The older I get the more I think about death, legacy and my time left here.
I want to have a simple casual funeral, I want to have impacted many people in a positive way. I want to be included in the stories of many people’s “success” stories.
I want my family to be proud of me. I want my Grandchildren to appreciate me like I do the people before me.
My Great Uncle, Ridgeway Coe, died this morning. He was 91 years old, my Mumsie loved her old brother so much.
He was Fire Chief of Tallahassee Florida for several years. He was a Leon High School Football Hall of Fame member as well.
Mumsie told us a story of how he thought he was having a heart attack so he started to jog around the house to see. Later in life he fell a few times but Mumsie would say “because of football he’s hop up really fast”.
I don’t have a lot of memories of him but I do remember going to his house in Tallahassee and he had a lot of dead animals on the walls. They had a bear skin rug too.
Below are pictures of him, some as a boy on Thomas Pinken Coe’s knee. JB Harvey was “JB” to me, but Ridgeway’s real father was Thomas Pinken Coe who died when Ridgeway was a boy.
I hope heaven is real, the thought of Uncle Ridgeway seeing Mumsie & Aunt Faye again brings a tear to my eye.
I have a chip on my shoulder but wish I didn’t.
I believe people doubt me. They always have, but maybe that’s my perception. I want to prove them wrong and rub my successes in their faces. I want them to regret doubting me.
I hate this.
I hate that a portion of my desire for success is to seek a revenge (in my mind) on these doubters. “Ah ha, I did it, fuck you!” I want to tell them.
I’m working on letting this go. This is one of the things I hate the most about myself.
I’m not happy with the way I am, I hate how quickly my temper slips, how impatient I am with the people I love the most.
I’m unable to separate myself from situations where quick wisdom should take control. I cannot take a breath, I react to quickly.
I’m arrogant and I need people to think highly of me. I hate that voice. It’s filled with self-importance.
I look back at my youth and try to remember what I envisioned my life to be when I would become an adult.
I didn’t think about having kids, it just never really crossed my mind. I didn’t really picture a house. I thought I’d be married, but didn’t have anyone in mind. I thought I’d go to college, come back and run the car washes with my Dad. I thought we’d go to car wash trade-shows together.
I didn’t know I’d be given opportunities that have been laid before me. I thought my life would be fairly boring and I was okay with that.
Two nice moments this week.
- Seeing Sarah’s little curls dance in the wind as she rides her big wheel and listening to her quietly singing a song.
- Listening to Jimmy reading, trying to sneak past words he doesn’t know.
I want things for people, I want them to do things to “help” themselves. But that’s my plan for them, its not their plan. I get down when people don’t follow my plan, even when I haven’t told them about my plan and even when it might not be what they want.
Sometimes Allan’s plan for others isn’t what others wants for themselves. It’s my agenda, not theirs and I need to realize this more often.
I fear these things…
Dying thinking I could have been better (listed in order of most fear)
- Could have been a better Dad.
- Could have been a better husband.
- Could have made my parents prouder.
- Could have been wiser/smart in my business decisions.
- Could have been a better friend to someone.
- Could have helped someone that reached out to me but I didn’t realize they were reaching out.
Having someone think I’m lazy
Having someone think I’m a bad Dad.
Looking back on my life and just regretting something, I didn’t work hard enough, love enough, spend enough time with my kids, I didn’t connect with them, I pushed them away, they think I had a higher priority than them and think that disconnects me from Anna or my kids at any point when I’m alive or tarnishes their opinion of me.
I fear not doing enough, but I always feel like I’m not at the same time. I don’t remember a time where I felt satisfied with my day, like I hit on all cylinders.
I do not fear these…
People thinking I’m rude
People being offended by my opinions.
People thinking I’m silly, crazy, insane.
If you ever wanted to see someone be tortured come over to my parent’s house. Watch my Dad, watch him study my brother, watch the grief, frustration and sadness of my Mother. My brother isn’t the victim, he’s unaware to their trials.
Seven years ago, I saw the months leading up to Kirk’s death from cancer. Fortunately his parents didn’t think they could cure him, they didn’t feel responsible for his health, only there to comfort him.
My parents’ current situation is much more torturous than just watching your son disappear from cancer.
Jimmy turned 6 years old today.
I’ve never doubted myself more than I have the past 6 years. I used to be very confident I was making the right decisions. Making decisions now carries a more impactful repercussion, effecting more people than just me.
I wonder what Jimmy will remember about the first six years of his life. Will he remember the fun we’ve had? Will he remember the times I’m “too tired”, stressed out or don’t give him my full attention?
I hope he’s a happy kid.
I hope he grows up hungry to seek adventure. Willing to learn & grow. Quick to forgive, give love and compassion. Always ready to protect his sister and love his Mom forever.
I think he’s on his way.
I need people to need me.
Parenting is giving your child the determination/desire/obligation to be a “better” person, spouse, parent, worker, employee, boss, citizen, neighbor, friend, student, advocate than you.