By Pattie Mihalik

A long time ago in sociology class we all had to stand in front of the class and give a presentation about a topic we researched.

When one man got up to talk was I dismayed to hear he was making everything up.

I knew that because he was talking about a close friend of mine that burned to death in a hotel fire intentionally set by two firefighters.

There was no reason for him to make up lies because he could easily have gotten the right facts from the extensive newspaper coverage.

It got my ire up because the fire victim was one of my closest friends and my husband was the one asked to identify the body. I was so adversely affected by what happened that from that day forward I stopped covering spot news.

I was upset when the sociology student cited “shoddy construction” as being responsible for the fire, as if any structure could survive being deliberately torched in multiple spots.

During the question-and-answer period I raised my hand and asked the guy making the presentation why he made up so much of his report when he could just as easily have gone on the internet and found the right information.

He mumbled something about not having time for research.

After class the sociology prof told me I shouldn’t have embarrassed the presenter because all he did was tell “a necessary lie.”

I always liked and respected that instructor but I was stunned at his reaction.

“We all tell ourselves necessary lies to keep us going,” the professor said.

Well, there are times in life when a lie might be necessary to spare someone’s feelings (no, you don’t look fat in that dress). But I couldn’t understand why the professor thought research filled with lies should be tolerated.

Many decades after that class I realize I’ve been telling myself at least one big necessary lie for many years.

The lie is that “Someday” is a day on the calendar that will actually arrive.

Someday I’m going to use all the seashells I’ve been saving in my garage. Someday I’m going to make shell craft projects.

Someday I’m going to clean out all my files. I’ve been losing too many important papers. But I keep promising myself that “Someday” I’m going to clear out old papers no longer needed and better organize what’s important.

I know I’m making things harder for my daughters after I pass on if I don’t get around to it Someday.

Someday I’m going to give my house the deep cleaning I’ve been promising to do.

Back East, I religiously did spring house cleaning, a coal region ritual that my mother made into a commandment.

In my mother’s house, before we got wall-to-wall carpeting, during spring cleaning we took the area rugs outside and beat them with a special brush.

Does anyone do that anymore?

Every Thursday when I lived at home my job was to brush down every piece of furniture.

See, my mom didn’t wait for “Someday” to get things done.

She had a set day for every housecleaning job and never deviated from her set routine.

I recall the time when she was sick enough to have the doctor visit. (Remember when doctors still made house calls?) But when he said she most likely had pneumonia and needed to go to the hospital, she said she couldn’t go until she finished cleaning the kitchen. She always cleaned the kitchen on Friday.

Every spring I always followed her example and gave my entire house a deep cleaning. When I moved to Florida I moved spring housecleaning onto my Someday calendar.

But I am keeping one promise to myself about my cleaning routine. When I was living in Pennsylvania I made a promise that every time it snowed I would clean out at least one area - one closet, one dresser or one shelf.

We had a lot of snowstorms the year I moved, so when it was time to pack for Florida most of the clearing out was done.

I’m still keeping that promise in Florida: I will clean a closet any time it snows. Or, when it’s Someday. Which ever comes first.

Every now and then I do make an all-out effort to clean out the closet in my den. When I moved here 12 years ago I stacked the things I couldn’t part with in those deep closets.

Here’s what I learned. It’s almost impossible to get past the shelves with my photo albums and favorite family photos.

I’ll pick up a precious photo of my daughters when they were young and then I’ll ooooh and aaah my way into the past. When I find an especially compelling old photo I can’t resist sending a copy to my daughters.

There are so many memories I forget until old photos bring the past to mind. While it’s fun to relive happy times that exist now only in memory, it’s also a time trap.

I get caught up in those memories and put aside my plan to clean out the shelves. But I will do it Someday, I tell myself.

The isolation and idleness brought on by the coronavirus should give me plenty of time to do some of the things I don’t get around to doing.

I will.

Someday.

Contact Pattie Mihalik at newsgirl@comcast.net.