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Send a letter to the editor to P.O. Box 1600, Dawsonville, GA 30534; fax (706) 265-3276; or email to editor@dawsonnews.com.
DawsonOpinion
WEDNESDAY, September 12,2018
This is a page of opinion — ours, yours and
others. Signed columns and cartoons are the
opinions of the writers and artists, and they
may not reflect our views.
The importance of
everyone voting is
the one principle
both parties agree on.
Maybe teenagers do love their moms
My child’s teenage years
have given me lessons I did
not expect.
For one, I had no idea that
most of my time would be
spent feeding an ever-grow
ing human being who appar
ently was never full.
I need a GoFund Me just to
cover my grocery bill.
He can eat vast amounts of
food and still be hungry.
At the same time he pro
fesses to be near starvation,
he does not want anything
that is currently in the pantry
or fridge.
“There’s plenty to eat,” I
will tell him, running down a
list that includes pasta and
burritos among the possibili
ties.
He shakes his head. Dairy
Queen and Taco Bell were
not offered so he may very
well starve.
Thankfully, the child gets
hungry; otherwise, I wonder
if he would have a reason to
emerge from playing
Fortnite.
Besides the constant feed
ings, teenage years have
brought some angst, more on
my part than his.
Gone are the days where it
seems like I am the center of
his world.
He has pulled back just
ever so slightly, finding inde
pendence, forming his own
opinions that sometimes dif
fer from mine.
He’s growing up.
I am glad to see him mak
ing these steps even if it feels
like I am having my heart
tom out at the same time.
I still remember the little
SUDIE CROUCH
Columnist
boy who wanted to be
walked to his class while
holding my hand, giving a
kiss in the center of my palm
to “take with me.”
The little boy who never
wanted me out of his sight.
To me, in my heart, he will
always be that little boy with
the blonde hair and cherubic
cheeks that called his mama
his “sweet girl” and loved me
more than he did Piggie.
But now, he is a young
man, and doesn’t need Mama
quite as much.
It has been a hard transi
tion.
My pastor asked me just a
little over a week ago how
school was going. I told her
he was in 8th grade; she gave
me a sympathetic sigh that
only mamas can understand.
“8th grade is tough,” she
said. “But Cole is a good
kid.”
I agreed. He is.
Overall, he is a great kid.
That’s not saying he’s per
fect; he can be moody and
mouthy at times. But, consid
ering how moody and
mouthy I was at his age, he is
practically a saint.
When I was 13,1 heard my
own Mama mutter, “This is
why animals eat their young”
more times than I can count.
I pushed every boundary
button with her I could and
somehow both of us survived
even though in retrospect, I
admit I was a total brat.
And now, I am extremely
cognizant of how parenting
can be one of the most pain
ful things we do.
We lose sleep, sacrifice
things we need for things
they want.
We change our lives for a
tiny, little person and literally
move mountains that need to
be moved to give them every
thing to make their life better.
And after years of nurtur
ing, loving and sacrificing,
they become teenagers who
no longer need us quite like
they did before.
It feels like your heart has
been yanked out of your
chest and tap danced on.
I think the feeling unneed
ed is what hurts worse than
anything.
Thirteen has been the year
he has pushed away from me,
the year I started to feel obso
lete. As he creeps closer to
the edge of 14,1 have feared
he will pull away even more.
Will he just get to where he
doesn’t need me at all?
“Boys always love and
need their mom,” my pastor
promised, giving me a
squeeze.
I hoped she was right; it
didn’t feel that way some
times.
Feeling this ache prompted
me to make sure my own
Mama felt like she was still
needed and appreciated.
“Boys do always love their
mom,” she said. “I’d like to
think daughters do, too.”
“They do,” I said.
“Just remember, Kitten, it’s
good to always let folks
know you appreciate them.
Even if it is your dear old
mama. Or your child. Maybe
Cole feels like you think he
has changed so much since
he’s become a teenager, he
doesn’t know how to talk to
you anymore.”
Was that it? Surely not. I
mean, what does my Mama
know about a teenager sud
denly acting like they don’t
need their parents?
As I thought all of this
over, I realized it had been an
hour since my child had ate,
so I made him a sandwich
just the way he liked it and
took it to him while he
played his video game.
“How did you know I was
starving?” he asked, taking
the plate.
“Just thought you may be
hungry,” I said, retreating
from the room but not before
I overheard him talking to his
friend online.
“Man, my mom just
brought me a sandwich.
Gimme a second, I gotta eat.
She makes the best sand
wiches. Yeah. My mom is
amazing.”
Maybe everyone was right;
boys do always love their
moms. And maybe I don’t
have to wait until he fully
grows up to learn that.
Sudie Crouch is an award win
ning humor columnist and
author of the recently e-pub-
lished novel, "The Dahlman
Files: ATony Dahlman
Paranormal Mystery."
LETTERTOTHE EDITOR
Thoughts on
global warming
I see in the paper that glob
al warming is a crisis and that
only good Democrats can
save this world from rising
seas and high temperatures
and that President Trump is
singlehandedly undoing all
the great things Mr. Obama
did to save humanity. Ha!
It is true that the world has
been warming now for some
10,000 years and that the
growth of human population
and use of resources has been
rising at huge rates over the
last 100 years. All the data
says we now have too many
people for the carrying capac
ity of the planet. We probably
are adding to the many fac
tors that are causing the world
to warm. How much is direct
ly caused by people and how
much is caused by the natural
trends of the cosmos is debat
able.
