Two memorials in three weeks with the Raffey clan, we had. In 2016, November was a month of mourning. First, on the 5th, we had a funeral mass for my father-in-law Gus, and then on the 26th, a memorial for Dave’s cousin, Peggy. Emotions ran the gamut on that Saturday. Funny and sad were both had at both – Dave’s cousin’s house and at Parker Lakes.
While Dave was fixing the bike Saturday morning, the three of us started talking about the stuff they had at the St. Columbkille thrift store, where John had taken their dad’s clothes. I started telling John about how I had wanted Dave to take a particular pair of pants and before I could even describe them, John knew which ones I was talking about. Dave’s brother scolded me for not taking them or telling him that we wanted them. “No, we really don’t,” Dave kept trying to interject. I won.
On our way to the thrift store, I shared how I could not believe we have never been to it. Gus had talked about this thrift store many times, and although we had been to the K-Mart many times, we had never walked next door to the St. Columbkille thrift store, run by the church Gus loved and served with all of his heart. And then there we were, buying back his pants for five bucks.
I knew I wanted the pants their parents had bought in Hawaii over 40 prior, though I did not realize how much, until I could not find them. (I am still wondering why I wanted them so much.) After scanning the “men’s pants” rack twice, my heart sank a little. And then Dave, a couple isles over, hollered, “Found them,” and I skipped over, excited as all get-out. Right next to them was a fun, colorful pair in my size – I just couldn’t resist. Of course you couldn’t, I’m sure Dave thought. So now we both have a fun pair of pants from the greatest thrift store in Ft. Myers, Florida.
Ironically, Dave’s dad was very much a minimalist, yet he held on to these pants for over 40 years. Here are his parents in 1972, his dad wearing the pants.