Now, I need a place to hide away....

Today, my youngest daughter made this post on facebook...

the holidays always make me think about my poppa and the gatherings we used to have with Francine Coker Kim Tomplait Coker Trent Coker and Tonya Coker Hebert. I'd kill for just one more december like that.
"I'm gonna walk with my grandaddy,
and he'll match me step for step,
and I'll tell him how I missed him,
every minute since he left....
Then I'll hug his neck."
Thurman Coker♥ one of the best men i've ever known.

 

My dad was a good man and most of our favorite holidays were the ones spent in his company...We would spend every Thanksgiving in Pine Grove on Coker Hill in the company of my brothers and me and our individual families, Fran and Thomas, and anybody who wanted to come to our "shin-digs". The day was filled with food, family, friends wandering in and out, football, skeet shooting, and lots and lots of BSing. It was great. It was fantastic. It was probably the best times of our lives. Christmas was spent in the same fashion, maybe a tad bit more hectic cause we always made the trek to Will's parents house as well.

 

Then came a life altering event for all of us...Daddy died. There were circumstances prior to his death that are too complicated to delve into now, but at the time caused extreme friction within the family. Things occurred that basically divided the family into two, and unto this day, each side truly believes that they were the one in the right. 

 

Stubborn...yeah, I think so....

 

Fast-forward almost a year later...Another life-altering shattering event...Will died.  This was devestating, not only to me and the girls, but to my whole family. Everybody loved Will. Sounds cheesy, but it's true. Will was a great person. End of story. One day, I am going to write a blog detailing his life. It's gonna take a while, and it is going to be really hard for me (emotionally) to write. I have mentally been writing it in my mind, and mentally been preparing myself for it...it is a story that needs to be told.

 

I digress.

 

With this second death in our family, we splintered. There were still bitter feelings from the upheaval we went through with Daddy's death and then something happened between myself and youngest brother, Craig, after we buried Will, that forever changed our family make-up.

 

Without going into sordid detail, and exposing nerves that are best left buried...let me just say that I can look back and realize that I reacted to a situation badly...instead of going to my brother and talking to him about it, I got angry. Boiling mad. Probably madder than I have ever been in my entire life. I realize NOW that I was going through the second stage of grief...anger...and Craig happened to be the person I could direct it at...after all, Will was gone...how can you be angry at a dead man? 

 

Now, I am not saying that I didn't have the right to be angry. I did. And I still bristle when I think about what happened, but I can also look at my reaction and know that I did so with extreme vengeance and in a way that was completely and utterly out of character for me.

 

Being able to recognize this, I am at a crossroads. Can I let go of this anger and hurt and disappointment to try and rebuild a bridge....or forever wash my hands of it and never look back even though I know how much my children yearn for yesterday?

 

 

Tin Roof. Is Rusted.

Wow...this is exactly what I was afraid would happen, should I attempt to become a "blogger"...the first few blogs would roll off my fingertips and then my famous (lack of) dedication would take over...So, here I am, almost a month after my last entry....playing catch-up.

Topics for Speak Now continually run through my mind...there are many aspects of my life that I would like to lay in print, not so much for the curiousity of others, but more for my own perspective. I have many stories to be told, some sad, some funny, some just plain ole bs of everyday life.

I have the next three or four weeks off from work...Vegas is fast approaching--the Pack plus 12 more.  I can't wait to write of our adventures. Charlye is home for now and Tay and Rylee are coming to spend a few days next week. All is right with the world. :)  

Hey, baby, let's go to Vegas.

Maxine said...

Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other - body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO, What a Ride".

 

Substitute the Chardonnay with some Jack and Coke, and this is my motto for life.

 

Me and 6 of my friends are headed to Vegas in 46 days. 15 hours. 25ish minutes. But who is counting? To say we are excited is quite possible the biggest understatement of our lives. Of the 7 of us going, only one has never been. Hanse will be the 9th virgin for me to introduce to Vegas. True story. I am getting good at this...who would have thought it? I take pride in saying that I have opened the eyes of my friends to the fact that there is a big ole world out there...Some would say, "Vegas. Really?" but hey...this is our life and it's funny how some people stumble through it and never find a group of friends who are so totally in tune with each other as we are...We are blessed.

 

So, in 49 days. 9 hours. and some odd minutes...7 very tired and hungover people will be back to their ordinary, blah lives. And they will try and explain to people, who never...in a million freaking years...would venture out of their comfort zone, just how fantastic of a time they had...and there may be one person out of all those who listens to the tales who decides that the next time the pack heads to vegas, they are going...  And I get another notch on my belt.  :)

 

**Last blog was Wade Bowen...try not to listen**

Sometimes I get captured by the way a song sounds...

I love music. In fact, my blogs are all gonna be titled with a line from a song that will be appropriate to whatever I am spewing. Debating on whether or not to leave people guessing or include the name of the song in the post. My current obsession is Taylor Swift, hence the name of my blog, Speak Now. I have flooded my facebook in the past two weeks with references to her newest CD. So much, that I am sure if i post one more reference to her lyrics I will be deleted from some. Truth is...she is an awesome songwriter and she is 20 years old. I think that I have the ability to write lyrics and maybe one day I will.

The love of music is something that I have passed on to my daughters, and my oldest has already passed it on to hers. Funny how things like that work...

Btw...my first blog....you know the one...it was kind of harsh....The title "People are People" was a reference to a Depeche Mode song. Remember it???

People are People,
So why should it be,
You and I should get along
So awfully.

People are People

I decided to start my own blog with encouragement from my daughter's lifelong best friend, Josh and my sister from another mister, Tammie. I have always read OF other blog's--and never actually followed one. I began reading Josh's, enjoyed it, LEARNED from it, and thought I should do that....so, here I am. I have been searching my mind for the subject of this first entry...funny how things tend to fall in your lap.

My maternal grand-mother died this morning. So what. WOW. That sounded harsh.

I have always tried NOT to judge people. My own life experiences have led me to understand MOST people have a reason for being the way they are...Circumstances can shape a person as much, or more than, genetics. Knowing this, you would think I would have more compassion towards the woman who gave birth to my mother. I don't. She was a bitter and hate-filled person until the day she died and I can't understand how  you go through 80 years of life living with this cancer inside of you.  My mother and her siblings were victims of this "cancer" ALL their lives. And yet, at the end, they were all there. All with demons of their own. And they received from their mother exactly what they should have expected. Nothing.