Being a coach's wife means your life is built around seasons—football seasons, wrestling seasons, school years, and sometimes, seasons of transition.
For our family, those seasons have all taken place right here in Vidalia. We haven't packed up and moved from town to town like many coaching families. Instead, we've stayed rooted in one place while watching a lot of coaches and their families come and go through our schools.
With each stop, each new face, we've gathered more than just memories—we've gathered people who feel like family.
It's funny how this life works. You don't have to move across the state to become part of different communities. When you stay in one place long enough, you realize that the community comes to you. You meet new players, new coaches, and new families every year. And each one leaves their mark. You cheer for teams you've never heard of before. You learn the names of players who will always hold a special place in your heart. You meet fellow coaches' wives and coaching families who become your people, even after they move on to new schools.
We've been blessed to get to know and be impacted by every coaching family that's come through Vidalia. Their wives, their kids, their extended families—they've all left their mark on our lives. We've shared meals, shared bleachers, shared celebrations, and shared disappointments.
The relationships built through those experiences don't fade when the seasons change. We still keep in touch, sending messages after big wins, reaching out after tough losses, and checking in just to see how life is going.
Over the years, these connections grow into something much deeper. We've celebrated births and weddings together, mourned losses, and walked through divorces and family struggles with people who started as 'just' fellow coaches' families. We've prayed together, cried together, and laughed through seasons of life far beyond the game.
That's the kind of bond this coaching life creates—one that weaves into the fabric of your own family story. One of the most meaningful parts of this life is seeing those relationships continue long after the Friday night lights fade. Former players come back to introduce us to their spouses and children. Coaches' wives, whom I once sat beside in the stands, have become lifelong friends.
The game brought us together, but life has kept us connected. Being a coach's wife teaches you that success isn't just about the wins and losses. It's about the lives you touch along the way. Every team, every season, every coaching family has left a mark on me. I carry pieces of those people with me, long after the final whistle blows.
One of the greatest joys is watching this legacy continue through our own family. Our oldest son, Grady, married his wife, Sarah, right here in our hometown. They've chosen to build their life in Vidalia, staying close to their roots. Their son, Charlie—our precious grandson—is the next chapter of this story. Soon, he'll be walking the same hallways, playing on the same fields, and becoming part of the same community that shaped generations before him.
It's a legacy lived out in real time, and it fills my heart with pride. It's a special kind of legacy. One built quietly, from the stands, from the sidelines, and in the small moments no one else sees. It's not about headlines or trophies. It's about relationships. It's about investing in people. And while my husband has done that on the field and on the mat, I've done the same in the stands, in the booster clubs, and in the quiet support of the coaching families who walk this path with us.
To be a coach's wife is to build a community that stretches far beyond any one school or team. Even when you stay in the same place, the ripple effect of your impact reaches far and wide. It's a life of connection, of shared experience, and of leaving a little piece of your heart with every person who crosses your path.
And honestly? I wouldn't trade it for anything.
