layout

Saturday, May 29, 2010

It's My Time

There comes a time in every persons life.....

Ok. Screw that phrase. I have come to a point in my life that I have decided that it's time to do things my way. It's time to put everyone else's needs aside and focus on mine. Because one day, when I'm married and I have children of my own, I won't have that luxury of thinking about myself. I won't be able to just pack up and go when I want. I won't be able to use my entire paycheck for me and only me. I won't be able to make decisions for myself and only myself. There will be other people to think about. And before that day comes, I want to make sure that I have done all the living I need to do. I want to make sure that I have found myself, and learned everything there is to learn about myself. What I like, what I don't like, the kind of person I want to be, the kind of people I want to be around, the kind of people who I want to stay away from.

For the past 5 years, I have done nothing but worry about others people's feelings. I have been so concerned about making everyone else around me happy and comfortable and worrying about hurting their feelings that I have put myself on a back burner. I have taken care of my close relationships and paid more attention to them than to myself. I guess you could say that's because I loved them. That's what love is, after all. Putting another person's needs before your own. So yes, I loved them. I still do. But what about me? What about my dreams? My desires? My hopes? Screw OUR future...what about MY future?

Some may call this way of thinking selfish. But it's not. It's called taking care of myself for once. It's called finding happiness. It's called moving on. I have forgotten who I am. Well, wait. Did I even know who I was? I don't think so. I knew who I was with them. I knew what kind of music, what kind of movies, what I liked to do in my spare time because they liked all those things. But do I really like those things? Do I really like Tony Stewart or the Yankees or being outside or anything having to do with the Mafia? Do I really like the food network or the History channel? Maybe. I don't know. That's what I have to find out. I am on this earth to serve a purpose and the only way I can completely serve that purpose (a purpose I have yet to find out what it is) is by understanding who I am inside and out. And it's up to me and only me to make myself happy. No other person on this earth can make me happy except me.

I'm only 21 once....I'm only 25 once....I'm only 32 once. One time in my life. And I'm making it a goal to be exactly where I'm supposed to be from now on.

Monday, May 10, 2010

My HEART belongs to the MICROPHONE




Since I was a little girl, I have always wanted to sing.  From the moment I could talk, I was humming and I would start from the moment I woke up and sing all day until I went to bed.  There would be many times growing up that my mother had to come in my room in the middle of the night and tell me to stop singing and go to sleep!  Music has always been my outlet; whether I was in a good mood and needed to celebrate, angry and needed to vent, or sad and needed to heal, music has always helped me establish what it is I'm feeling at that moment and time.  And being able to sing has made it that much better.


 I didn't start performing until I was 7. One of my classmates asked me if I would sing with her in our first grade talent show.  We were going to sing "As I Lay Me Down" by Sophie B Hawkins and I was so excited! I had to get a pretty dress of course, but back then money was a little tight.  So we went to a garage sale the elementary school was having at the time and bought a metallic blue dress...it was itchy as all get out! And I didn't like it THAT much...but it was still the fanciest dress I had ever owned! Performance night came and I couldn't wait to get on stage for my debut! Well, my partner ended up hogging the microphone the entire time...which pushed my mothers buttons! But, ever since that night I fell in love with performing! I made it a point to be in EVERY talent show all through elementary school. That was my goal! Second grade came and I didn't get to perform in that one because I couldn't figure out my song in time, but when Third grade rolled around, I was READY! This time, I would do it by myself. Now, that was when the backstreet boys were on the rise, and everyone was in love with them.  I had just gotten my hair cut pretty short...one of those bowl cuts like Nick Carter. So I thought I could perform "As Long As You Love Me" and be pretty darn good at it. After all, I would look just like them, right? So, we went to Limited Too and bought some "leather" pants, a "leather" jacket, and a white tshirt with a big pink and yellow heart in the middle. But it wouldn't be complete without a HAT! 


