another blog to Dr. Samuel Garner Jr

James Samuel Garner, Jr.

Date of Birth:

Thursday, February 14th, 1918

Date of Death:

Wednesday, May 18th, 2011

Funeral Home:

Miller & Richards Funeral Home and Cremation Service Heritage Chapel

1148 North Broad Street

2542 Shorter Ave.

Rome, Georgia, UNITED STATES

30161

Obituary:

Dr. James Samuel Sam Garner Jr.
Dr. James Samuel Sam Garner Jr died on May 18, 2011 at the age of 93. He was born in Floyd County, GA February 14, 1918 and was the son of Dr. James Samuel Garner, Sr and Bonnie Wimpee Garner. Dr. Garner survived his first wife Alice Tate Garner and second wife Betty Hyden Garner.
He is survived by his children Marcia Tate Garner Andrews and her husband Charles Reneau Andrews III of Cumming, GA; John Geston Garner and his wife Bob Ann Allen Garner of Rome; Beth Garner Tibboel and her husband Keith of Charleston, SC. He was predeceased by his daughter Lynne Garner Jordan and his son James Samuel Garner III, and by two grandchildren Allison Ann Garner and James Allen Garner.
He is also survived by family members Ben and Mary Margaret Whittington, Dr. and Mrs. Pope Jordan, and Mrs. Cheryl Garner of Rome, Debbie and John Turner and Bill Hyden of Trion.Dr. Garners grandchildren are Alicia Haff, Laura Baker, Amy Scott, Andrea Garramone, Garner Andrews, Lynne Brons, Betsey Andrews, Margaret Chind, Ches Garner, and Sam Garner. His great grandchildren are Polly and Peter Haff,; Hudson, Truitt and Georgia Baker; Lindsey, Peyton, and Tate Andrews; Edmund, Tess Charlize, Jack, Miriam and Gil Brons and Charlotte Chind.
Dr. Garner attended Wake Forest University and the University of Georgia where he was a Phi Beta Kappa graduate He graduated in December 1943 from Emory University School of Medicine and honorably served in the United States Navy with the Marines in the 2nd Expeditionary Force in the Pacific during World War II. He served again in the Korean War. Dr. Garner was a well loved physician practicing in Rome, GA for over 40 years. He was the author of a popular geneaology work titled Southern Garners, Our Branch of the Garner-Keene Family and of an anecdotal autobiography titled Something Hit The Cotton. He will be sorely missed by those whose lives he enriched.
Visitation will be at the Miller-Richards Heritage Chapel Friday evening from 6 until 8 PM . A Celebration of Life will be conducted at 10 AM Saturday, May 21,2011 at the Miller Richards Heritage Chapel. Private interment will follow at Sunset Hill Memory Garden. Please visit our website www.millerandrichardsfuneralhome.com to sign the guestbook and share memories.
In lieu of flowers donations may be made to the Salvation Army, 317 East First Avenue Rome GA 30161 or the Heyman HospiceCare P.O. Box 163 Rome, GA 30162.
The Heritage Chapel of the Miller Richards Funeral Home, 1148 North Broad Street, Rome GA is serving the family of Dr. James Samuel Sam Garner, Jr.

practice

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Nobody is perfect

     No one is perfect all the time.  Even my wonderful, loyal and sweet husband.  I say this because at 3 am this morning I was WOKEN up by a soft voice saying, "The Mavs won, I wish I'd seen it."  He turned the game off when the Mavs were down 15 with 5 minutes left.  At that point I didn't care.  I was pissed that he had woken me up with this USELESS information.  When I found out what time it was he went and slept on the couch.  He is currently hoping they will replay the entire 5 minutes.  For those of that don't know me, I have significant trouble sleeping and when I do get to sleep it is a very light sleep.  Anyone that dares to wake me up will face the wrath of a grumpy fussy Andrea.
     At this point I would like to get heavy red and gold curtains for the guest bedroom so I can sleep in there when Mike gets annoying.  I want to tell all of the married people out their to have an extra, dark, QUIET place in case your partner decides to idiotically wake you up.  Mike has been forgiven and is out of danger.  He is happy because he is seeing the game that he missed.  I am fine because he went to the couch of his own volition... what a smart man.  I have never kicked him out of bed before.  He will kick himself out of bed for minor infractions and I will tell him to please sleep in our bed.  He had no such luck last night.
   
