalized videos. Most of the people at work have fun with him, too. Grown men have asked to take selfies with him. Others want him to ride with them in Fast Lane Friday. I forgot to hide him yesterday while running an errand, and my dirty coworkers yoda-napped him and sent me a ransom text! He had been safely returned by the time I got back, though. 

People can't help but smile when they see him. I figure it's either because he's so cute or they think I'm slam crazy, but either way, they're smiling! I often get messages inviting him places and asking what he's doing. Others have offered to buy outfits for him. His original clothes are sewn on, so he's going to wear pins and accessories. He's slowly but surely making his rounds. Just like with the rocks I like to paint and hide, I like to do things I enjoy to make people smile. Some people make cookies, some people send cards, and my brother used to do random handyman tasks for people around their homes. Whatever it is that you can do, no matter how big or small, do what you can to brighten someone's day. You never know what kind of day they're having or what kind of situation they're going home to. 

The parts have been ordered for Baby Yoda Noble's custom booster seat for my car so people can see him during our daily commute. BOLO for him. Also, please subscribe to my YouTube page, Stephanie Noble Autos to see the Noble Picks of the Day, as well as all of my auto videos. He is Easter egging in all of them (since I've had him). Have fun and make someone's day, even if you have to be a little weird ;) As my late friend Jim Morrison said, "where's your will be to weird?" 

Mustang with Baby Yoda riding shotgun

Baby Yoda riding with the big boys

Respect Father’s Day

Head’s up! If the Father’s Day card you purchased or planned to purchase says “World’s Best Farter,” now is the time to buy something nicer or change your plans. This is not meant to be disrespectful to mothers, but most people would never think of giving their mom such foolishness for Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day seems to be regarded as a day to honor and respect one’s mother, whereas Father’s Day has become a joke making fun of deadbeat dads. I agree 100% that Mother’s Day is for honoring and respecting mothers, but Father’s Day should be for honoring and respecting fathers. Mothers are showered with flowers and gifts, but the Father’s Day gift aisle in many stores has looked like a Spencer’s for the last decade. However, I was pleasantly surprised to see a tasteful selection of gifts this year.

On Mother’s Day, you see sweet posts about moms on social media. On Father’s Day, you see posts about deadbeat dads, child support, and moms asking for Father’s Day wishes because they fulfill both roles. That may be true (about filling both roles), but you don’t see single dads acting that way. Maybe it’s just one of the many ways men and women are different. I know there are some deadbeat dads out there, but there are some not-so-stellar moms out there, too. Over-generalization is a pet peeve of mine. Don’t group all dads into being “great farters” just because one is.

The reason I feel so strongly about this is because of my dad. He is the best person that many people and I know, not to mention the absolute best dad. The remarkable thing about that is that he is the child of a single mother. His maternal grandfather was a great example to him and spent a lot of time with him, as did an uncle and other relatives, but he did not have a day in, day out father figure.

 

Don’t get me wrong, my mom is great and we love her, but this is about Father’s Day and the lack of respect it gets. My dad is the backbone of our family. He is our source of entertainment. Even if something is not fun, he makes it fun just by spending time with him. Growing up, Jared and I knew when he would be home for lunch because Scotch’s whistle blew at 11:30. We would wait for his truck to come across the bridge, and we would be so excited! In the evenings, we would play whatever sport was in season until dark. I still don’t know how he had the energy to do that after working in a sawmill all day.

On the weekends, we did so many fun things. We spent a lot of time taking care of our property and vehicles. We had fun doing it, though, and learned in the process. We went on many local hunting and fishing trips. We would buy groceries on Friday nights, and I would make sandwiches for us to take to the river the next morning. We had so much fun, even when we got stuck on the landing, lol.

On school nights, we did homework after we practiced our sports, then watched TV and went to bed. On the weekend nights, we watched TV as well. Some vivid memories I have are watching the TGIF series that featured “Family Matters,” “Step By Step,” and the show with “Cousin Larry Appleton.” That always cracked Daddy up. I remember eating cinnamon rolls and watching movies or “Walker Texas Ranger” on Saturday nights. Sundays, of course, were for church.

The only thing I would change about my childhood is being more well-behaved. We weren’t bad kids who went to the principal’s office, but my parents deserve better than to put up with a kid acting like a brat from time to time.