So, I went on stage and performed! And THAT was when I officially fell in love with performing.  From then on, I sang the "specials" for church A LOT! And I sang in EVERY talent show given.  Even during summer camp at Quality Time I would come up with all kinds of excuses to throw talent shows...and all the kids loved it! We would get together and do Spice Girls performances, the boys would be the Backstreet Boys or NSYNC...we all thought we were the STUFF!  In fifth grade, I had to impress my long-time crush, Blake. I had liked this boy since Kindergarten and I HAD to let him know that yes, I could sing! Maybe he would be nice to me if he knew! So, I practiced and practiced and practiced and finally decided on "Bring It All Back" by S Club 7.  My grandmother made me a bright red blazer with bright red sequins. She sewed on sequins to the collar of a black shirt to wear under it...and boy, did I look CLASSY! I also looked like a ring leader in a circus, but I was cute, haha! I gave it everything I had! And I got a standing ovation that night! It was the most amazing feeling I had ever felt! The next day for our performance for the school, I was SO nervous! But I got up there, and did even better than the night before. Blake even made a point to walk behind me in line to lunch that day and told me that I had a great voice! I was on cloud nine!  I was meant to be on stage!


Then, it was time to go to Middle School.  I did join the band, and I played the flute. I learned how to read music, which was VERY crucial to my interest in music.  Unfortunately, the only performing I got to do in sixth grade was concert chorus and concert band.  But when we DID have a talent show in 7th grade,  I performed acapella for the first time and sang "Reflections" by Christina Aguilera. I also got a standing ovation that year as well. Again, amazing feeling.  I didn't get to perform at school for a while after that, but I did get to perform at a church camp talent show at Camp Caswell the summer before high school.  I sang "Every Season" by Nicole Nordeman.  Guess what? Another standing ovation.  

For the next couple years, I sang a lot of solo performances in church.  After each one, my church family would wanna know when I was singing again.  So I would do it as soon as possible. Sophomore year rolled around and I decided to join chorus.  I had a blast! It was then that I really learned how to SING. I learned a lot of new techniques and I learned how to sing to sheet music.  It was very helpful!  I also got to sing the national anthem for the girls soccer game. I had never done that before, but it was FUN!  I also had a few solos during our concerts as well. Then, that spring, a freshman guy named Chris Fink who was also in my chorus class decided to start "Falcon Idol".  It was to follow the same rules and guidelines as the hit show "American Idol" with slightly different and appropriate changes.  We would do a school wide tryout and they would pick the top 10 performers. We would perform every Friday night for the next month and every night would have a different theme. The audience would have ballots and would vote for their favorite contestant. They encouraged us to bring as many people as we knew to watch us because most likely those people would vote for us. Each night we would eliminate 2 people until the last night when there would be a 3rd runner up, 2nd runner up and winner! Winner would get 200 dollars, 2nd runner up would get 100 dollars and runner up would receive some sort of prize.  Of course, I was game.  



I was excited, but nervous as well. They had called a talent scout to be one of the judges. He had been JoJo's talent scout and had managed her as well.  This was all very exciting news! So I tried out.  I sang "Part Of Your World" and made it. So, my first performance was Strawberry Wine, and I nailed it! Dad would tape every performance so that I could watch it when we got home and hear myself, and also learn from any mistakes I did to correct them the next time. After my second performance, the talent scout decided he wanted to work with the finalists on stage presence. He showed us how to hold the microphone properly while clapping to the beat. He showed us how to charm the crowd and get their attention, how to sing TO them instead of FOR them.  I learned so much during that lesson and I put it all into play on performance night when I performed my mothers favorite song "Drift Away" by Dobie Gray.  I was working that stage! I was sitting on the edge of the stage, singing to the judges, going out into the audience, getting them to clap their hands. I did a GREAT job! That year I won 3rd place.  I was very disappointed but I also knew I had 2 more years ahead of me. 

So, the following year, I rocked it again. I sang songs like "You Light Up My Life", "Me and Emily", "Break Down Here" and "Any Man of Mine".  I ended up winning 2nd place that year and was SUPER proud of myself.  Senior year rolled around and I was excited, but I wasn't as focused. I ended up not placing at all that year, but it was okay.  I had other things to worry about, like graduating! 