     My grandfathers flag is on top of the bookcase in the living room.  That is where we spend most of our time and entertain guests.  I am very proud of the flag. 

Definitions

I was Not humbled to receive his flag.  I was honored.  I used to not make a habit of using words that I apparently did not know the meaning of.  However since the surgery I have forgotten what several words mean, much to my dismay.   I looked like a fool I tell you a FOOL!!!
   Oh heavens, I sent out thank you cards maybe I can intercept them before they go out.  I hope I can.   Not humbled HONORED HONORED HONORED.  
      I am such an Idiot!!!
If I could go back to 3rd grade I would because I need to relearn that stuff.

Something hit the cotton requests

I have recently received requests for copies of Dr. Sam Garners' humorous autobiographical sketches.  It is an unpublished "book" of his years during the depression and wars.  My aunt has agreed to make copies and send them out to anyone who wants it.

 I will be glad to print more copies of "Something  Hit the Cotton". To print and mail more I will need to charge $7.50. So have anyone who wants a copy mail a check for $7.50 to address, 6479 Valley Stream Dr. Cumming, GA 30040, made out to The Garner Cemetery Trust.

In addition Grandaddy was the family genealogist.  He traced the Garner family line back to the 1600s.  It is very informative and he did all the research before the days of internet.
 
So, if you would like a copy of that: 
 If anybody other than Daddy's descendants wants a copy of Southern Garners they are $35 which includes shipping. They should send a check to the address listed above made to the Garner Cemetery Trust also. I will send free ones to Daddy's descendants.

Highest Honor

     Dr. James Samuel Garner Jr. was laid to rest yesterday.  I was honored, not to mention stunned when my aunt Mardi (now the matriarchof the family) asked me if I would ride in the Limo to the funeral, I humbly accepted.  The funeral was beautiful and Charlies' words were eloquent and touching.  It was everything that Grandaddy would have wanted.  Charlie made us cry then he made us laugh.  Then my cousin stood up and said a prayer, we sang a few hymns and the ceremony closed.  However when following Beth behind the casket I saw her wipe a tear away and the emotions swelled.  It wasn't a huge loss of my emotions but I cried, (I actually lost it a little) for the first time that day but not the last. 
  
     We followed the casket to the cemetery where Grandaddy was laid to rest beside his one true love and soulmate Grandmamma (Sweet Alice). Garner read the marine poem "Crossing the Bar" which as he said was absolutely perfect. The ceremony was concluded with the folding of the American flag.  Grandaddy would have been amused at the fact the marine doing the folding had to stop twice, go back a couple folds, tighten, and refold.  The marine then presented Johns' wife, Bobanne with the flag.  After the service I was the first to walk up to marines and thank them, it came out as a whisper because I just knew if I tried to speak any louder my voice would crack.

      My aunt Mardi walked up to me with the flag and did something so unexpected it floored me.  She said they had discussed it and decided I should have the flag.  I was so touched, honored, humbled and shocked that I almost lost it right there in the middle of the cemetery. 

     After a visit with the family everyone started to leave.  Needless to say it had been a HARD couple of days.  I got in the booger mobile (my booger colored rental) and drove to the cemetery.  I had to do this for my own sanity.  When I got there it was cleaned up and Grandaddy was in the ground.  I sat down and let it all out. I try not to cry in public, so I felt safe there at his grave.  I told him how much I love him and how I know he will be watching over me....and so on and so forth.  I know he was there because I felt him and I actually heard him say "That's enough" I know it sounds CRAZY but that is what happened.  He would say "Stop crying, that's enough"  As it type I am getting a lump in my throat.

     I cried on the plane so much that my face and eyes burned from the stings of tears.  It was a pretty empty flight and I chose a seat in the front by the window, (as private as one can get in a flying tube), I read the eulogy again and cried.  Then I read "Something Hit the Cotton" and laughed.  But by the time we landed and Mike picked me up I was ready to really let it ALL out.  So in the car prior to leaving I shoved the emotional block aside and unabashedly bawled into my husband shirt.  After that I felt better.  We went to dinner with friends and I brought out "Something Hit the Cotton".  Natalie laughed hard at the Calhoun Falls train ride, Paul guffawed at the fact they took a COW through the house and lead her OFF the roof, Adam was intrigued by the fact that I have just as hard a head as my Grandaddy.  Which I have to say my hard head had saved my neck more than a few times.