Anyway, back to my dad. I’ve never seen him fly an aircraft, but other than that, he can do most things. He can work on automobiles, small engines, do electrical work, he is a certified plumber, top level Ham radio operator, and he has carpentry skills, just to name a few. He may call the HVAC man or local appliance repair men if necessary, but he is usually able to fix everything himself. That is so impressive to me, especially since he didn’t have a dad to teach him those things. He taught my brother the same skills, with the exception of the Ham radio. I mainly just held the light, and I can write about my experiences watching them, haha. I’ll also add that none of these are his actual jobs. He worked at Scotch Lumber Company for decades, and has been at Scotch Plywood Company in maintenance for right at a decade. I asked one of his long-term coworkers what impressed him the most about my dad from a professional standpoint. He had the following to say: “His ability to understand computers and the marriage with PLCs for equipment performance. He could actually write the programs.”

Another of his long-term coworkers is a good friend of mine. Sometimes, he finishes my sentences and predicts my next moves. I asked him a few times how he knew. He said “I worked with your daddy for 30 something years and you’re just like him!” That’s probably the best compliment I could ever receive! It’s far fetched, though, because I fall short in many ways.

My dad and I are very close and have a great relationship. We talk multiple times a day, particularly about our day when I leave work, and we spend a lot of time together. My husband is convinced that I think my dad invented air, rofl. We love watching old TV shows, cooking/eating, talking, I like asking him for advice, “burning up gas” in his hot rods, shooting guns, and just sitting on the porch.

I thank the Lord every day for my parents and I pray that they will live long, healthy lives. I know that not everyone is as fortunate to have such a wonderful dad, but please don’t disrespect all dads just because of a few bad apples. There are so many special men in my life. To think of them being treated differently because they are men is sad to me.

Social media is not the only place they are disrespected, either. One of the deal-sealers in my decision to stop attending corporate church is because evening church was cancelled on Mother’s Day so people could spend time with their moms, but it was not on Father’s Day. A little shade was thrown my way insinuating that I just wanted to play hookie from church that night. That was not it at all, although it contributed to my playing permanent hookie. My reason behind it was this: The Bible says and preachers preach that the man is the head and spiritual leader of the household, yet we treat him as second class by not giving his family the same opportunity to spend time with him as we did mom on Mother’s Day. I did not agree with that, nor appreciate the way it was addressed. It was disappointing to me because that is where the example should have been set. Oh well, we will have an absolute Father’s Day celebration at my house this weekend!

This week, I encourage you to put some thought into making this Father’s Day special for the dads in your life. This can be any man in your life who is a father, but especially your father. If you know a man who has lost a child, reach out to him. If you know someone facing their first Father’s Day without their dad, reach out to them. Send cards to the dads in nursing homes and to your lonely neighbor down the street. I feel like dads are forgotten heroes. Just let them know that you are thinking about them. It will mean more to them than you will ever know, and you’ll be glad you did.

Signed,

One heck of a Daddy’s Girl

And a

Chip off the Ole Block

"Read to me."

Have you ever stopped to think how all the things you’ve read in your life have affected you? I hadn’t until recently when my husband and I were watching “The Last Dance” documentary about Michael Jordan. I was telling him that I knew way more about sports and athletes as a kid than I do now. As a kid, I loved watching pro football, basketball, and baseball. The WNBA started when I was a kid and young basketball player, so my friends and I were really excited about that. Michael Jordan was at the top of my list of favorites, along with most of the Dream Team, Joe Montana and Jerry Rice, Troy Aikman, John Elway, Dave Justice, Terry Pendleton, the Braves pitchers, and Bo Jackson. I also liked female tennis player Monica Seles, although I never really got into tennis. I no longer like pro sports that much because of the politics, and I really only watch Alabama football. If pro sports were political back then, I was too young to notice.

So, what does that have to do with reading? I started wondering why I had such an interest in sports and athletes back then, but not as much now. I was able to pinpoint it to reading. My mom bought me a subscription to Sports Illustrated for Kids. It was a great magazine for young athletes and readers. I can’t remember all the details, but I was a fan of those athletes not just because of their performances, but also because of the cool things I read that they did off the field/court.

I don't remember it, but my parents say this was my early childhood favorite

As long as I can remember, my brother and I have had books, magazines, and other reading materials. My parents tell me that my favorite book was A Little Golden Book entitled Scuffy the Tugboat. I would take it to my parents and say “read to me.” My mom has always been and continues to be a huge influence on my literacy and on the literacy of my students. She was always subscribing to magazines she thought I would like and buying books for me. I remember the Highlights magazine well. She bought subscriptions to YM and Seventeen when I was a teenager. When she would run errands in Mobile, she would take me, and we would always go to the bookstore. She would always let me pick out at least one book. It seems like I usually left with a book of ghost stories.