I had always dreamed about singing for graduation.  I had practiced and practiced to sing "Whenever You Remember" by Carrie Underwood for our graduation and was so excited to try out! Well, someone sabotaged that for me and purposely told me the wrong time for tryouts. THEY got to perform along with a couple other people and I did not. I was very sore about that for a long time. But, to make up for it, she asked me to sing for our Baccaleaurete ceremony.  I accepted but it took me a very long time to forgive her.  I sang "Anyway" by Martina McBride.  That song really hit home to me especially with the line "You can pour your soul out singing a song you believe in, that tomorrow they'll forget you ever sang. Sing it anyway. Yeah, sing it anyway!" There wasn't a dry eye in that church, and with that, I knew I had done my job.  







After high school, I didn't do much performing.  I kept singing for fun with my family during get togethers when my uncles would bring their guitars and mountain dulcimers and we would sing together.  I sang by requests at my dads wedding, my grandpas funeral and my best friends fathers funeral (unfortunately).  But I stopped going to church for various reasons, and just stopped performing.  Then, I moved to Orlando. I started working at Disneyworld and I got to sing at the American Idol Experience in Hollywood Studios. I was one of the top three finalists! That was super exciting and I plan to do it again soon! And I love going out to Karaoke bars, even though I can't hear myself very well. But I learned from my 21st birthday, I can even sing well when I'm plastered drunk! 


                                       + 

                                                                                          =
                       
                


Over the years, I have realized that singing really is the only thing that would make me happy.  I still have that life long dream of becoming a country singer, although I am grounded and I do have a backup plan of becoming a graphic designer and possibly going into advertising or working for a magazine, but I want to go out for American Idol when they come around again.  I missed the last couple times they came in the area, and this time I am bound and determined to go.  I will get there one day, some way or another and I will not stop until I do!







Sunday, May 9, 2010

A Look Into My Heart




Oh, Missy Higgins. She looked into my soul and she wrote this song. Because this is EXACTLY word for word point on point EXACTLY how I feel. It's like she tore a page out of my diary and wrote a song. 

Where I Stood

I don't know what I've done
Or if I like what I've begun
But something told me to run
And honey you know me it's all or none
There were sounds in my head
Little voices whispering 
That I should go and this should end
Oh and I found myself listening

Cause I don't know who I am without you
All I know is that I should
And I don't know if I could stand another hand upon you
All I know is that I should
Cause she will love you more than I could
She who dares to stand where I stood

See I thought love was black and white
That it was wrong or it was right
But you ain't leavin without a fight
And I think I am just as torn inside

And I won't be far from where you are if ever you should call
You meant more to me than anyone I ever loved at all
But you taught me how to trust myself, and so I say to you
This is what I have to do......


Wow.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Strong FAITH

Why is my faith so strong? 

I was born on Wednesday, February 1st, 1989 at Pardee Hospital in Hendersonville, NC. My grandmother, Cecelia, whom I was named after, helped bring me into this world, literally.  And I believe that is one of the reasons we have such a strong bond. When I popped out, I wasn't crying. My lips were blue. And my mother kept asking "What is wrong with my baby? What is wrong with my baby?" She never got to hold me. The doctors and nurses took me away and I was rushed to Mission in Asheville, NC. That is where they learned that God had not given me a thyroid gland. My mom, naturally, flipped out.  My sweet sweet Nona, took my mom in her arms and said "It's okay, Pam. Whatever it is, we'll fix it. We will fix it."  For those of you who do not know what a thyroid gland is, it is a very small gland, about 1 oz in weight and it is located in the front of your throat, just below your "Adam's apple".  It's shaped kind of like a bat (the animal kind). The function is to take the iodine found in a lot of the foods we eat and convert it into thyroid hormones.  Every cell in the human body depend on these hormones to regulate metabolism. Now, how does this affect me in everyday life?  I am more tired than most, I am not as strong as most, I lose a lot of hair, I have pretty dry skin, I cannot tolerate the cold or extreme hot temperatures, I have frequent muscle aches, spasms and cramps, depression, memory loss, irritability. I gain weight easily and a few other things that are kind of personal.  Those things are treatable with my medicine I take everyday and I have been living with those things all my life.  However, the doctors promised my parents that I would be blind, deaf, mentally handicapped and dwarfed. At the same time.  And that I would probably not see age 2.  But here I am, 21 years later. Normal, beautiful, and well.  It is because of that, that I KNOW there is a God. I know that I have a purpose in life and I know that with faith, anything is possible.