     I woke up after a dream about him.  There were no details, just a familiar place.  The house that Sam built.  Only it was brand new and Grandmamma was there, Grandaddy was young, and they were happy.  I reckon that I saw a glimpse of heaven and that gives me comfort because now I know I am going to be fine.  Grandaddy is happy again.

     I have been fervently praying for years for him to pass with no pain.  I just neglected to pray for the living to not have pain. 

     A poem by Mary Elizabeth Frye touched me

“Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight.
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there — I do not die. ”

Memories

    When someone dies just know they are at peace an always will be.  Never again will they have to deal with the trials and tribulations of life here on this earth.  I find comfort in not thinking of it as an ending but as the beginning of a brand new chapter.  Unfortunately you will not know what death is like until it happens to you, and then you can't tell anybody about it.  I think of that as Gods gotcha moment.
     I have seen a whole lot of people that I don't remember but they remember me.  When I look confused the all say "I could never forget you Andrea".  I don't know if this is good or bad or a little of both.

    Tomorrow is the funeral and Charlie (my uncle) is going to tell stories as a eulogy.  Grandaddy was a really funny guy, if you didn't get to meet him read "Something Hit the Cotton"  it is a humorous autobiography.  My father took a cues from him on boyfriends.  He didn't learn their names until they were around for at least 6 months.  Then he called them the wrong name on purpose (trying to get a rise out them?) more likely to show them they need to earn his respect.  That was hard.  Grandaddy did not like being kissed by his grandchildren which seemed a little cold until Dad put it in perspective.  He comes home from a long day of dealing with whiny kids, (Being a pediatrician) sit s down outside with a drink and friends trying to shrug the day off and some little snot nose kid come and slobers all over you.  I think I respect him for that.

     I remember when I came to 90th birthday as a surprise.  I had not seen him move so fast in years.  I was flattered.  Of course he apparently wore himself out with the effort and gout and had to sit for the rest of the time we were there.  I remember his laugh, his hugs, above all his unyielding support.  I remember the time he took one of my boyfriends out on the golf cart and showed him around his property.  I think he just wanted to get to know him.  His name was Joe so Grandaddy called him Marvin or Herbert or Billy. 

     When Grandaddy met Michael he immediately called him by his correct name and seemed pleased that I found someone that was not only willing to but excited about sharing the rest of my life with.  That day I found out that Grandaddy was scheduled to storm a beach in the war but we dropped a bomb that saved his life.  That bomb saved ALL our lives because he did not have children yet.  See Told you God has a plan and everything happens for a reason. 

prepping for tragedy

     No matter what, you cannot prepare yourself for a tragedy.  I have been bracing myself for this loss for a long time.  I cannot stop the hurt, I know this.  I used to make myself believe that something horrible happened and I would cry.  That was my way of prepping for tragedy.  It does not work.  No matter what, it causes a fresh hurt, a tear in the soul, an indescribable pain.  Only faith and family can get you through the event.  If you have been through as much crap as my family has, you get strong or die.  You support each other, or watch each other go insane.  If you have a strong family unit, one of you can be teetering on the brink of insanity and a family member will pull you back to solid ground.  That is a connection that is much greater than friendship, it's blood.

     Cancer is synonymous with death.  But none of us get out of life alive.  So whats the point of fearing death.  We are all mortal, we will all die. When you die it will be as it was before you were born.  Out of pain, out of consciousness.  Whatever else there is we will not be able to tell our loved ones.  They will find solace in their faith, whatever that may be.

     Life is full of twists and turns.  Life will take you to places that you never imagined.  You will find strength you did not know you had.  I look back at my life and realize I have tapped into strength reserves that I had no idea were there.

     My point is there is nothing you can do to stop the feeling of pain that comes from a death in the family.  Even if you have been prepping for years.

Rest in peace Dr Samuel Garner you were the patriarch of our family and will be missed terribly.  But I am glad you are out of pain.

I have always been clumsy

I have always been clumsy.  But 2 days ago I whacked my self in the head with my car door.  I later figured that I should NOT have been leaning forward to see out of the opening garage door while simultaneously opening my car door.  I whacked myself so hard that I stumbled 6 feet back to the wall in the garage and was stunned for a few seconds.  It is like when Boots (quarterhorse) reared up and kicked me in the head at the farm.  I whipped him around and pushed him backwards into his paddock, let him go, shut the gate, then collapsed.  Saw stars for about a minute then went inside.  He probably gave me a mild concussion but I did not go to a doctor and if Sarah reads this, this is the first she is finding out about the accident.  It could have been so much worse, Boots shied at a loud noise coming from the truck painting the fence.  I felt him rearing and turned so he did not get me with his entire hoof in the back of the head but instead got me on the right side of my head with the front of his hoof.  That was the HARDEST hit I have EVER taken.  It hurt so badly, but I muscled through the pain.

