Sunday, August 20, 2017

"Aunt Sherrye"

“The most painful state of being is remembering the future, particularly the one you'll never have.”― Søren Kierkegaard

I tried to think of some inspirational, thought provoking introduction to the comments below…but everything came out soaked in depression and sadness, so I simply choose to leave you with the above quote, and the remarks I made at my Aunt, Sherrye Chambers' funeral.


For those that are receiving these for the first time, it is my hope that the memories and comments are below can remind you of fond times that you also shared with this wonderful person, and that they can also inspire you to live an extraordinary life, just as she did.

 “Aunt Sherrye”

I guess you could say I had a normal childhood… days spent at Northside Baptist Pre-K, afternoons watching Barney the dinosaur and playing with my hot wheels cars.  I rode my tricycle and dug in the dirt. But, when I was 5 the greatest influence in my life walked through the door at 2427 Madison Drive and, much to my mother’s dismay, I haven’t been the same since.

Sherrye Chambers was back in Tifton and I was instantly her protégé…her “little boy” it impart wisdom and knowledge…My family are all rolling their eyes at that last statement.

But Sherrye did teach me so much…

She taught me that there was more on TV than a purple dinosaur. While other kids were learning their ABC’s on Sesame Street, I was catching up on the latest escapades of Blanche, Rose, Dorothy, and Sophia on the Golden Girls…Learning how to give a Julia Sugarbaker-style tirade on Designing Women, and laughing at the antics of Vicki Lawrence and Carol Burnette on re-runs of Mama’s Family…all while piled up in Sherrye’s bed with 2 Pekingese dogs, our very best good friend Sheemo, aka Sheen Mitchell Rodgers, and my grandmother.

She Imparted on me her taste in music…While other 5 year olds were forcing their parents to listen to kiddie sing-alongs and Disney soundtracks I was taught to appreciate Journey, Bob Segar, Michael Bolton, Aaron Neville, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Celine Dion, Cher…but most importantly…the best songs ever written were Sherrye by Frankie Valley and the Four Seasons and Oh Sherry by Steve Perry. I can still hear her telling me “Little boy, this was the best song ever written, and the only way to listen to it is with all the windows rolled down, sunroof back, and volume maxed out” … we would listen to that song endlessly and fly down I75 letting the wind blow through the car…and other times while my grandmother was cooking supper Sherrye would play another one of her favorites – the cover of “Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me” by Gloria Estefan and we would dance through the Den…Me standing on a beige ottoman so I could hold her hands.

Sherrye also taught me to drive. On one of our adventures we were returning home, and as we turned on to Camellia drive she scooped me up and put me in her lap and said “Little boy, lets teach you how to drive!” we made it about a block before I jerked the wheel to the right and we ended up in the ditch. Later, I was 17 and she and I were taking off for a week in North Georgia. Dad told Sherrye and I both that I could drive on 75 to the Tanger Outlet Mall, but we had to get off there and Sherrye had to drive us through Atlanta. Sherrye rolled her eyes but she obliged. As we pulled back on the interstate in McDonnough…sherrye now at the wheel...I remember her pulling the seat up as close to the steering wheel as she could go, turning up the radio and saying “little boy, THIS is how you drive through Atlanta” and proceeded to hit 90 miles an hour in the HOV lane screaming and gesturing at anyone who got in her way” I’m pretty sure that’s not the lesson that dad intended for me to have, but it’s the one I got and my friends will tell you that it’s the one that stuck.

She trained me to be a stealth shopper. She would often quote Sheen and say “little boy, if you think you want something, but aren’t sure put it back…then come shopping again tomorrow…if it’s still there it was meant to be and you need to buy it”. There was never a better shopper than Sherrye…I quickly learned to appreciate a TJ Maxx, Tuesday Morning, and a Belk’s Two-Day sale.

In relation to shopping Sherrye also created her own style. There was the year, when she was teaching at Ben-Hill High she made it a personal goal to never wear the same outfit twice…I remember coming by after class at ABAC and my grandmother declaring “Do you know how many pairs of Capri Pants Sherrye Has!? I counted them today and she has 180 pairs!!” I just laughed because that was Sherrye…determined to do something her way, regardless of what you thought. The last time Sherrye and I went shopping I bought this bold dark plaid shirt, here at the Tifton Belk’s, and Sherrye shared with me that when she taught in Commerce she had gone to Atlanta to Rich’s Department Store to buy a pair of plaid pants, very similar to the shirt I had, and when she made it to school that day the one person in that school that she couldn’t stand had on the same pair of pants, and it made Sherrye furious…that afternoon she threw them in the trash.  During Football season, if you didn’t watch the Bulldogs play on Saturday and went to church on Sunday, all you had to do was look at Sherrye to see if the Bulldogs had won. If they had a victory Sherrye was decked Head to toe in Georgia bulldogs. Mascot jewelry, a red shirt and black plaid pants….and even a UGA purse at one point! Sherrye was the dawgs biggest fan if they won, and their biggest critic if they lost. As a kid I fondly remember her rule when the dogs played. She would turn on the TV and mute the noise and then bring her clock radio in the den and turn on Larry Munson and she and my grandfather would yell cheers and criticisms at the top of her lungs.