I lived a pretty normal childhood, in Brevard, NC.  My family did not have a lot of money, but we were comfortable. (Well, from what I knew at the time). I never worried about anything.  I am the baby of the family, my two older sisters are 9 and 10 years older than me. I was always in church, whether it was just my dad and I or all of us, I was always in church.  My mom was a Sunday school teacher, and a choir director at one point (not at the same time) and my dad was a Deacon.  I actually accepted Christ the day my father was ordained as a Deacon. I was seven years old.  


When I entered middle school, I had a pretty decent sixth grade year.  However, when 7th and 8th grade rolled around, it wasn't so great. I became one of the "outcasts", and not a lot of people liked me.  Spring break of 8th grade, I lost my virginity.  I was 14 years old. I had only known the guy a week.  And I remember thinking that maybe if I did this, people would like me. Maybe I would seem "cool".  But no, when I got back to school, every body found out. And I was a "slut". I was a "whore". What little chance I had of ANYONE liking me, I lost. To top it off, I remember playing a little game of truth or dare in Theater class, this guy I had had a HUGE crush on kissed me, and I bit his tongue (almost off). But he had ALSO kissed another girl, who happened to be his gf's really good friend.  Long story short, I ended up being called "Fish" because I was a "slut who kept her legs open too much". (If you put two and two together, you can kinda see how morbid that really is).  I was tormented day in and day out by one specific girl.  She made my life miserable.  I was pushed, hit, thrown up against lockers, spit on, you name it. It was done to me.  But I told myself, everything would be okay. God would take care of me and I would get through it.


Finally the year came to a close and summer came around.  But that was the summer my parents separated.  The summer before I entered High School.  I was devastated.  They had never slept in the same room for as long as I could remember and I remember thinking all my friends parents were somewhat "weird" because they slept together. I had no idea that it was actually normal.  They did fight all the time, but I kind of thought that was normal too.  But I guess my mom had just had enough and packed up her things and left. My father and I had been on a church trip for the week and when we came back, we found the house pretty much empty.  That was the 2nd time I had ever seen him cry.  But I told him that everything would be okay. We would figure it out and we would get through it. 


But, it was kind of a new beginning for me. My mom and I moved to the next town over, Etowah. I was going to finally start a new life at a new school, West Henderson High, where no one knew me, no one knew what I had done and no one would judge me. I would have new friends! And I would get to spend High School with my best childhood friend, Julianna. 


I remember one night, this guy who I was crazy about called me at about midnight. I was 15 years old and a Freshman in High School.  Did not have a permit, did not have a license, didn't have a CLUE! He was new, he was from California, and he was HOT. He didn't have a clue either.  He lived by the Asheville Airport, which was about a 30 minute drive from my house.  He wanted see me. Right then.  And he wanted me to WALK.  I refused several times. But still, he begged. So I gave in. I thought, "If I do this, I'll finally get him!" So I started walking. My cell phone died very soon after I started walking, but I kept going.  I ended up in front of Walmart, about a three minute drive from my house, when a cop stopped me.  When I realized WHO that cop was, I was humiliated. He was a fellow Deacon at our church.  He put me in that cop car and drove me straight home.  I will never forget the look on my dads face when he saw Chris and I standing on the front porch at 1 am.  Needless to say, I never snuck out again.  I thanked God that he put Chris there that night. Who knows what could have happened to me had I been able to keep walking.  I could have been run over, kidnapped. Who knows?  Victor did not become my boyfriend and he did not even care about what happened that night.  He still tortured me and made fun of me for the rest of the year.  I guess I learned my lesson that night about boys. 


It wasn't until much later that I realized that having sex would NOT make you a better person. It would NOT define you. It would NOT make you more friends.  The only thing that would make you happy is by being YOU, by doing the things you love, being with the people who make you smile and following God in everything you do.


