I Will Not Be Silent - Episode 33
Scotti has lived more lives it seems than most of us. Her first child was born premature and has had many health issues these past 19 years. That experience magnified a battle of self-worth and she has come a long way: rocky marriage, 3 more kids in quick succession and a drinking problem topping the whole thing off. Listen to how she is coming through the other side by being her authentic, outspoken self.
We could have done several episodes with Scotti because she has vast experience in many arenas. The one thing I takeaway from our conversation is the confirmation that authenticity is where it’s at - it’s how to live, it’s who to be. Oh, and we never got to what Scotti is doing now! She is a balloon artist designing and creating beautiful multi-layered themed arrangements that are whimsical and can celebrate any occasion. Thanks Scotti for being you and reminding us to be who we are. We’re glad you made it through to the other side.
Strong. Compassionate. Passionate.
— Scotti
Den
Thoughts from I Will Not Be Silent
Scotti talked about grief. I’ve experienced different kinds as likely as you have. I have a current one that is sticking in my heart.
How do you begin to explain the depth of what someone means to you? It is a very difficult task to put it all into words. But I want to. You see it’s been six months since this man passed on and I am still not over it. I will never be over it. Why? Because since I was 15 years old he took an interest in me. In lots of us students. He saw us. He believed in us. He was hard on us. He had high expectations of us, and of himself too. We wanted to please him - to earn his respect. It wasn’t just for him. It was for us too. If we met the expectation, or even exceeded it, not only was he proud, we were too. We could do it. He knew we could. And now we did too.
I first met Dennis Pugh in a high school English class as he was my teacher. He seemed “old” the way adults do to teenagers. He was only 28! My high school boyfriend and I had the same class and I’ll admit there were times when we played some kissy-face during class. “Coach” never got too mad. He’d just make a funny comment and we’d stop. For a time.
One day he told me, You’re going to college. I said, I am? He said, Yes you’re going to college and you’re going to be an English teacher. No one had ever been that insistent with me about what they saw I could achieve. (Guess what? I did go to college and I did become a teacher. I tried to pass the English subject mastery test but was off by three points as I had been a psych major. I decided to go for elementary ed which I’ve never regretted.) He saw more than I did. And that’s one of the reasons he means so much to me.
He was known by “Coach” to most of us as he was head baseball coach, one time head football coach, and one time Athletic Director. He did it all. I’ve never met anyone who had the kind of humility and dedication this man had. He was at the field first thing in the morning and most nights the last to leave. He didn’t complain. He just wanted things to be right.
We kept in touch through the years going to lunch, dinner, movies, talking on the phone. There was never anything inappropriate in our relationship. Ever. I love his wife and she loves me. She understood the influence he had, the unusual bond we shared and she honored that by respecting it and never suspecting anything untoward. She knew. I knew. He knew. He was my friend. One of my best friends. And I was one of his. In fact I was married at their house. What does that tell you?
As I grew into an adult I stopped calling him “Coach” and started calling him “Den” as those closest to him did. He still expected a lot from me. He’d give me a hard time and tease me when I was dating someone he didn’t think was right for me. He was great with my son when I was a single parent. He was his godfather in fact. And Den was always there to help pick up the pieces. His present to my life was his presence in my life.
These last several years we decided to get in the habit of having lunch once a month. (Sometimes we’d call in between times or text, talking about shows we liked - Yellowstone a mutual favorite, I might ask him a sports question or two, and share with him how much I liked Nick Canepa’s sports column.) We tried different restaurants settling on one for a while and then moving on to another. We ended up at Red O which became our favorite. The valet guy even knew our names.
Dennis was a gentleman, generous, authentic, transparent, vulnerable with me, and one of my best friends. As I type this there are tears. They are real. Just as real as he was. I can’t believe he’s gone. The imprint he left on my heart is forever. Rest In Peace, my friend. Until we meet again. And we will. You can count on it.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
— Kahlil Gibran