Sherrye also passed on her love of plants. While I may not be quite the gardener she was, she was always so proud of her flowers & loved sharing them with others. I remember digging in the dirt with her on time and suddenly 2 eyes appeared. Just knowing it was a snake, Sherrye said “little boy, go get the gun out of my bed side table” She fired a shot into the hole….that poor frog never stood a chance. Many years later she decided to plant a rose garden next to my grandfather’s shop. For a year or two she gathered beautiful roses of various colors from that garden, but, by the third year my grandfather was tired of mowing around it so he just plowed it over with his lawn mower…I am so thankful that Sherrye had beautiful flowers once again at her funeral from all of our wonderful family and friends.

I could go on for hours about all the things Sherrye taught me…because that is what she did. She was a teacher, and a dang good one. Sherrye was name Star Teacher three different times, and was a Tift County Teacher of Excellence the last year that she taught before cancer forced her into retirement. She had the reputation of being the toughest chemistry and physical science teacher around…but this was only because Sherrye knew that by pushing her students she was not just preparing them to succeed in their secondary education, but that once they passed her test, so to speak, they could excel at anything.

When we realized that the end would a matter of days, I started trying to think what I would say that would please Sherrye and mean something to her friends and family…I wanted to impart her wisdom and give you all something to mentally keep with you, and as I drove back to Tifton on Wednesday from a business trip I was racking my brain thinking that I would never be able to capture what Sherrye’s final teaching lesson would be to all of us today…and then, almost as if she was in the passenger seat, I could hear her voice saying “Little boy, I prepared you your whole life for this…you tell them to live like I taught you to live…an extraordinary life.”

You see, Sherrye gave everything, not just 100%, but 1000%. In her career, she taught with the purpose of not just teaching science, but to also make an impact on those kids’ lives. She didn’t just travel to the beach, but she and her good friend Don Pearson would fly to amazing places like London, Switzerland, and even Las Vegas to see Cher perform her final show. Sherrye didn’t just go shopping; she bought everything in the store. She was over the top, threw the best dinner parties, and made sure to make an impression everywhere that she went. She lived an extraordinary life…and that is what she would want to teach each and every one of you here today.

Sherrye was my person…my greatest influence. I was her shadow from the time I was 5 years old, and ive never felt more lost in my life than I do at this moment…But I know that I am the man I am today because of her.  And I will go on to try and live the extraordinary life that she would want because, as Hunter Thompson once wrote, “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”

To Aunt Sherrye: as you and Sheen always said…I love you more than my luggage…and to all of our friends and family who sent calls, texts, and supported Sherrye and us these past few years…we could never fully express our gratitude. Thank you. 

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

It's Okay To Not Be Okay

I'm not sure who the proverbial "Joneses" were, or at what point in history we decided we needed to "keep up with them", but it is my new found opinion that we all would have been better off had we bought the "Joneses" tickets for the 3 hour tour with the Skipper and Gilligan and left them on the deserted island.

 Allow me to elaborate:

The idea of "keeping up with the Joneses" instills in us a need to portray a perfect image; one free of fault or struggle...suppressing sub-par events and personal struggles and not to "air our dirty laundry" for for everyone to see. Don't get me wrong, I'm not advocating that we should open our lives like a reality television show, but we as humans deserve the right to be able to stand up and say "I AM NOT OKAY!", and not feel ashamed. No one is, or will ever be, perfect...we struggle, we lack skills, and we hurt...and no amount of possessions or cute Instagram pictures will cover that up. In fact, I would go as far to say that attempting to keep up that portrayal of perfection causes us even more pain and instability. So, tonight, by way of this blog post, I encourage all of you (if you are so moved) to feel comfortable in saying: "I am not okay."

Maybe you are uncomfortable with your body image, or actually hate your job. Perhaps you have been battling an illness or depression...keeping up a strong facade for your friends and family, but deep down you want to yell about how bad you feel, lay on your sofa, consume and entire cheesecake and sulk....and you should have the right to do so. At some point we need to realize that it would do us all some good to send our regards to the "Joneses", and get the stresses of life off our backs and out in the open. Bottling up your pain and internalizing your struggles will only eat you up inside...and that is what's not okay.

Are you struggling with something? Do you need to unload burdens? Then I urge you to let it out.