Some of my autographed KTW books, treasured gifts from my parents

I think my love of ghost stories came from our long-time school librarian, who frequently read Kathryn Tucker Windham’s (KTW) ghost stories from Alabama and surrounding states. Suspense has been my favorite genre ever since, and I credit that to this sweet librarian. As I got older, my mom started buying signed copies of books by local authors for me for Christmas such as To Kill a Mockingbird and KTW’s books. She and my dad also bought me a beautiful print for my classroom, which featured KTW and some other local talent from the Blackbelt area. I would go on to read her stories to my classes every year on Halloween. It became a tradition that brought excitement to new students each year.

Me on Halloween during my all time favorite lesson

In college, I was blessed to have a professor who taught us how to teach literacy in our content areas. At first, I thought it was an elementary concept. Right from the start, it was evident that she was a caring person. I really enjoyed her class and respected her in all aspects. One of the reading assignments she required was The Read Aloud Handbook. It’s been a long time since I’ve read it, and I don’t want to misquote it, but it tells of the importance of reading aloud, even to the buns in the oven. I applied her teachings in my classroom, and most of the kids and I enjoyed it thoroughly. When we finished a lesson with a few minutes to spare, I would read to them. It may or may not have been related to what we were studying. At a book fair, I bought books called How They Choked and How They Croaked. They were about how famous people in history had made huge mistakes (choked) and how they had died (croaked). The writers were fantastic, as the stories were very entertaining. The kids who may not have cared about King Tut’s life story thought the part about having his brains removed through his nostrils was pretty cool and disgusting!

Read Across America Day as Dewey Readmorebooks and The Lorax

I can’t leave out my Mema when talking about reading. She didn’t just buy us books, but sets of books! One was a set of biographies of random people. I remember reading the ones about Terry Fox and Louis Pasteur the most. I didn’t realize how much she and I had in common until she was gone. She was a teacher, animal lover, and a lot like I am in terms of eating healthy and naturally. We always did cool stuff at her house, which usually stemmed from reading.

Presently, I’m very busy. I’m currently and very slowly reading Unbroken by Laura Hilldebrand. I enjoy reading health and fitness magazines, books about runners, my favorite musicians, and suspense novels. My favorite authors are Dean Koontz and Stephen King, but the best book I’ve ever read is Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers.

I love Jim Morrison and The Doors. When I wanted to know more about him (Jim), I read his biographies and his poetry. When I want to know more about health and fitness, I read. In the classroom, when I needed to know more about what I was teaching, I read. I may not officially be a teacher anymore, but I am still a lifelong learner. I want to learn more about cars and selling. I’m looking into reading material on Dale Carnegie and some of my favorite notables in the car industry such as Carroll Shelby and Jack Rousch.

Books are so versatile. They can be a learning tool, an escape from reality, and a way to know that know that you are not alone in your thoughts and feelings. A great friend and mentor told me about author Wayne Jacobsen. I could truly relate to the characters and teachings in his books and know that I was not alone. His teachings also gave me the knowledge and confidence to make some big decisions.

Whatever your reason for reading, you’re going to come away with a positive. Even if you don’t agree with the author, you now have more of a defense for your beliefs. I’m so thankful to my mom, who has been the greatest supporter of my literacy, as well as the others named who have also shaped it. Books are great gifts, so give them, share them, recommend them. The sky is the limit when you put a book in the hands of a reader.

My mom and me

In honor of Mama, Mrs. Wiggins, Dr. Berry, & Scott.

In memory of Mema.

From One Burned Out Teacher To The Others...

The first job I remember wanting to have is that of a scientist. My grandmother bought me a science experiment kit, and I turned my playhouse into a science lab. I wanted to be an architect after that, until I discovered how horribly terrible I am at math. Around that same time, I saw how much fun my history teacher appeared to have as she taught us. She is the reason I decided to become a history teacher, and was one for nearly 13 years.

I treasure my first ten years as a teacher. My first three years were spent at a prestigious Catholic high school. Everyone was wonderful. The only reason I left is because my husband accepted a promotion out of state, otherwise, I think I would still be teaching there. I consider that school a utopia of schools, since they aren’t required to do all of the bureaucratic foolishness that public schools have to do. Also, educators make the decisions, not politicians. Everyone is held to a higher standard. There is no tenure. You earn your position every year. I think tenure is good, to an extent, in a small, rural area like ours, though, where the “good ole boy” network is rampant. People there think of you as bettering yourself for the good of the unit, rather than taking it as you’re trying to outdo them or make them look bad as many do here (which is something I encounter on a regular basis).

