Maxine

I commented on Mike Cope's blog today about a philosophy my late grandmother, Maxine Riley, had in life: "If only one of us can be happy, it may as well be me."

Definitely not your typical grandmother-ly advice. But Maxine Riley was not your typical grandmother.

Later today, my sister-in-law, who I don't believe ever met my grandmother, emailed me saying that she and my brother were having a conversation that included Maxine and Ve wanted to know my perception of my grandmother as compared with my brother's.

Maxine seems to be on everyone's mind today!

And, yes, that is precisely what I called her -- and, yes, she knew that and, no, it didn't seem to bother her. It came about as a joke about my poor grandfather, Max (yes, those were both of their real names -- Max and Maxine). Max lived and breathed to take care of my grandmother and make her life more comfortable. And I believe there were moments that she appreciated it. But frequently she would say, "Oh, Maaaax. . ." a phrase that typing cannot do justice to her southern, gravelly drawl, that included a hint of a whine. So eventually my Poppa became Max to me. So, naturally, my Nonna became Maxine.

In reading over this, I guess Maxine brings to mind the rough, old woman on the Hallmark cards. Those actually aren't too far off of my grandmother's philosophy in life, but Maxine would not have been caught dead in sweatpants or a t-shirt.

Later I will post what was beautifully spoken at her funeral. Don Glover, who preached at the church where I grew up for 30+ years, captured the things we all loved about Maxine.

A few of the things that I suppose I have inherited from Maxine:

• Speak what is on your mind! Life is too short for dancing around it. My grandparents were definitely "the country club crowd" and I think Maxine's candidness was shocking and amusing to most of their friends there.
• Life is also entirely too short to be taken seriously. While Maxine (with her candid words) hurt my feelings on a few occasions, I mainly remember her giggle. She found humor in almost every situation. Me too, Maxine.

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.

Circle Up!

In the wee hours of this morning, resting peacefully with only a care nurse for company, my Poppa Max laughed out loud, then he was gone. I like to think that he laughed at the sight of my grandmother, Maxine, who was clapping her hands with glee as he joined her in the circle around the throne. I am so thankful he is finally pain free. I am so sad I will never hear his voice this side of the circle. He was quite a man. Poppa Max, grab Maxine's hand, twirl a dance, circle up and worship Him!

Online obituary.

Memories of Poppa Max

I mentioned earlier that I have a list of memories of Poppa Max. This came about when an email from home in late August let me realize that I would not see my Poppa Max this side of heaven. Considering we had a long weekend, it would have been physically possible to go see him, but for a million different reasons, we chose not to.

Obviously, that was a difficult decision for me, and my very wise friend, Donna, encouraged me to spend the weekend resting from my week at school (that seemed to be the general consensus from my teacher friends!) and sharing memories of my Poppa Max with my children. What a great idea, and beautiful way to honor his life.

So I spent that weekend remembering Poppa Max (I haven't yet shared my memories with my kids -- they aren't sticking around a lot these days!) and smiling so much at what I remember. So, join me if you wish, in remembering my Poppa Max. Many of these memories include my grandmother, Maxine, of course. They were each other's lives for 54 years -- and 24 years of my life.

In no certain order, I remember:

• Wednesday night runs after church to the 7-11 down the street. Mom and dad would talk after church while we loaded up on one candy, one icee, and one comic book. I think, at the time, all of that was $1. AND there were small icees -- maybe 8-10 oz. Those don't exist anymore. We made the 7-11 run every Wednesday night until he had his heart attack in 1980? 1982? and was unable to come to church for a while.



• The ONE time I remember him being angry with me. (It was on Speed Ave. -- when did they move away?) I couldn't have been anymore than 4 or 5. I have NO idea what I did (I'm sure I was being a complete turkey) but I remember the tone of his voice and my heart being completely broken that I would make him angry. I only remember him angry one other time in my life -- and it was when someone had upset Maxine.



• INCESSANT whistling, humming, made-up lyrics singing, and change-jingling. It was so constant, I don't think it was nervous -- I think of it as happy noises. Though it did drive me cuckoo on more than one occasion.



• His booming bass voice singing in church while small children around us stared in open-mouthed amazement and my grandmother rolled her eyes and would lean to me and say, "He is SO loud." I'd trade anything in the world to hear him one more time.



• More singing -- few people are privileged enough to attend their grandfather's third wedding, but I did. And at the reception he all but took over the microphone and made it his own little karaoke -- when else can you do that but your third wedding when you're 84?



• Spending Christmas Eves together while he called "little friends" from church as Santa. "Have you been a good girl? Are you going to go to bed on time tonight?" Again, his tremendous bass voice was quite convincing.



• The thanksgiving not too terribly long ago that he spent playing hide and seek with the kids. Not his own kids, not even his own grandkids, or great grand-kids. They were my cousins (no blood relation to him) children and I, personally, was way too old to be playing hide-and-seek -- so HE really was.



