Riley

Riley was my mother’s youngest brother, and he was three years younger than me. My mother was the oldest of 12, well 13 if you want to be really accurate. One brother died right after he was born. After my mother was living in assisted living, I would go over and sometimes a plaque would be off the wall. I would ask her why and she would say that, well you know Riley lives upstairs and he took it off and I don’t know why. Well, Riley was guilty of many things while she was there and she never knew why he did those things. The good part is that he was always there visiting her. You need to know that Riley did not live there and he did not do any of those things and I guess I will never know who did, but I find comfort in that she was never lonely. I know she loved Riley. I have picked Riley to talk about today because he got killed by a car two years ago today—his 61st birthday. What a shock to all of us. I could never tell my mother or my dad about Riley. My dad had all of his senses, but he could never accept that my mother didn’t and I knew that he would tell her and I didn’t want her to get upset. I’m sure my mother was surprised when she entered heaven and there stood Riley. I miss my mother, but I’m glad that she’s with her mother, dad, some of her sisters and brothers and of course my Charles. Happy Birthday Riley—you’re missed. DR 11/9/11