When I was 17, I was in a new relationship with a different guy, Chase.  We had just started dating and had only been together about 2 weeks.  We had been out all night and I was very low on gas.  I had no money and either Chase needed to give me some gas money to get home or I needed somewhere to stay.  Well, he told me to stay with him, even though his mother forbade it.  (He was 23, still lived at home, long story, blah blah blah).  Well, we snuck in his room, and I guess we were making too much noise because his mother came down and told me to leave. Here it is 2 am, I am not supposed to be on the road past 9 without a parent or licensed driver in the front seat and I have no gas.  How in the world was I supposed to drive 45 minutes to get home with no gas and without getting caught? God was with me. I prayed the entire ride home and when I pulled in the driveway, I didn't even have to shut of my engine. It just stopped.  God pushed my truck home with his two hands.  He made sure there were no red lights, he made sure there were no cops, and he pushed me home.  God was with me not only that night, but many nights following while I was in that relationship.  I still love Chase dearly, but I learned a lot about how un-innocent the real world is while I was with him.  I had many many opportunities to screw up my life BIG time while I was with him, but I didn't.  SOMEONE was watching over me!


In present time, I live on my own now, in Orlando, FL. I have been here for about 2 years and I have grown up A LOT, however I still have A LOT to learn. I have been broke, I have been on my knees, I have been down to my lowest.  But God has always pulled me through.  He has always made sure that I came out of whatever it was I was going through.  He has always made a way for me.  If I needed money for rent, He provided it. If I needed food, He provided it.  If I needed a job, it might have taken Him a while (in my eyes), but He provided it. And he will continue to provide for me in everything I do as long as I trust in Him.  He gave me life, and He has given me peace of mind since that day He proved the doctors wrong.  He has blessed me with love, with talent, with the best family and friends anyone could have, with knowledge, and with PEACE.  I owe everything to him. EVERYTHING!



Monday, March 8, 2010

The MOST Amazing Man In The World

From the first time he saw me, I became his world. I was he pride and joy, his treasure. His responsibility. His daughter! 21 years and he has NEVER let me down....well, I guess telling me "No" has kind of let me down, but he knew better. And for that, I am grateful. I am grateful that I had a father who cared enough to say "No", who loved me enough to want what was best for me. He continues to love me just the same if not more every day of my life. I am grateful for a Christian, God-fearing father who made me go to church every Sunday until I was old enough to make that decision myself. He instilled in me my southern values and morals that have made me the "Southern Belle" I am today. He has given me unconditional love nomatter what I've done: whether dangerous, stupid or both and praised me for my achievements. He has been there for every talent show, every singing competition, every softball game, every basketball game, every theater performance...cheering me on every step of the way and encouraging me to work hard and achieve my dreams. When I decided maybe sports weren't my calling, he supported that decision and encouraged my "theatrical" path.

And even now when I'm on my own and I need my daddy's help, he is there. I couldn't have asked for a better daddy! He will always be the man in my life! The one man I can ALWAYS count on nomatter what! The one man who will ALWAYS be on my side...the ONE man I will ALWAYS know I can come home to...

I love you, Daddy!

Sunday, March 7, 2010

The Day I Lost My Buddy, and Gained My Guardian Angel

On July 8, 2005, my dear sweet grandfather, Clarence E. Goodson, aka "Pops" passed away from Parkinsons disease. He had just turned 70 July 5th. I was 16.

My parents and I had just gotten back from Alaska to visit my sister for her college graduation party.  My grandmother "Nona", with my Pops in the backseat, picked us up from the airport.  I was so excited to see him! Pops was very weak. He could barely hold his head up or open his eyes. So when I was trying to show him my pictures on my camera, it was hard. But he got to see them all. And he would ask me questions like "Where was that" and "Hold that up closer to me so I can see it" and "My, my that looks pretty. I wish I was there". All he wanted to do was hear about our trip.  When we got home, Nona dropped us off and then went to their house because Pops had a lunch date at home with his brother for his birthday.  So I gave him a big hug and a kiss and I said "I'll see you later, Pops. Have a good time with Claude. I love you very much!" He asked me if I was still his little buddy and I laughed and said "Of course I am!". Those were the last words I ever said to him.