In closing, I want to leave you with a prayer by one of my favorite inspirational authors, Max Lucado:
"Father, you are good. I need help; they need help. Thank You. In Jesus Name, AMEN."

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Sleep doesn't come easy on a night like this...

It's 2:30 am. I know this because the dull green light of my alarm clock is aimed directly at my face. I graduate college in a little over a week and I find myself unable to sleep thanks to the uncertainties of tomorrow,  but I won't depress you with those details.  I prayed about it, and something about my conversation with God is telling me to let it go. But, I still can't sleep. My homework is complete,  and my house is secure. The bedroom is a comfortable 73-degrees.  I should have no trouble snoozing off....but I'm still awake.  Now, let me tell you why...
-American Dad has lost my interest
-the crime dramas I normally watch just make me nervous after dark
-I started a new book with the hopes of going to sleep while reading it; I just got bored with it.
-my cd collection is now organized
-who listens to cd's anymore?
-is my milk fresh?
-I've contemplated my next car purchase...I need to know what my salary will be before I can nail that down, and now we're back to the job issue; moving on...
-I'll go to St. Simons; if I leave now I can see the sun rise...oh wait,  I still have school
-if I were married now, I wonder what my wife would say about me still being up?
-I don't want to workout in 3 hours
-But, I should go...I'll see if I'm still up at that point.
-I could go for a late night drive and listen to music...but, gas is too expensive
-I KNOW, I'll clean my kitchen...hahaha, yeah right
-I need new clothes
-maybe I'll get a cat to keep me company
-I'm allergic to cats
-I should write a book
-or just blog for a little bit; maybe that will make me sleepy.
These are all the thoughts that have passed through my head, and the things that I have done to try to go to sleep...With no avail.  Oh well...morning will be here soon. 

Saturday, March 15, 2014

A Cool Morning in North Georgia

The coolness in the air seems to linger a little harsher this morning in North Georgia. These mornings, spent in a place he loved, are the mornings that make me long for my grandfather...at any moment he will walk through the back door...out here to the porch swing and say those ever-familiar words "good morning, son! You sleep good last night?"...The sun is creeping over the far tree line, and my day will begin soon,  but it just doesn't seem to numb this emptiness I feel.
There is a stump to my right that he began cutting on last July...A Briggs and Stratton motor that he had torn apart in his workshop that he never had a chance chance to fix...time may move on for us, but here at this second home, in what my grandmother affectionately refers to as "God's County", time seems to have stopped for him.
As I near my bachelor's graduation in 2 months, the trial of marking this occasion is one that I ponder often. While my grandparents had 3 blood grandchildren (and many honorary grandchildren and great grandchildren, thanks to my sister and I) I was the only blood grandson...Our bond was unimaginable. The diploma would have seemed worthless in my hand compared to the large smile that would have been on his face, if he could have been there...now I will face the day with a void...The void of my grandfather. 
The sun is up now, and I need to run to the grocery store. While the music and laughter of my everyday life tend to hide the "tracks of my tears"...The emptiness remains.  I am coming to terms with the fact that this is life.
" 3 To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
2 A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
3 A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4 A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5 A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6 A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
7 A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8 A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace."
-Ecclesiastes 3: 1-8

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Change

In the past 5 years or so the word "change" has had quite the dose of its own medicine. I myself have been noticing this a lot lately...President Barack Obama used this word as a simple one-word slogan for his campaign in 2008, and slowly began the vicissitude of "change". Those feeling strongly in their political beliefs began despising the word, as if it were offensive, or loving the word without considering its meaning. "Change" no longer just meant the switching of clothing, or painting an object a new color..."change" now represented a movement of national proportions. And, on a personal level "change" began an evolution in its own way.

Growing up I always embraced "change". At a young age "change" was typically positive, Going to a different school meant the possibility of re-uniting with old friends, or mom and dad getting a pool installed was really cool, or finally getting to the age that you could paint your room any color you wanted made you excited and proud...but as I got older and more mature, "change" became more complex...choosing a college wasn't necessarily a fun "change" as it represented a decision that would impact the rest of my life. Getting a job wasn't just something to do after school anymore, but something that would go on a resume for all future employers to see and the skills I would gain from this job suddenly became important...a car went from something sporty and cool, to something that got good gas mileage, and (wait for this one...) could possibly transport MY future family (yeah...let that sink it...I can't)...Grandparents are aging at an alarmingly fast rate, friends are getting engaged, and suddenly hanging out isn't fun anymore, and...and...and....
....and suddenly you find yourself at a pinnacle point in life..."Change" evolved from something new and fun into..."Growing Up" and embracing it suddenly becomes difficult.

