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Dec 22

The Empty Chair

When I was little, my dad had bought an old dump truck and tractor, ready to start his next adventure of hauling sand and gravel to unknown destinations. The truck was old and bounced around more than any roller coaster I had ever been on. But oh did it have some power behind it, or maybe that was just the man behind the wheel that I am remembering, my father. Dad soon added some decal lettering onto the side of the truck using stencil and some spray paint to emphasize his name and contact information. My mother then went and took the next step to have business cards made up with my father’s name, adding to the bottom of the cards “and daughter Riley.” Even though it was my father’s new adventure, it soon became my own also. I would eagerly jump into that old truck and head down the to gravel pit with him, and then quickly mount onto the old tractor to start loading up our haul.

When dad had bought the truck, there was only the driver seat. Where a passenger seat would normally go, there sat a void, the seat had long since been removed before the sell of the truck. My father thought the most logical answer to this issue would be to throw an old folding lawn chair into its place. This chair was the kind that had two inch strips of the colors green and white, that were woven in and out of one another, and often had loose strings that would poke into you and make you feel that you were sitting on a pin cushion rather than a chair. I loved this chair, that is until dad would turn a corner or hit a large bump in the road, then the chair would get a mind of its own and travel around the cab of the truck. I suppose a seat belt would have helped this issue, but dad never mentioned wearing one. Come to think of it, I am not sure the old truck even had one. It is amazing how in some circumstances that could have put you in danger, you felt so safe just because of the person you sat next to.

That old truck and tractor would eventually be sold, but not before my father had time to give all of his grand-kids rides in the truck and then in the bucket of the old tractor. I am not sure who those cherished moments meant more to, the kids, or to dad. I often think back to that old chair and the memories that it held, and also to the old recliner that had become a favorite of my fathers. Empty chairs. I lost my father when I was eleven, so there were not a lot of years that I could hold on to. But the few that I had, they were my everything.

Sometimes in life we find ourselves surrounded by empty chairs. The chairs may even still be occupied, maybe by someone that we once loved, or even someone we are still trying to find reasons to love. The chair, however, is empty. There sits a void, you can feel it in the air and the distance between you. Sometimes, the ride even feels a little bit bumpy, but you still search for that little bit of happiness in the travel. Other times, you look at that empty chair and long for what is gone, what you can never get back again, and you know it is time to just let it go.

When you get to the end of your journey and look back on your life, are you going to mourn for the empty chair? Or are you going to look at the chair next to you and feel comfort, security, companionship, growth, and most importantly-love. Sometimes your empty chair might be the exact chair someone else needs to complete their set. And maybe, just maybe, your next chair is out there searching for its match but you only have one spot, and it is already taken by the piece you are trying so hard not to let go of….

Dec 17

Reggie the Raccoon

It was Christmas 1983 and I was at the wonderful age of 11, when I received my pet stuffed raccoon, which quickly became my best friend. Reggie was not much of a talker, but was really a wonderful listener to my ongoing conversations that I would force him to endure. He would just sit next to me on the couch, all the while being very attentive as I would share with him about my day at school.

Reggie would sleep with me every night, as I would snuggle him in close to my heart and whisper in my little girl voice, “I love you,” as my eyes would flutter shut and I would enter into mystical places that only our dreams can take us. My comforter would always be on the outside of the bed, facing the door, and ready to leap his 3 pounds of stuffed fur at anything that was to walk through that door and cause either of us to become endangered species.

Thoughts of Reggie bring back so many smiles, as I look back on those years that he would become a treasured presence in my life. We were inseparable, that little raccoon and I. We would go shopping, to the movies, outside to play, to school, and quite often take some wonderful naps together. He understood the fact that I never felt accepted by my peers, and I understood his need to always keep me on my toes, even though he would often find himself doing quite the opposite.

My father, which would often spend most of his time either at work or the bar, always found a way to connect his little girl to him through this adorable little furry creature. I would walk out of the room for a moment, only to come back and find Reggie standing on his head. I would quickly upright him so that he would not get a headache, and offer him my sincerest apologies. Then a short while later when I would leave the room again, Reggie would find himself yet again upside down. My father would be sitting over in his recliner, watching his favorite television program, and fighting back that little smirk at the corner of his lips that I had grown to love. Reggie was soon to endure many months of seeing the world upside down as this game would play out between my father and I.