Some scientists say we are
about due for a cold spell on
this earth and that the glaciers
could come back. If you think
global warming is a problem
for humanity then think about
what a good ice age will do.
The last time I did some read
ing on the subject the theory
was that an ice age happens
very quickly and the last time
we had one, the ice was a
mile thick in New York City.
Water in the subway will look
like a small problem then.
I notice that those advocat
ing major changes do not
change their energy con
sumption much. They drive
their SUVs, fly to their envi
ronmental conferences, run
their air conditioners and buy
products shipped around the
world on big polluting con
tainer boats. They also pass
goofy laws that cause the rest
of us to pay more for energy
use.
If the collapse of civiliza
tion caused by very rapid
global warming happens
within a very short time
frame, wars around the world
will break out as people fight
for more and more scarce
resources. The U.S. will need
a very robust military to pro
tect us, not more windmills.
I for one am not ready to
return to comfort levels of
1920 to please someone who
wants more Democrats with
their crazy political correct
ness standards rationing car
bon based energy and pre
venting the only non-carbon
power source available now
in the form of nuclear energy.
If carbon is the real problem
the only current solution is a
massive world shift to nuclear
energy. The Greenies and
their Democratic allies rail
against this and promise sal
vation by wind and solar
which have yet to prove
themselves because we have
yet to develop a cost competi
tive storage system.
Vote, but if you vote the
Democratic ticket do not
whine when your electricity
is rationed and you have to
ride your skateboard to town.
Gary Pichon
Marble Hill
Celebrating life
and legacy of
Zachary Wansley
This week marks the 10th anniversary of
the loss of our oldest grandson, Zachary
Earl Wansley. Zack was 20 at the time he
collapsed and died while training for the
Atlanta Marathon.
Running was not a new thing for Zack.
He grew up running. He was captain of his
high school cross-country team. His dad
was a coach in the sport and his brother,
Nick, is current
ly a cross-coun
try coach him
self.
He was a true
scholar-athlete,
a junior at
Georgia Tech
and a proud and
unrepentant Yellow Jacket in a family of
Bulldogs who could more than hold his
own with a bunch of woof-woofers.
Only a few months before tragedy befell
us, Zack and I took a trip to Yankee
Stadium and Fenway Park in Boston
where we were treated like royalty by the
local fans when they discovered we had
traveled up from Georgia to see their
beloved baseball teams play.
In Boston, a guy who seemed to func
tion as the group leader of the row on
which we were seated, had everybody
between us and the aisle stand up so we
could leave first after the game and receive
high-fives as we departed. An unforgetta
ble experience.
My grandsons are big, strapping guys
who know not to expect a handshake from
their grandfather. Only hugs. Whether that
embarrasses them or not is irrelevant. I
hug.
My last contact with Zack came as he
was leaving our house. He stuck out his
hand to say goodbye, remembered the
rules and we had a hug. That hug will last
me a lifetime.
I either can’t or won’t deal with the
details of the day we lost him. For some
reason, my mind blanks out. It is just as
well. It doesn’t change anything.
One of the first calls I received was from
my hero, former Gov. Carl Sanders. He
had recently lost a grandson to leukemia.
He said no one should outlive their chil
dren or grandchildren. I agree. I never
expected that to happen.
In my first column after losing Zack, I
said I could never tease about Georgia
Tech again. It hurt too much. That drew a
response from Tech fans saying that would
not be Zack’s wishes. On his behalf, they
said they could dish it out as well as take it
and to bring it on. That was pure class.
Maybe it was no coincidence that Tech
upset Georgia that year in Athens, of all
places. Is it possible that God is not a
Bulldog after all?
I don’t know about other columnists and
their readers, but I feel a very special and
personal relationship with you. We have
laughed together and cried together. You
have fussed at me when you thought I
needed it and praised me when you
thought I had earned it. You have reminded
me that my words can have an impact. But
so can yours.
I recently received a letter from a reader
in Cobb County, Jack Harris. Last
November, two of his sons were killed in a
head-on collision on 1-16 as they were on
their way back to Georgia Southern
University following their Thanksgiving
break. He said it had taken him nine
months to find the right words to say in
response to a column I had written on that
tragedy. It was worth the wait.
Mr. Harris said. “My life is now divided
into the time before November 26, 2017,
and the time after that date. I clearly see
the futility of most things over which we
argue, worry, or become angered. I see sit
uations that people fail to forgive over and
instead distress over, and I say to myself,
‘Why can’t they see? None of it matters.’ I
see people losing lifelong friends over
political issues and minor disagreements. I
see all the needless pain we cause each
other, and therefore ourselves, and am at a
loss as to why humans seem incapable of
letting go of the smallest slight.”
Maybe you can’t grasp what he is trying
to tell us because you haven’t been
through what he and his family have been
through and what my family and I have
experienced. Life can be short, unpredict
able and cruel. Don’t waste a minute of it
grinding over the small stuff. Yesterday is
gone and we aren’t guaranteed a tomor
row. Today is precious. Live it well and
make the world just a bit better because
you were here. And whatever you do, hug
those you love. Always, always hug.
You can reach Dick Yarbrough atdick@dickyar-
brough.com; at P.O. Box 725373, Atlanta, GA
31139; online atdickyarbrough.com or on
Facebook at wvwv.facebook.com/dickyarb.
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Mail letters to the Dawson County
News, RO. Box 1600, Dawsonville, GA
30534, hand deliver to 30 Shoal Creek
Road, fax to (706) 265-3276 or e-mail to
editor@dawsonnews.com.
DICKYARBROUGH
Columnist