An hour later, Pops fell out of his chair while eating his sandwich. Claude tried to get him up, but Pops was a heavy man. So, he called my dad to help.  Pops was always falling so when Daddy said he was going to help get him up, I didn't think anything about it. Well, the minutes turned to hours and Daddy still wasn't back yet. You see, they lived right next to us so I had expected him back pretty soon. But I brushed it off because maybe Daddy had stayed to visit with his uncle who he never saw.  That's what I thought until I looked out the window. And I saw an ambulance and a rescue squad truck and my Nona's van (who went to work only a couple hours before). And I knew something wasn't right. Then I saw my dad and great-grandmother motion for me to come outside. Daddy was crying. I had only seen him cry 2x before, so I KNEW then something was terribly wrong.  All he said was "We can't get Pops to wake up! Are you coming to the hospital or not?" It took a few seconds for me to answer which was frustrating to Daddy. I finally said "No, you go ahead."

Now, why wouldn't I go to the hospital? Why wouldn't I want to say goodbye to my Pops? The one man I loved SO much? My buddy, my "partner in crime"? There were a lot of reasons going through my head at the time. "I don't need to say goodbye because he's not going anywhere. This was just a bad fall and he'll come out of it."..."I hate hospitals"..."I don't wanna see him that way." The last one was the truth. "I don't wanna see him that way. I don't want the last picture in my mind of him to be in the hospital bed. I want to know that he was smiling and loving on me and I want the last words I said to him just a couple hours ago to STAY the last words I ever said to him. Because they were true and they were lasting: "I'll see you later Pops. I love you SO much....Of course I'm still your buddy!"

I called my best friend, Julianna and she came right to me.  She tried everything she could to get my mind off what was happening.  A family friend came home and told me that Pops was gone. And I lost it.  Even though I kind of knew he was, I didn't want to believe it. But then when the truth came out for real, I just lost it. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. I couldn't stop crying. Julianna held me and just told me everything was going to be okay.

When everyone came home from the hospital, I went to my Nona's house. We all started eating to just stop thinking I guess. Nona got on the funeral arrangements immediately. Poor thing. She has to stay busy to stay sane. Everyone was coming over to the house to pay their respects to my grandpa, and believe me, we got A LOT of visitors that day. He was a VERY well-known, VERY loved man in our town. When one of our family friends came over, Daddy answered the door. One look at him and he lost it. I had never seen my dad LOSE it. I had seen him cry, shed a tear, but NEVER lose it! And it was heart wrenching! Everyone came home: Uncles, Aunts, both my sisters, even the one who we had JUST seen in ALASKA flew all the way down. Kinda sucks that it takes bad circumstances before you see anyone.

Over the next couple days, we made funeral plans and went to the viewing. When we got out of the van to go into the funeral home, THAT was when I lost it COMPLETELY!  I grabbed the first person I could find, well, I guess she grabbed me as soon as I turned around, which was my very frail great-grandmother. And I was screaming. I was sobbing. All the while saying "I don't wanna go in there, I can't see him like this. It's NOT gonna be HIM! I want him back! This isn't right! This isn't right!" Mammaw just held me. Kept rubbing my back and saying "I know, baby. I know. It's gonna be okay." And my family just stood around me and waited until I stopped. A few went on ahead inside but everyone patiently waited to see him. Finally, I collected myself, stopped and Daddy grabbed me and hugged me hard. He asked if I was ready to go inside and reluctantly I said yes. Are you ever REALLY ready to see a loved one like that? Just their body? But their body doesn't really even look like them. It's all made up and cold, and fake. It's not THEM.

We went back home. I asked Nona if it would be okay for me to sing at the funeral. Everyone looked at me like I was crazy. I explained "Guys, listen. Pops loved it when I sang for him. Everytime I was with him, he asked me 'Sing something for me, buddy'. And I did and he always said it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. And music is my therapy. So I think that not only would he LOVE it, but it would really help me out a lot and I WANT to do this. This is my way of saying 'Goodbye'". My uncle Greg confirmed it. "I think she's absolutely right. I don't think anyone else should do it." So it was settled. And I even knew EXACTLY what song I would do: Go Rest High On That Mountain by Vince Gill. It was POPS. He loved gospel music, and he loved to hike. He loved the outdoors. So even before he was gone, everytime I heard that song I thought of him. So it was agreed that I would sing that song the following Sunday at my Pops' funeral.

