A Closet Tale

This (of course) is not my actual closet. But it's pretty darn close. (I don't think I've ever taken a cake in there.) Cleaning it out was daunting.

When you have a large closet, it's very easy to fill. Clothing and accessories add up. Even though I'm not a shopper, I am also not very good at getting rid of things. The luxury of lots of space quickly became a dumping ground. Even I had to admit it was ridiculous. Tons of outdated clothing or items I would never wear again were squished against each other. Accessories and miles of shoes were on top of each other. Old business suits were neighbors with bad resort/vacation clothes. In the middle of the mess, I was able to identify a few items I actually wear.

Also, we used to keep boxed photos in the basement. After a pipe leak or some other disaster we re-boxed thousands of photos (without any organization or cleaning out the duplicates) and stored them in one of the guest room closets. When the Captain and the Belle moved in, we moved all of the boxes to my closet.

I also found miles of yarn and semi-completed knitting and crocheting projects. I rarely do either of these activities any more. And to top it off, excess wrapping paper, miscellaneous cards and ribbons, and wrapping supplies were crammed in a corner.

Sounds like a pretty picture, doesn't it?

I have completed about 90% of the clean up. Since I am emotionally attached to many items -- even ones I will never use or wear -- it has been difficult. I find myself thinking, "Oh, I wore that when we ..." At that moment, I want to hang on to it. Instead I am training myself to hang on to the memory.

Snow Days

We're still digging out from the 15-plus inches of snow we received Tuesday night and Wednesday. The city is slowly coming back to life but the first day was a nightmare for many.

The kindness of neighbors continues to amaze me. My father is no longer on the sick pillow but still recovering from pneumonia. Twice he's gone outside to shovel and neighbors run over to send him in the house. Even I have done some shoveling but when I told a friend, he didn't believe me.

Do you remember the feeling of waiting to hear if school was cancelled for the day? I swear a collective cheer could be heard throughout my childhood neighborhood once we knew it was a snow day. It was too dangerous to tromp to the bus stop or walk to school but we could be suited up and out to play in minutes. Sledding, making snow angels, building snowmen or just romping. It was all such fun. Although I will admit to being a weenie about sledding. High speed was never my goal and I always feared hitting a tree. Life can't be all fun -- I recall being knocked off a sled or two. Then it's take a break, have some cocoa, then bundle up for round two.

Snow days for adults have less appeal. We worry about straining our back while shoveling. Frankly, I worry about the old bird across the street who reshovels the end of her driveway. Is this really worth the risk at her age? When my prior oldies (the Belle and the Captain) lived with us, they could fall for no reason at all. Walking through the house was a fall waiting to happen. Yet this neighbor who is older than they were is out there on a mission.

We worry about the condition of the roads. We worry about other drivers. I am always certain I will get stuck and I usually do. Hot chocolate doesn't seem like enough of a reward for risking my life behind the wheel. Nine layers of clothing make most of us look and feel like the Goodyear blimp -- never my fashion goal.

I don't wish to be a child again but I wouldn't mind having a moment of the pure ecstasy associated with snow days.

Winter Vacations

I wasn't able to vacation last winter -- I don't think two trips to Mississippi to bury the Belle and the Captain count as fun getaways. For a wide variety of reasons, I won't be taking any fun jaunts this winter either. As long as I can remember, I've looked forward to winter trips. Indiana winters can be brutal and endless gray days make for endlessly gray moods.

I have been so blessed with travel opportunities over the years. Friends with second homes in warm weather cities have welcomed me many times. (Southwest Florida is Ditto Indiana -- it's practically impossible to vacation there and not run into someone you know.) I have also traveled on business and tagged along with the husband any time I was allowed. Over the weekend, several of our couple friends left on a 7-day cruise and I'm jealous. In a couple of weeks, the workout girls head to Zona. Memories of great times will have to warm me this year.

I've never understood adults who vacation in the summer. I'm not talking about family vacations while the children are out of school but couple time or girlfriend trips.

Indiana is plenty nice for most of the year but in January, February and March, I'm constantly itching to get out of Dodge. Maybe next year.

Relatives and Memories

These are my grandparents, Bobbie and Pa. Those were my names for them and I miss them terribly. I think of them every day and now I think of them every time I walk into my mother's office where she keeps this photo on her desk. This photo was taken at my first wedding in 1984. They have both been gone for many years but they do live on in our hearts.