Reggie had no idea what an instrumental part he was going to play in my life. He now sleeps very comfortably tucked away in a Rubbermaid tote in my basement. However, he still comes out for some affection on occasion when I want to hold him close, and to remember those few moments of childhood when my father was still here with us. My father had passed away in early 1984, so my relationship with Reggie became even stronger as I held tightly to that little raccoon every night, hoping to smell just the slightest hint of my fathers cologne that may have been left from his flipping my little furry friend on his head. Reggie soon was to comfort many tears, eagerly soaking them into his own stuffing where they would find refuge until they were able to disintegrate. My tears remained a part of Reggie, just as he still remains a part of me.

There will be times in our lives that we find our world turning upside down, but we must never fear what lies before us. There is always someone in the next room over, that will soon be there to flip everything back to its rightful place for you. Sometimes seeing the world from a different perspective, can allow you to see things a whole lot differently when you are upright once again.

Oct 22

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Be the change

It seems that almost on a daily basis, we wander through this world finding ourselves being critical of one another. Sure, you may sit back and deny that fact and offer up a quick “no, not me”. But if we search deep within ourselves, you will have no choice but to admit your own vulnerability, that we are indeed not as kind and humble as we know that we should be.

How often have we stood in line at a grocery store, only to find ourselves being critical of the slow cashier before us? How often have we sat behind someone at a stop light, eagerly waiting for them to realize the light had turned green? How often have we become irritated with a terrible waitress at the restaurant? How often have we looked at a couple and thought “they” could do better? How often have we lost patience with the elderly? How often has our beloved family pet became so irritating that we start to mistreat them? How often are we short with people, eager to express our own thoughts, but not so eager to hear theirs? How often have we flew into the closest parking spot, ignoring the person that was waiting for that particular one? How often have we walked through a door and not held it open for the next person?

Every day we are judging one another, without ever knowing that other persons story. The slow cashier may be a single mother who has just worked a double shift to provide for infant daughter. The person at the stop light may have been glancing over at some flowers along the edge of the road, remembering that his wife who had just passed, those were her favorites. The terrible waitress at the restaurant may have just found out that she has cancer, and is doing her best to make it through the end of her shift so that she can get over to see her doctor to talk about her options. That woman that you looked at and wondered “she could do better” may have been previously married to an abuser, and this man treats her like a queen (after all, looks are only skin deep). That elderly lady you were just short with because she walked so slow down the grocery isle, may have spent her entire life volunteering in the elementary schools and at one point in time had helped you tie your shoe before you learned how to do it yourself. That family pet you just yelled at and locked outside because it went to the bathroom on your floor, may have just developed a medical condition that you are too busy to notice, and now cannot control its own bladder. That person that was just talking to you, the one that was trying to express to you how they feel, may have been the one that attempted suicide the night before, but you were too busy trying to be heard to let them know they were loved. That person waiting for the parking spot may have had surgery a few days prior and was in very intense pain, they just needed to park as close as they could to do the door so they could go in and get their medication. That door you just walked through and did not hold open for the next person, just told them that you were too busy seeing yourself to see anyone else.

We all sit back watching our television, scrolling through our social media, or listening to our coworkers and friends talk. We sit and think to ourselves about the downfall of our society and that something needs to change. You are absolutely correct, something does! What we fail to realize is that if we want to change the world, we need to start by changing ourselves. We need to BE the change.

Oct 3

My First Blog Post

We go through doors, and what we find on the other side is the person we’ve become.

— John Ortbert

This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.

Oct 3

Hello everyone, my name is Riley Wells.

For without the trials, I would have never faced my tears, nor found my triumph.

My journey is one that has taken me down a path of one broken road after another. Starting from the time I was a child, I endured every pain imaginable: sexual abuse, loss of my father, rape, trafficked, physical abuse, and much more. I found myself in a depression so dark that I thought I could never come back from it. However, after a long journey through healing and once again finding my voice, I decided to finally tell my story through my book “The Shattered Mirror”.