Sunday arrived. And everyone was meeting and greeting in the fellowship hall of the church before the funeral. I asked the pastor if I could please sing first because if anything else is said or sung before, I won't be able to do it, on account I'll be crying. He chuckled and said "I'll do what I can". Well, he said a prayer and the introduction which ALMOST got me, but then I got to sing. And sing did I do. I sang as if Pops was sitting right beside me, smiling, and listening to my every word. Just like he always did everytime I sang or spoke. I never cried DURING the song. I just let it come:

I know your life on earth was trouble
And only you could know the pain
You weren't afraid to face the devil
You were no stranger to the rain

So go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a-shoutin
Love for the Father and the Son

O how we cried the day you left us
We gathered round your grave to grieve
Wish I could see the angels faces
When they hear your sweet voice sing

So go rest high on that mountain
Son, your work on earth is done
Go to heaven a-shoutin
Love for the Father and the Son
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Just like that, I said goodbye to my grandfather, my buddy, my Pops. I can't sing that song NOW without crying. I don't think I will ever be able to.  We sang Amazing Grace, which was his favorite hymn. And I cried. But I think that after I sang to my Pops, I was able to say goodbye. I was able to have closure and I was able to let him go. He will always be watching over me, he will always be my Guardian Angel.  When silly things happen to me, I'll always know its him playing tricks on me, just because that's who he was. Everytime I go back home, I always try to pay him a visit. I'll just sit at his grave and talk to him. Sometimes people who drive by think I'm crazy but I'm not. I just wanna sit and have a conversation with my Pops. I can have a conversation with him anywhere, anytime. But I like to go home, and go to where he lies. It makes me feel closer to him. Sometimes I sing the song, sometimes I tell him funny stuff, sometimes I just sit there in silence and let my heart do the talking. Maybe one day I'll try and go to where he used to hike in the Pisgah National Forest. He is with me in everything I do, he is there everywhere I go. And I will ALWAYS love him. He will never leave me. I will always think of him flying with the angels, socializing with his friends and family that have gone before him, or even after. He is probably one of the favorites in heaven, I wouldn't doubt it at all. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6jXrmAKBBTU


Good Ol Pops at Sunday morning breakfast

















Pops and I after my 5th grade Talent Show




















Clarence Ernest Goodson...July 5, 1935-July 8, 2005
May you Rest In Peace.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

M-U-S-I-C

When someone asks me what kind of music I listen to, I usually say ANYTHING and EVERYTHING.  But the main thing I look for when it comes to a "good song" is something I can sing along to.  Something that speaks to me...something I can actually understand what they are talking about.  It doesn't always have to be a "story"...sometimes the best songs have hidden meanings and are metaphoric, which are sometimes even better.

Before I say this, I want to mention that I appreciate every kind of music. From country to rap to classical to hard core screamo...it's all music and to SOMEONE it's all beautiful.  Having said that, when it comes to degrading rap talking about sluts and b****es who f**k good...that's where I draw the line.  I do not appreciate the degrading rap.

A lot of my friends like the hard-core screamo music where all I hear is RRRRRRRRRAHHHHHHHHHH IIIIII  WWWWIIIILLLLLL KIIIILLLLLLLL YYYYOOUUUUUUUU!!!! I guess I just don't understand why...and that's okay. Because I like country, and a lot of people don't. A lot of people don't hear the GOOD out of country. They hear "My truck got stole, my woman got stole, my dog died, I lost my job and now I'm drinkin at a bar" when really, that's not the case at all most of the time.  A lot of country, especially modern country has an excellent story to it, and most of it is really positive and feel-good and puts you in a good mood. And since I don't listen to a lot of screamo, maybe I don't hear the good songs.

Music has always been my escape. When I'm feeling down, I put on some music (especially the kind with a good message) and then sometimes, when I want to scream, I turn on some AC/DC (about as hard core as I go) and head bang lol (funny sight too) But at any rate, whatever it is I'm listening to, music is music. It's the most amazing, most beautiful thing in the world. It works wonders for me and many many many other people in the world. Without music, I would probably be a very very stressed out, negative, crazy, depressed person. I owe my sanity to M-U-S-I-C!

Anyway, this is me on my soapbox, what I was thinking about tonight.

Over and out.

Followers