Today would've been Bobbie's birthday. I'm not big on visiting people's gravesites. I'd rather visit the memories in my mind. I can still picture her overly-stuffed house with a feast on the table for every holiday or family meal. I still don't understand how she managed it on her meager budget. I treasure every bowl or platter she gave me. For the rest of my life, any entertaining I do will include some of Bobbie's dishes. When dividing our household items, I have no interest (or moral right) to the silver we inherited from the Captain and the Belle. I will fight to the finish for my dimestore and garage sale glass items that my grandmother gave me with love.

On another note, we just concluded a visit with my aunt and her boyfriend. We only had a couple of days and they went way too fast. But, more memories were visited and more memories were made.

Afeared of Fire

I love a roaring fire in the fireplace or a bonfire at a weinie roast. But other than that, I have an obsessive fear of fire. Twice I have had my hair singed. Once was at an REO concert and the person behind me got a little carried away waving her lighter. The other time a friend had a lit candle on the back of her toilet and my big hair got in the way.

When the Belle and the Captain lived with us, my firewoman patrol was on active duty, 24/7. More than once:

I found evidence of the Belle smoking in bed.
I found burning candles in the bedroom and/or bath after they left the house.
She caught both ovens on fire.
She left the house with the gas stove top blazing.
She caught bacon wrappers, paper towels and various other counter items on fire.

I considered strapping a fire extinguisher to my person, along with my glasses, cell phone, pens, etc. Instead I became a maniac about checking the batteries in the smoke detectors and checking each room on a regular basis.

The oldies are gone but my fear lingers. Now that I live with my oldies, I'm on needless patrol but it doesn't stop me. If anyone starts roasting chestnuts on an open fire during this season, I'm running in the opposite direction.

A Belated Apology to the Captain and the Belle

When my world was rocked several years ago by the realization that we were going to move the husband's parents into our home, I was nervous but I hope I was also welcoming. As one of my favorite songs goes, "Life was changed, rearranged."

Once again, life is imitating that song's lyrics.

And I realized that I used them as a scapegoat for many things. So, this is my letter to them:

Dear Mom & Pop,

If anyone had told me three years ago that I would miss you as much as I do, I might have rolled my eyes. No, I don't miss the falling and the illnesses. I don't miss the frying. I miss the Belle at the piano and modeling new clothes. I miss the woman who was tough as steel and gentle as a dove. I miss the Captain's stories.

You both showed me love and concern. should've listened more often. I should've said thank you more often. I should've recognized the gift of you.

Stress comes in many forms and from many places. I apologize for often placing the blame on you.

The Cane

This photo was taken at our friend Mome's 90th birthday party. I'm sorry the oldies didn't get to have a 90th birthday.

On good days, the Belle did not need her cane. Toward the end, the Captain used a walker but we knew it was a good day when all he wanted was the cane. Just like their personalities, her cane was bright and festive. His was solid wood -- no flash.

Do you remember the end of the movie "Miracle on 34th Street?" Natalie Wood finds Kris Kringle's cane in the house he has directed her to see.

This morning I was in the garage and I looked up to see the Captain's cane propped against the wall. It has to have been there for at least eight months.

There are miracles everywhere and sometimes they are simple enough to jar you. I don't think the Captain/Unabomber/Hangdog was Kris Kringle. I do think I was reminded to spend some time thinking about him today.

Nervous Times

The economy is a mess. I realize this is not news to you but it's scary. All of us are feeling the pinch in different ways.

The election is less than a month away. I try to be an independent thinker and study the candidates and the issues that I care about. I'm still nervous about both teams.

The husband is having surgery tomorrow. I am not worried about the actual surgery; I'm worried that he will be trapped with me for at least three days. We are used to coffee and crosswords in the morning and evenings together. Even when we go on vacation, he plays golf and I go to the beach.

Some years are better than others. We lost the Belle in January and the Captain in March.

I don't need to get on a treadmill; I'm pacing enough to get my workout done.

Actual Sentences Said to Me

This has been a weird year and we're only three quarters of the way through it.

It started in January when the Belle made it clear, in actions and in words, that she was done. She wanted to die and I believe she willed herself to die.

The Captain was a lost sailor without her. He would often tell me or the husband that he wanted to die. He did.

A friend told me that she's reevaluating her life and doesn't need friends.