• The way he kissed my grandmother 'hello' when he came in from playing golf -- which he did several times a week until his body made it too painful for him.
• Always a Christmas gift for Mitchell, a downs' syndrome gentleman at our church, under the tree.



• His prayer over me and my precious husband at our wedding (gracious, I'm going to cry now!) "This Troy, who has captured our young Sarah's heart..." sweet, sweet Max.



• The day he met my Riley for the first time. One of my favorite pictures of both of them.



• How much Ashley (same day) ADORED him and loved him as a playmate. (I'm pretty sure he's either whistling is singing, "Doody, doo-doo,..." in this picture).



• I remember few specific times since there were so many, but a "happy" (generous check) from him at just the right time. He is/was all about generosity. He worked hard to get where he is financially, but he has no qualms with sharing what God has blessed him with.

Last week as we remembered and celebrated his life, I learned some new stories and was reminded of old ones. The gentleman that led us in singing during the funeral led "Just a Closer Walk With Thee" and pointed out that it was one of my grandfather's favorites (I had forgotten that). He also mentioned that in Max's life, it was evident that he walked closely with Jesus on a regular basis, so we should all learn from the fact that his constant prayer was to continue walking closer and closer to Jesus. And now that his victory is won, he is walking side by side with Jesus.

What a blessing to have such a legacy in my family tree. I am blessed beyond measure.

3 Resolutions + a freeby

First, I have to say it like my grandmother, Maxine, would have, "HAPpyyyy New Year!!" I can't ever hear it or say it without thinking of her. Every New Year's Eve in my childhood memory, my brother and I spent the night at Max and Maxine's. They supplied streamers, noise makers, and balloons and Kevin and I would decorate the room (in secret -- or, better yet, just to get us out of their hair). Tremendous fun, tremendous noise, tremendous memories.

Doesn't anyone think the Day of the Blog is over yet? I'm thinkin' the Day of THIS Blog is in its sunset...

Troy and I went to not-our-usual church Sunday morning. Heard a FABULOUS New Year's sermon. It wasn't even that congregation's regular preacher -- he had been on staff at that church, then moved away for one job, and was starting another this week. Anyway, he spoke of a few resolutions he would like to keep in the New Year. I think I shall adopt them as my own. What do you think?

1) I will remember with wonder and awe all the times God has been faithful since my childhood.
2) I will speak to God more and more of His greatness so that it leaves no room for murmuring.
3)I will tell the story of His salvation the rest of my life.

And for the freeby -- (if you were one of the blessed recipients of my Christmas letter, you already have heard this): in December I was struck by Ephesians 4:1: "As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received." and then a little later: "And we pray this in order that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and may please him in every way;" Colossians 1:10a

So, for me, I will try those three, plus the freeby:
4)I will live a life worthy of the calling I have received, worthy of the Lord so that I may please him in every way.

Christmas Memories

Last year when I wrote about celebrating Christmas in honor of my Poppa Max, who we lost in October of 2007, I mentioned his efforts to keep the magic of Christmas alive for little ones. The Christmas before that (2006), I was really stumped about what to give Poppa Max for Christmas. Here was a 90-year-old man, basically house-bound, and medication made it all but impossible for him to follow the plot of a movie or book. I did all I know to do: I wrote something for him -- I told him how much memories of Christmas with him meant to me.

Turns out that was Poppa Max's last Christmas this side of heaven. So when we cleaned out his office, I was given the framed essay back. I thought I had shared it here, but don't guess I have:

"As the only daughter of the only child of Max and Maxine Riley, I was never in need. Gifts and attention were both lavished on me to almost embarrassing proportions.

Of course, Christmas was no exception. In the weeks before the big day I would crawl around, through, over, and under the maze of gifts beneath Nonna and Poppa's tree -- but only after I had thoroughly exhausted all enjoyment from the Christmas tree box. Under the tree I would marvel at the growing number of gifts and check to be sure there were plenty for me.

Christmas Eve was most excruciating as Kevin and I pinballed around the house rushing the adults to finish making dinner, finish serving dinner, and then finish eating dinner. The huge pile of gifts had been relocated to under our tree and they were simply begging us to dive in!

One Christmas Eve -- too many ago to count -- Max had a great idea to help me while away the time after dinner. We called some tiny friends from church -- probably some faithful "customers' of Maxine's gum wallet -- and convinced them that Poppa's enormous bass voice could only be the voice of Santa Claus. Some of the children told "Santa" that, yes, they would go to bed on time, and of course they had been good all year. One little one was simply stunned into uncharacteristic silence, so her mother had to chime in, "Santa, Candace is nodding!"

I think we did that for at least two or three years. I don't know why we started or why we stopped, but that is still one of my most precious Christmas memories. I have very vague memories of a few of the many gifts through the years: a Barbie airplane, Merlin, some beanbag chairs -- all long gone. But I'll never forget when Poppa Max joined in and extended the magic of Christmas."