     When I worked on the farm I took some hard hits from horses, and got tossed into a wall in the barn the equine therapist told me don't move because she though I broke my hip.  But, being stubborn I told don't call an ambulance I am fine and my hip is not broken.  The bruise was hoof shaped and sized and turned all colors of the rainbow.  Sarah sent me for a massage, it was the first massage I had ever had and it was AWESOME. 
     On the farm I was on foal watch and was present for all but 2 births.  One of those was Rab and he was breach, it was an extremely difficult delivery Sarah had to reach into Czaria and position the foal to come out. When he was safely out I was COVERED in placenta juice and birthing fluid,  needless to say my clothes were toast. She told me to go smoke a cigarette.  I cannot imagine what I must have looked like.  But the foal I most admired was named Lana and she was red bag which means "water" had not broken and she was born in what looked like a red sack.  She was septic and had all sorts of other problems she should have been stillborn but was such a fighter that she went to the hospital and they sent her home.  Sarah and I were in the stall when she seized and died in my arms.  Sarah was running to get some sort of life saving kit and I was giveing mouth to nose CPR.  But Lana had had enough.  She was such a fighter. 
     Just like the racehorse Smooth as Silver the horse was lame and Roland told Steve has shouldn't race him.  But Steve being bull headed butcher did not care.  He demanded that Smooth be raced.  Smooth broke out of the gate and had a lead and he would've lead wire to wire if not for the fact that in the home stretch his front left leg snapped but he ran on to get 4th.  When he was vanned off the track it was discover that his leg was broken in 3 places and he was put down the next day.  Think about what a waste that was.  Smooth was a champion and his career was ruined by a man who just did not care.
   During my time on the track and farm I had many experiences that other people never get to have. I was present for a castration (Gelding of a stallion)  I palpated a mare.  Which is where you put on a glove that goes up to your armpit and stick your hand into a mare and feel the opening of her reproductive organs.  That was the coolest experience ever.  Though the majority of people would think it is disgusting as hell.

  That is why I work with boarded horse now and not racehorse or breeding horses or show horses.  The horses I work with now are perfectly calm and old and they know better.   There is not foaling at 2 am and waiting to see if the placenta has 2 horns then waiting to make sure that nothing goes wrong.  A foal can be born perfectly healthy at 2 am and then be dead at 6 am.  If no one is there watching then nobody is there to call the vet. Then you have lost a perfectly good foal and foals are $$. $$makes the world go round and it is expensive to take care of horses. I remember Visiting Bea a 19 yr old horse that was pregnant had a hemmorage and died in the field. I was out and felt so guilty the guilt ate at me when I went out to the field and sat with her body.  She was a beautiful thoroughbred mare and had I been more vigilant I may have been able to prevent her death.  That has plagued me ever since.  That and when the dalmatian pack broke into the field and ate Irma alive.  I was alone on the farm and the neighbors heard my frantic screams for help and came over.  I called Sarah and she rushed home.  Irma was a goat and therefore heavier than I could lift so the only thing I could do was make calls and make sure that vet was ready for us.  I don't remember how we got her into the truck but I do remember that she passed out and I did something that I will forever regret because thinking of it now it seems cruel.  I rubbed her all over to get her circulation going again and gave her mouth to nose resucitation and brought her back to consciousness only to have the vet put her down.  If you think animals don't feel then you have obviously never heard a goat scream in pain.  I wished I had just let her die in the back of the truck because she was in excruciating pain. I heard her screams in my nightmares for weeks after.  That day on the way back Sarah and I made a mutual decision that I should move on from the farm.  I was emotionally immature to handle all that.  I was mad at first, but the anger melted into overwhelming guilt over the fact that I had not been there to prevent the attack.  In my defense I never thought that the dogs would break into the field much less attack and eat a goat.  I remember that day and it will be with me until I die.  I am glad that I did not jump into the pasture and try to beat them off because they would have most definately turned on me and with the pack mentality they had they would have most likely killed me. Then Sarah would have come home to an extremely shocking and heartbreaking scene.  But I try not to think about that because Sarahs mother went over to the neighbor that owned the dogs and told him what they did.  In response he pulled out a shotgun and blew all the dogs away right in front of her.  She was understandably terrified because he could have shot her.  Needless to say that was a very bad day.  When I am having a bad day I think about that day and my life and day doesn't seem so bad. 