My father said he wasn't feeling well. In my opinion, he was receiving inadequate medical care. I jumped in and now I'm sure my parents want to knock me out of the way.

The husband told me the other night that we need a new adventure. I'm not sure what planet he comes from but my life is already an adventure. I want him healthy and happy. I want my parents healthy. I want the baby to excel in college. I want my girlfriends to be able to take a deep breath without worrying about children, parents, grandchildren, etc.

Someone said to me, "I don't like your husband sometimes." If there's a person that you like 100 percent, all the time -- my bet is that you don't know that person very well.

Dads

The Captain had many reasons to be proud: WWII pilot, engineering career, an enduring marriage with a wife who adored him and more. I wish I had captured the gleam in his eyes when he spoke of his boys.

Today is Father’s Day and I am remembering the Captain/Hangdog/Unabomber. I’m thinking about last year and the absolute joy on his face when his sons or grandchildren called to acknowledge the holiday. We had a dinner, complete with three Roman generations of men. We’ll do the same today but there will be an empty chair.

My father did not get sons. He got stuck with me. Boy, have I put him through the wringer! Yet, he’s always made me feel like the smartest, the most talented daughter in the world.

We’ve all heard the stories and read the statistics. Children who grow up without a father are more likely to:

Abuse drugs and alcohol
Suffer in poverty
Drop out of school
Join a gang
Repeat the cycle

I’ve always heard that men want sons. It may be about carrying on the lineage and the family name. (You will have to kill me before I stop using the Riley name.)I watched this magician the other day. His trick was to put a bunch of people on a mat and then cover them in a bubble. I thought, “Hah! My dad has put me in a bubble for years.” One of his few quirks is when he’s mad or disappointed in me, he leaves it to my mother to tell me.

Here are a few things about my dad you may not know:

His childhood was beyond unfair. It makes me cry. He survived.

He describes his first date with my mother as, “Love at first sight.” I think they still like each other.

When my mother got bored with my ineptness, he continued to help me learn how to skip.

As an adult, I’ve never lived anywhere without my father painting, repairing, building.

His word is a bond. It’s ironclad. He’s the strongest (and I don’t mean just physical) person I know.

He doesn’t have to have the last word.

His quiet sense of humor is raw and hysterical.

His hearing may be diminished but he always hears us when we call.

He would get the certificate for “Best Eater.” He’s fun to cook for.

George Jones, George Strait, Willie Nelson and many other country singers will never know the passion of this fan. He forced me to listen to country music as a child and now I find myself comparing songs with him. Many of our father/daughter dates have been country music concerts.

Almost 45 years ago, Paul Riley met a little girl. She had colic and frog legs. She often spent time trying his patience. To this day, she takes him for granted. But, at least she knows it.

My father did not grow up with a great father. I did.

Please Stand Up Straight

My parents were pretty big on posture. In my years of ballet, I learned that you can't perform any of the steps without your spine in alignment. As a result, I prefer straight-back chairs. I rarely recline on a plane. The seat position in my car could be classified as military straight.

I continue to torture the baby. He's an adult (sort of) and he probably doesn't appreciate my poking. To his credit, he does respond.

There seems to be an inordinate amount of young people who have settled into slumping. They also like to wear hoodie sweatshirts with the hood up -- regardless of the weather. I can't guess if they're cold, trying to be incognito or getting ready to rob a convenience store. Since we lost the Captain and his Unabomber costume, I no longer allow this in my house. Again, we bent the rules for the Captain and allowed him to wear a baseball cap in the house. Those days are over; the husband goes a little crazy over this one.

Yes, I am sounding like an oldie. Yes, these are minor things in the general scheme of things. But, if we start with the little things and take it one step at a time, maybe the bigger things won't seem so difficult.

Get that Needle Away from Me

The Belle was a nurse. Needles were a constant companion in her life. Her only fear of needles was that the incompetent nurse or tech would stab her repeatedly trying to find a viable vein. We used to joke that the only person we could trust was the nurse in our doctor's office. She was a miracle worker when it came to finding a vein for the Belle.

I'm thinking of the Belle today because it seems to be a medical week. A girlfriend had a procedure yesterday. When they use words like "punch" or "puncture," I want to run. She's brave and stuck it out. When they use the word "biopsy," I want to run like the wind.