The song "Everything Changes" by Lonestar has become hard to play lately. It rings all too true; Tifton has had its fair share of "change" lately, as has my personal life...so I find myself, at 23...preparing to finish my undergraduate...facing different job offers...bracing myself for alarming "changes" with family members and friends...and I am asking myself "Does this get easier?"...Do we ever learn to understand "change" or does it begin to happen at such a fast rate you can't afford to stop and think about it?

I may never know the answers to those questions, but I was reminded of something today... I ran into and old family friend in the grocery store. She knows my grandparents very well, and knows the hardships we are beginning to face with them, and as I told her of how we are preparing for the worst, she looked me dead in the eye and said..."You have to have faith, Randy. Even if it is just an inkling, always remember that all you need is the faith of a mustard seed", and with that I am attempting to turn over more of my challenges to faith, and learn to accept the outcome no matter what it may be. This may not be an easy thing for a control freak like myself, but I am slowly learning that if you try to beat the outcome of every situation you will only drive yourself insane...
...Change is, after all, inevitable.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Welcome to the South

I had the opportunity a few days ago to witness something rare and spectacular...It was a South Georgia Sunset. As I prepared to meet some friends for dinner I found myself with a few minutes to kill, and as I walked outside I noticed the sun beginning to set...so I decided to chase it. To properly "chase" a sunset you only need a few things...A sunroof, your favorite music, and an open country road. With 80's music playing just a little too loud, I departed into the western countryside of Tifton watching the sun digress into the distance, and waited for the perfect moment, and it was on the side of that country road that I found it....

Upon taking this photo I began pondering a question that had been asked of me in a class..."Why Tifton?". So, on my way back into town I thought to myself how this very moment, this time of just myself and the open road, with a beautiful, one-of-a-kind sunset, is the essence of "Why Tifton?" Where else will you find yourself with the opportunity to chase a sunset, or meet some of the friendliest people in the world, or be able to take a moment out of a crazy day to simply step outside and just breathe? While Tifton is often regarded as just a small, weird town...it is really so much more than that...It is a place where people know you by name, and know who "your people" are. It's where local fare beats out the new chain restaurant every time  and your friends are just a phone-call and a block away. It's where you can see your family doctor, and insurance agent every Sunday morning in Sunday-school. It's more than just a small town...It's home...and just not for me...for everyone that take that exit ramp, and finds themselves captivated by the town's charm.

So the next time you find yourself feeling down, I urge you to ride into the country between 7 and 8 pm and catch a sunset, or visit the local restaurant to see friends and familiar faces, or simply step outside to look into the vast blue sky, and take in some of that fresh south Georgia air...because this is what makes the south the best place to live...its what living is all about; taking in the small things. 

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

In The City

As I rested in the lounge chair that paralleled the infamous Peachtree Street I found myself enthralled with the magic of the city. The lights that shown from the theater across the way seemed to mimic the same twinkle in my own eye. Cars rushing by, hot coffee poured by the attentive waiter, the thought of a weekend of endless activity captivated me in the way Christmas does a child. I was indeed smitten with the fast paced life of Atlanta.

A quick three day exploration in the city had me begging for more. Fabulous restaurants, thought-provoking museums. entertaining shows, and enough shopping venues to never see the same thing twice. The thoughts rushed to my brain like blood to a bruise..."How neat would it be to reside in the city! To work and play the city life!" 

As I saw the last of the 20+ storied buildings fade in the sunset-filled distance I found a new emptiness within myself, needing to be filled with this city life again, but at that moment a playlist of soft R&B would have to do. 

But, as tides change, so did my longing. You see, In the same way that big cities entice, small towns comfort. I entered my home church Sunday morning, still needing to feel this air of the city around me, but as soon as I swung the door open, a warm feeling gave me a hug of comfort. "Happy Birthdays!" filled the room with excitement. Hugs and questions abounded me in a way that usually only happens in movies. I was loved. As that day, and the days following, progressed the feeling of encouragement and warmth embraced me in a most caring fashion.  The knowledge that the majority of the  people in this small town recognized my existence, and took the small time out of the day to say "Happy Birthday" is a feeling that no amount of shopping and twinkling lights can fill. Seeing my friends and family want to share in my celebration will never be topped by any off-broadway production. And most of all, feeling the love of family as you blow out your birthday candles while the sweetest 3 year old rests in your lap is a feeling that compares to nothing. 

So even though the idea of living a bustling city life can enthrall a person for a few days...the idea of having friends and family close by, and watching my "Niece" and her new, growing baby sibling (due in 7 months) grow up is a feeling that fills my whole life...and it is something no amount of Brooks Brothers polo shirts can ever become equal too. 

To everyone who helped make my 22nd birthday special, I thank you. I has been a truly memorable week. I love each and every one of you.