            A sweet student left a note on my board

                               Current Events Poster

I spent my next 8 years at a wonderful public middle school back home. I taught hundreds of precious eighth grade students, and taught with a faculty that was like family. This particular school was on the forefront of technology. Every classroom was fully equipped to be a teacher’s technological dream! I loved thinking of new ways to make the lessons fun, memorable, and relevant to the students. I loved dressing out for lessons, pep rallies and homecoming week. Sure, there were issues as there are everywhere, but it was great for the most part. My last year there, an incompetent “administrator” was hired, who was intimidated by assertive women. Also during this time, my patience was running thin with the bureaucracy of public education, some of the parents, and a few bad kids. Not all of the parents and kids were bad, but it takes about 10 good parents/kids to balance one bad. Looking back, those kids weren’t even close to being bad when compared to others in the county. 

        Modeling ancient Egyptian extra credit items

           The Lorax on Read Across America Day

As a result of my bad experience with that principal, I moved to a different system. The principal there was one of the best I’ve had. She was a true power woman, and I have a lot of respect for her. She did a lot for me and looked out for me. The culture there was much different and not a good fit for me. I say that tactfully. There was not much interest in learning in the classes I taught. I felt defeated. After a year and a few months, I knew it was time for me to make a career change.

        8th Grade Team on Read Across America Day

     Our Christmas Tree one year, always decorated with ornaments from students

I do not make sudden decisions. I thought it through and had the support and encouragement of my husband, family, and therapist. On my last day, which was a random Thursday in November, I accepted an outside sales rep position. The timing let me know that this was part of God’s plan for me. I don’t know how to explain it, but I felt it and knew.

                                  Pep Rally Fun

I enjoyed most things about that job and met lots of awesome people. In doing so, I picked up a year of sales experience. As I’ve mentioned before, I love cars. A new dealership opened in the county and I went to work there. I immediately fell in love with the car business. People ask me if I miss teaching. I miss the way it used to be. I miss the pep rallies, fun lessons, and the sweet kids. I do not miss being interrogated by administrators and parents over kids breaking handbook rules. I do not miss the endless, pointless paperwork. I do not miss being under a microscope in public and on social media. If my co-workers talked to each other the way some students talk to school employees, they would be fired. School employees are walking targets and scapegoats. I do not miss that.

The point of this article is this. If you are a teacher who is burned out and ready to do something else, DO IT! If you are thinking of becoming a teacher, either DON’T DO IT, or minor in business or some other marketable field. As I said, l cherish my first ten years. However, if I had stayed, I would be in prison, the cemetery, or as Karl Childers called it, “the nervous hospital.” I’m the internet sales manager at a car dealership now, and it suits me well. I really enjoy this role. I write the monthly internet sales on my glass door. I’ve been told twice that I should’ve been a teacher because I can write on the door so well, lol. My co-workers probably roll their eyes at my teacher-isms, but it’s who I am. I still have sticky notes, colored pens, and make “hand out” reminders. I haven’t had any complaints from parents, so it’s all good, chuckle.

                                      Cars are fun

Teachers, you are professionals with endless skills. You are college educated. You sell lessons and ideas to people every day, most of whom are not interested. You are organizers. You are IT gurus. You are planners. You are negotiators. You are activities directors. You are so many wonderful things, and you deserve so much better than to be miserable. As I learned immediately after my brother died, life is too short. Do what makes you happy. You are an asset to your community. Do not be afraid to make that change if you know you are ready for something different. I have no regrets. There are companies out there that would love to have you. Best wishes. You can do it. You will succeed. You are a lifelong learner. 

“With Your Chrome Heart Shining In The Sun, Long May You Run” – Neil Young

I don’t consider myself a materialistic person, but I am genuinely sentimental. I was before my brother died, and I am even more glad of that now. When you can’t have that person anymore, having something that was theirs or that reminds you of them provides a comfort and closeness that is indescribable to a person who has been fortunate enough not to have experienced grief and bereavement. Such is the case with a car I once had.

As long as I can remember, I have loved cars. I guess it’s because my dad does and he taught us about them. I’ll never know as much as he has forgotten, though. He can look at the placement of a small feature on a car and tell what year it was made. He knows which years the manufacturers put certain engines and other parts under the hoods and why. I won’t even pretend that I know all of that, but what I do know is that I love a Ford Mustang GT.

Twenty years ago or so, our friend Tyrone drove a black convertible GT. It had been modified and it sounded good. We would be on the porch at my parents’ and know that he was driving by the bank in Fulton, which is out of sight from there. We knew because of the distinctive Mustang sound, & Tyrone’s was especially loud. After seeing and hearing Tyrone’s, I knew that I wanted to have a Mustang GT someday.