I had a teensy procedure this morning. When I asked my doctor, "Will it hurt?" She said "Yes, but not much." If the Belle were here, she would've insisted on going with me and that's one more battle we would have endured.

Hangdog never went to the doctor without her at his side. Of course, he could not drive himself. Even if the husband or I took him, she went along.

Their dentist did this really cool thing. He would schedule side-by-side appointments so the Belle and the Captain could get their cleanings and exams at the same time. Isn't is nice when professional people are accommodating?

Our primary care physician (saint-in-training) would often examine them at home or fit them in for a last minute office visit. He also held our hands and guided us through the maze of hospitals, hospice, VA care, assisted living and more.

That little needle headed my way isn't quite the problem it used to be.

Abusive Behavior

I've never been an abused child. As I've told you, my childhood was pretty idyllic. We had our struggles and our arguments but I never felt threatened or abused. Is this no longer the norm?

I've never been physically abused as an adult but I've had some pretty mean things said to me. The experts say verbal abuse is more common and more damaging than physical abuse. This is a weird analogy but in my mind, it's kind of like rape. It's not about the act or the words, it's exerting power over another person. I've never felt threatened and I've never felt powerless. If words are the weapon, I'll sling back.

The Belle could make a snarly face and the occasional jab would come out of her mouth. But, she lived her life treating her husband, children, grandchildren and friends with respect. A raised voice or a "gotcha" comment was not her aspiration. Even in their tired and scary moments, the Captain treated her with respect.

She earned it.

I watch the news and I read multiple papers. Some of the stories turn my stomach. Abused children, abandoned and neglected children, women who live their lives in fear of their partners, women who leave only to be stalked and killed.

I often joke about the husband thinking he's the boss of me. Like all good jokes, there's a grain of truth there. But. I do not ever fear for my safety. I have never worried about him hurting one of the children. I'm pretty sure his latest fantasy is to take a harsher line with the maniac dog. That's probably a worthy goal and he would not harm her.

Power over another person has never been my goal. I have a hard enough time controlling me.

Abuse is pervasive. I'm convinced it gets embedded in your mind and possibly your DNA. When someone breaks the cycle, I'm impressed. When someone chooses a different path, it takes courage and will power. I know a few people who have done this and I admire them.

Ding -- Coming Home

We forgot the watch. We wanted to hit the button in his honor during our trip.

Today we had the funeral and burial service for the Captain, my beloved Hangdog. (You know how people put stupid nicknames in the obituaries? I had a temptation to put "Hangdog" in his but reason prevailed.)

He had, and now we have, the most obnoxious watch ever made. You push a button on the side and there's a very loud ding and then it announces the time. This could be a useful tool but when you're trapped in a car, a room or a city where he pushes the button every 60 seconds, it can get be bothersome.

It's Good Friday. I am a creature of habit. I should have attended services today with my friends. Instead, I am in a hotel in Mississippi. But, Good Friday services still happened.

I watched four brothers hold each other and share tears and memories. Good Friday. I watched grandsons serve as pallbearers and then toss frisbees and balls in the hotel parking lot. I watched several generations of the Belle's family come to honor her husband. Good Friday.

There's no need for any of these contraptions in heaven but I have this vision of him. He's hitting the button on the annoying watch and yelling, "Honey! Time for me to be home."

The Only Man I Love

One of my teenage friends recently said to me, "He's the only man I love."

After I stopped rolling my eyes and holding my side, I explained my perspective: You will love many men.

If you're lucky, your first male love was and continues to be your father.

Grandfathers make some pretty great loves. Plus, they let you get away with a lot.
I've never had a brother but I've always wanted one and I understand their love is a bond that no one should mess with.
Uncles are one of life's greatest gifts.
Male friends will protect and honor you.
You never know when a brother-in-law will turn out to save you.
You will have a first love, maybe some middle loves and hopefully, a forever love.
Someday you might have a son. Tell me then about only loving one man.

The Belle had four sons and loved them all with a passion. She also loved the Captain. Movies and books simplify love and life. It's not simple; it's extremely messy. But love abounds and like her, I love a lot of men.

The Old Man and The Sea

I am no Hemmingway. But, I do know and love an old man. He has a lot of experience with the sea.

Did you know that fire can still surround you even if you're under water? The Captain experienced this being shot down during WWII. (I think the Belle was his reward.)

Just in case anyone is confused about how young these men and women are when we send them off to defend our country, meet the Captain.