I REMEMBER YOU SO CLEARLY RUTH

When I was a kid, heaven was only a mile and a half away.  It was at my Aunt Ruth’s house.  I liked going there and when I got old enough, maybe twelve years old, I walked there often. 

I remember running down Maywood Street from the Columbus Park area of the city I lived in, Worcester Massachusetts.  By the time I got to Park Avenue, I’d run, walk, run and walk.  I would turn up Austin Street to my favorite house.  By then I always had my second wind and ran up the long outside stairway to the second floor.

I knocked at the door with so much anticipation.  The door would finally open and usually my beautiful Auntie Ruth would be standing there.  She always said, “Hi darling, did you walk?”  I’d say, “Yes Auntie.”  She would take a deep breath and blurt out, “Oh my god, what a kid.”  She always made me feel so proud of myself.

My Uncle Harold would be standing near-by smiling.  I can see him now in my mind.  He always had a sleeveless tee shirt on and was so handsome.  My cousin Harold, whom they called, young Harold, was in the service at the time.  I hardly ever saw him.  My little cousin Joan was always home and so cute.  My cousin Ronnie would always be in his room listening to his and my favorite singer, Mario Lanza who was a great tenor.  Patsy was always painting her nails or pondering over her hope chest.  In those days young girls saved things for their future marriages.  Patsy was so cool and I idolized her.  Aunt Ruth was the heart of the home.  She was very good to me and would let me stay overnight any time I wanted to when I got the O.K. from my parents.

One particular day that I remember crystal clear was, I had just arrived and called my mother to tell her I got there O.K..  Aunt Ruth got on the phone to talk.  Meanwhile, Patsy interrupted her mother to ask if I could stay overnight.  We listened for the answer, trying not to giggle.  Auntie asked the big question and the answer was, “Yes.”

Patsy and I dreamed up at least twenty plans without saying a word.  I heard auntie say, “But Winnie, I just remembered, we are having horse meat for supper tonight.  I don’t think Jean will eat that.”  The laughing and my heart stopped.  Then I heard my aunt say, “Winnie, I know what I’ll do.  I have enough hamburger, she can have that.  I perked up again, yelping, “Yes, yes, I’ll eat the hamburger.”  So the deal was on and I cleaned my plate that night.

While writing this memory, I can’t help but re-think the hamburger.  I wonder if? – If? – No. No, of course not.

10.

One day, years later after I had children, I remember a scene in my mother’s kitchen.  Aunt Ruth gave me a scolding.  My mother was trying to give me gas money to make sure I got home to my family without running out of gas. I said, “Mom, I don’t need it.”  My mother said she would feel much better if I took it.  I came back again with, “Really mom, I’m all set.”

With that, my aunt walked right up to me, under my chin.  She was so cute and short and tough.  She made me have to use every bit of strength not to laugh.  She was reaching up and pushing her finger into my chest, holding it there.  Did I mention what beautiful nails she had, that were pointy and hard?  She was invading my personal space, BIG TIME… Finally the words came.  Now she was putting her point across by stabbing with her pointer finger. “Now you listen to me.  Your mother wants you to take that money, now, YOU TAKE IT.”  I called out to the other room where my mother had gone to get the money.  “Mom, I’ll take the money.”  As I was leaving for the second time, Aunt Ruth stood on her tippy toes to whisper, “See darling, now she’s happy.”

Years later, my aunt was in a nursing home with Alzheimer disease.  My mother and I visited her as often as we could.  We had a chance to hug her and kiss her and got a lot of love back.  Mom and I always felt so good by the time we left.  We would go to comfort Ruth and we ended up having the comfort.

One particular evening at the nursing home, I fed my aunt ice cream.  She started falling asleep so I transferred her to the bed and made her nice and comfy and warm under her afghan.  Her eyes closed, so I began looking over her head at family pictures on the wall.  I happened to look down and Ruth was looking up at me.  It took me by surprise when she said, “thank you.”  I was dumbfounded.  I put my arms deeply around her and told her how much I loved her.  It was like she didn’t have any sickness at all at that moment.

My aunt is gone now.  I will never forget what a caring, generous, kind, friendly, uplifting and respectful woman she was.

Wherever she went, she crocheted afghans, mittens, hats, scarves, vests, buntings, booties and sweaters.  She made us all something.  While she was crocheting, she would teach anyone who showed interest.  She made us all feel happy for whoever the lucky recipient was of the work she was doing.

No one will ever know that she was the type who loved us all so much, that she gave each of us, at one time or another, her last mint, gum, tea bag, piece of cake, pork chop, coffee, egg or aspirin.  I would have loved to have seen what would happen if we said, “no.”

My aunt Ruth is the true meaning of what God meant when he said, “Love one another as I have loved you.”