                Tyrone and me at my first car show

After I finished college, my dad bought a 2008 GT California Special and had it sent to Biloxi to have a Rousch supercharger installed. He put FloMaster exhaust on it himself. It was a fun, beautiful car. He later traded it on a new Corvette. The Corvette was nice, pretty, and fun to drive, but it lacked that Mustang sound. He traded it as well. Whatever lucky dogs bought these two cars hit the jackpot, as they had low miles and were well cared for.

              2008 Mustang GT California Special

A 2011 Shelby Cobra GT 500 came after the Vette. He said it was like the old school muscle cars from the 60s and 70s. We drove the Corvette to Montgomery on a rainy day to make the trade. I loved all those cars, but I was especially happy for my dad about this one. He told me the story of being a young fellow at a Burger King in Crichton and seeing one in the parking lot. He had dreamed of having one, and his dream came true! The Shelby has been a keeper, and I love it!

                                 The Corvette

In May of 2014, it was time for me to get a new car. I ordered a 50^th Anniversary Edition Mustang GT 5.0 in Race Red. It was loaded with black leather interior, 50^th anniversary badging, and Mustang puddle lights. I expected it to take 6-8 weeks to arrive. Weeks became months, and I was convinced that someone was praying for me to have patience. In October, we lost my brother in a car accident. A month or so after his wreck, my parents and I were having a “bad grief day” on a Saturday. Tyrone and his daughter just happened to drive up in her ’14 and offered to take us for a ride. I’ll never forget their kindness and knowing that they were the answer to a prayer that day. My dad and I cheered up after that.

        My dad and the 2011 Shelby Cobra GT 500

Right after Christmas, we got word that my car had been loaded onto a rail car in Detroit headed for Alabama. As my luck would have it, an ice storm swept through the north, grounding the train for some time. Finally, in late January of 2015, my car arrived in Grove Hill. I don’t know who was more excited- me or Mrs. Debbie the sales consultant I had been bugging since the previous May. It arrived late in the evening, so I was unable to get it that day. My parents and I drove out to see it, though, and it was parked right in front of the dealership. I was ecstatic! It was absolutely beautiful! I’m not the kind of person who has to be the first and/or only one to have something, but this was the new body style of the Mustang, and it was the first in our area. I was still teaching at the time, and I think some of my students were as excited as I was. I told them that “today was the day!” We were all so excited. After school, my dad and I took the Shelby to the dealership and made the purchase. Larry from the dealership was my first passenger when we gassed it up, although I had Jared’s picture above the visor on the passenger’s side. Daddy and I drove in tandem back to Fulton. He took it over town and smoked the tires on the bridge “just to see what it would do.” I can drive a stick (with confidence on level ground and making only right-hand turns), but I wanted an automatic, since this was my primary vehicle. It had 425 horses and sounded pretty good stock. My dad conducted thorough research and found that the best rated exhaust system for it was a Stainless Works cat-back and H pipe. He ordered it and had it installed for me. It sounded so good.

My car arriving, then my dad and me with it when we brought it home

This car was special because I custom built it, waited so long for it, and had always wanted a Mustang GT, but also because it was my happy place after Jared died, especially that first year. I have a “Jared” playlist of songs that make me think of him. I would play it and just ride. Sometimes I would ride by his old house. Sometimes I would just ride with the windows down in the evenings and think of what we would be doing if he were here. When I cranked that car, heard that exhaust, and felt that power under my foot, it trumped my grief.

                  Larry and Debbie from the dealership came to show their support at my first car show

         My dad and me at our first show together

In April of 2018, what was called “a 100 year flood” destroyed our property. It filled my car with water and totaled it. I did everything I could to get it back. I cried as the wrecker took it away, and I have cried many times since. I needed a truck for Voice for the Animals, coaching, and running club purposes, so I got an F-150. It was a nice truck and I liked it. I planned to keep it until 2025 and get a 60^th anniversary Mustang GT. Let’s just say that all it took was one look at a blacked out ’19 with a performance package to assure me that my place is in a Mustang GT.

I don’t know what happened to “my red one,” but I hope that someone was able to repair it and enjoy it. I’m thankful for the memories, photos, and comfort it brought me. I have a memory wall in our garage for it containing the window sticker, keys, manual, photos, tag, and car show memorabilia. If there’s ever been a special car in your life, do yourself a favor and listen to “Long May You Run” by Neil Young (link below). I dedicate that song to my “red Mustang.” 

https://youtu.be/dVM8_jAL86w 

           2015 50th Anniversary Mustang GT 5.0