Old House Handyman: Live life to its fullest and listen with your full attention, a sister lesson
She was two years younger than me and three years older than our sister Robyn. She left this world in December for heavenly realms after a valiant battle with multiple myeloma. She is now free of a body that had been wracked with the pain of cancer.
We gathered recently to celebrate her life and scatter her ashes, as she requested, on the pasture of our family farm in northeastern Ohio — within view of the hilltop cemetery where our ancestors who settled on that land more than 200 years ago are buried.
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Valerie marched to the tune of her own drum, and as one speaker at her memorial put it, 'For those of us with little personality, she showed us what it meant to have a lot of it.'
She was not brash or boastful, by any means. She was humble and empathetic — always concerned about others before herself. In fact, as much as she would have enjoyed being surrounded by her family on the family farm that day, she would have been embarrassed that we were making such a fuss over her.
Valerie loved music, loved the outdoors, loved to cook and loved working with wood and took great satisfaction in fixing all manner of things — from furniture to pickup trucks and tractors.
We Miller kids grew up in a home with frugal parents who taught us by example that you don't toss a pair of pants if you can mend them — and you always try to mend them. The same went for furniture, radios, motorcycles, cars, tools and many other things. Attempt repairs, and don't give up until you've made several attempts.
She and her wife, Marylynne — along with my bride, mother and other strong women — have been inspirations to our three daughters on many levels. One for which I am grateful is that these strong women have helped teach our daughters to be fearless — to believe in themselves, know that they have the skills to fix something or that they have the smarts to learn how to fix it.
I shared during her memorial service that Valerie was better at so many things in life than many of the rest of us, including me, because she was relentless about seeking out details about what makes people and things tick, and even more because she was such a good listener.
On many occasions, I have done what my wife and three daughters describe as 'man looking' at assembly instructions — or half listening when one of them is reading instructions to me. As a result, I sometimes stumble and must repeat steps in the process. Or worse, I end up screwing up a part of a project and wallowing in frustration.
Valerie wasn't perfect, but she was a lot closer to it more often than many others because she really listened to the experts she sought out for advice.
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Valerie was very curious about just about everything. She wanted to know what made people tick and why or how they did what they did. She was very good at 'interviewing' people — just holding a conversation with someone and gently asking probing questions.
She began to perfect that art of the conversation as a young child, when one of our great aunts once famously told our mom, 'I don't like talking with your daughter! She gets me to tell her things I'd never tell anyone.'
Valerie asked because she cared. She was an incredibly empathetic person. But being empathetic and caring doesn't mean she was a pushover. Not by a longshot. She could put a person in his or her place, or call out bad behavior in a way that a person would feel a sting but also feel good about themselves.
That's what made her such a good parole officer for many years in Oregon. The lawbreakers who reported to her knew she cared, but they also knew she'd find out if they screwed up and she'd hold them accountable — even as she held their hands.
'You know, I'm so sorry you did this to yourself,' she once told a parolee who messed up and was headed back to jail days before that person's parole was scheduled to end.
Valerie celebrated the small things in life — like sitting on the front porch with me during a rainstorm when we were little kids hiding under blankets and peeking out at the frightening lightning bolts, or sitting on her front porch with me early one morning last summer as we watched the sun come up and wondered if the coyote that roamed her neighborhood would show up.
The coyote showed up one morning — while I was in the house getting a coffee refill — and Valerie said it sauntered by and gave her a look. I was bummed that I missed it.
Nearly a year later, when Dad and I were in Portland, Oregon, to bring some of Valerie's things back to Ohio, I sat on the front porch with a cup of coffee — missing Valerie and our conversations.
And just then, the coyote sauntered by and gave me a look.
A coincidence? Or was it a sign? As in, 'I see you brother. Thanks for stopping by.'
Hard to say. But I know this: Valerie saw things that others missed, she learned well because she listened so intently, and she was a bright light in many lives.
Alan D. Miller is a former Dispatch editor who teaches journalism at Denison University and writes about old house repair and historic preservation based on personal experiences and questions from readers.
youroldhouse1@gmail.com
@youroldhouse
This article originally appeared on The Columbus Dispatch: Remembering a sister by living life to the fullest
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