     The day of the dogs was the worst day of my life and that is why I am terrified of dalmatians.

Well I have rambled enough and will probably get flack from Sarah for this blog, but it was in 03 and now it is 11.  I have never admitted it to myself that all of that could have been prevented had I just been more vigilant.  I am so sorry Sarah.

Nothing good comes from jealousy

My friend asked me point blank what I plan to do with the rest of my life.  I thought about that and replied I would like to be an inspiration.  But I know now that I will never be as inspiring as another cancer survivor because her blog reaches a ton more people than mine does. 
                                             So I thank YOU for reading this.

     My old friend Cowboy gave me a card that said forgiveness on it.  From the day he gave it to me I have kept it.  I had with me at his funeral and I look at it whenever I get angry at someone or something.  He gave it to me on my worst day that I can remember.  I was so pissed off at the world that day that my speech therapist had me punch a bag and we did not even try to do any therapy that day.  At the end of my session somehow Cowboy and I met up and he walked with me out to the car before I got in the car he hugged me and said "It will get better, stay strong."  Now at the time the words did not resonate with me I was like, "yeah whatever."  However I pass that advice along to anyone that will listen.  I still have the card and Cowboy is MY inspiration.

  Rest in peace Cowboy.  You will NOT be forgotten.  I meant what I said to you in the hospital you gave me the strength I needed and you continue to be a guardian angel to me.  I thank God that I was lucky enough to have met someone like you.  God sure knows what he is doing, even if it doesn't feel like it.

  

Hello again

     So my computer caught a nasty virus that caused my system to screw up and Blogger not to work for a few weeks.  Luckily my wonderful engineer husband saved my stuff and wiped my hard drive and now the problem is fixed!!!  I realize that I might have lost a few readers during my forced hiatus... eh well.  I am not worried.  I do this for my own catharsis.
   
      So since I have blogged last alot has transpired.  I quit Equest.  Pam told me I was slipping into a dangerous depression and I needed to get out of the house.  So I started taking riding lessons at WSSP, and working from 8-11 Monday and Friday.  Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday I just go to take the horses out.  Sergio takes 5 at a time.  I take 1 at a time or 2.  Depends on how I feel.  When I go there I want to feel useful so when he comes walking out of the barn with 5 horses it makes me feel useless even though I know I am not.  That is just how Sergio rolls he has mastered the job of barn management.

     Anyway I am getting my strength back.  Friday I went with Freya to dump the manure and I picked up the huge heavy tarp and tossed it in the back of the truck all by myself.  Now you may be saying to yourself WTF are you proud of yourself for?  I am proud because during the treatment I got so weak that I could not lift over 10 lbs.  Also the muscles in my legs atrophied from non use.  Amanda, my trainer said her goal for me is to be able to post for 30 full minutes. She saw that my right side is significantly weaker than my left side and said we are going to concentrate on that.  I surprised myself with my ability to balance on a moving horse.  I was able to do a 2 point on a trotting horse after only 5 tries.  Granted it was only for about 5 seconds but I did it.  She let me hold the back of the saddle to gain my balance or if I thought I was going to fall off.  Sam (the horse) sensed that I was not so skilled and was careful not to toss me off into the dirt.  Amanda says I am a nervous rider and I waste alot of energy by gripping with my legs when I should just be one with the horse.  As a matter of fact the first time I trotted with Sam I tensed up so much that he automatically went into a walk.  Amanda said that was because I got so tense.  Also she saw I was gritting my teeth and told me not to do it, after 3 times telling me gently not to grit my teeth she said, "Andrea I DON"T want to see you grit your teeth ANYMORE."  I mad a conscious effort to keep myself from doing it from then on. 

     I am in private lessons due to the fact that I am medically not allowed to jump at all.  I think that is better for me right now.  Basically this is additional physical therapy for me.  Riding strengthens and tones every muscle in your body, it is kind of like swimming only not wet.

     I feel the need to give back because of all the people that helped me through the extremely difficult treatment.  The past 2 years have been a fight for my life and no one would allow me to give up.  Thank you guys more than words can say. 

     Contingent on the fact that my computer stays healthy I will blog later.