My Aunt Cleo Retires

Thanks to my cousin Kevan, our self-declared family chronologer and geneologist, who keeps us in the loop on important happenings in the family, we were able to follow the events around Aunt Cleo's retirement, from her utter dread (she wanted to drop dead in the middle of her job, as Kevan said, her hair perfectly done, her scarf just so, and of course, in her signature 5-inch heels) (I think actually once Cleo hit 85 her heel height dropped three inches) to her gradual acceptance and welcoming of a new chapter of her life opening up.

No one in our family actually thought Cleo would retire. We did think she would die doing something she absolutely loved, and even the joke went around the family that we would all know Hell had frozen over the day Cleo retired.

Alas, worry about the future of your soul no more. Hell has frozen over. Cleo has retired and is taking a day off. After 73 years. Her parting gift from Macy's? A framed copy of her application from when she was sixteen, and a framed copy of her letter of recommendation from her grandfather, Joseph Hutchinson.


There are many ways that Cleo is an icon in our family: her red hair, her heels, her short skirts, her refusal to discuss her age. Some have thought she was a bit childish to not want to talk about her age, but I have to say as I grow older, I totally get it. That if you're doing what you love and have a life you love, your age doesn't matter and it doesn't describe who you are - especially if you can pull off a mini skirt and heels. Her age has never been relevant to who she is. Just an example, ten years ago at a family wedding, we all danced until one in the morning, and Cleo was the last one standing. She had danced us all under the table.


I also admire her because she is unabashedly herself and always has been. When I graduated from high school, she pulled me aside to give me her view of life: your hair could never be too red (and my natural red could use some highlighting, she pointed out in her way), too thin, or too rich. She also told me, that those who got me, got me, and those who didn't didn't and to forget the rest. At Fyo's baby shower, she came up to me with tears in her eyes and said honestly, "For the life of me, I can't remember your son's first name, but I love that his middle name [Harrison] was my dad's. It's so beautiful." And then she turned around and flirted with my husband.

She's also an icon as she is a rare bird of her generation, in that she didn't see what she wanted, so she blazed her own trail and created her own position.

Style and wardrobe consultants that are all the rage these days? Yeah, she invented that. And she did it in Portland, Oregon, which isn't exactly known for its fashion. We should all be grateful for her services and should even consider her a public servant given the usual fashion in Portland. The Oregonian wrote a fantastic article on her, click here for the ariticle on the woman who was so determined to wear silk through the Depression, that she got herself a job (she was never one to let circumstances like an economic slump to get in her way.)

I think we should all be so lucky, to have something we love doing so much, that we never want to quit. What a gift of a life-