Maxine Riley

November 18, 1916- August 2, 1994

Just a little more insight into my grandmother, Maxine. Maxine died on my friend, Roxanne's, birthday. Three years later, my Riley made his way into the world on what would have been her 81st birthday. That is so precious to me. The following is a portion of what was read at her funeral. Just so you can get a glimpse of Maxine.

written by Don Glover, delivered at Maxine's funeral

No word, including this one, can do justice to Maxine Riley, who was a remarkable woman by any standards. Not that her name was bandied about in the news or flashed on to a silver screen; not that she captured the imagination of a generation in the grand manner, say, of an Eleanor Roosevelt or a Margaret Thatcher. No, not that.

From a small town in Oklahoma, our Maxine married a Max, also from a small town in Oklahoma. They had a son, whom they named Max and called Mike; and of him they were extremely proud. This Maxine loved God, her household, the church, and a host of others throughout the community.

And we all loved Maxine. We also liked her. For a hundred reasons, not least because she was wonderfully candid. She would say things you wanted to say but couldn't -- or wouldn't. Her quick tongue occasionally got her into light trouble, but it was part of her charm. Her resonant voice was melodious, rhythmic, dramatic. She had a way of speaking that captured your attention, made you smile, and not infrequently had you laughing. Not only could Maxine Riley "rejoice with those who rejoice," she could also "weep with those who weep."

There were the small touches: For two generations she was known at the Forsythe Avenue Church of Christ as the "Gum Lady". Kids flocked to her side for the goodies that rose from her magic purse.

She was an inveterate letter writer. Many of us, at one time or another, in sickness, in discouragement, in success, and sometimes for no immediately obvious reason, have received from Maxine a handwritten note; a message written in ink perfumed with love, a treasure house of beautiful words, not soon forgotten.

In a world in which good taste is disappearing, Maxine was the epitome of class: Not alone in her dress, which was impeccable; Not alone in the way she wore her hair, with every strand in it's ordained place; Not alone in that elusive thing called "style" which she elegantly projected. No, she was a classy woman because she had a heart. A good, generous, godly heart.

Her beauty, like that of the godly woman of Proverbs 31, reflected her respect for the Lord and his ways. Pound for delicate pound she had few if any rivals. It was our gift to know her, to be moved by her, to have our world enriched by hers. Memories flood our souls. Were there time, each of us could tell his own story of our dear sister and friend.