I met her for the first time in 1981---my husband's Aunt Ruth...who had once been married to his Uncle Jack. Ruth Wilson was an interesting woman---who had lived an unusual life, that nothing could have prepared her for. Her first words, after hello were "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what size bra do you wear?"
Not your usual light chit chat.
But Ruth was...truly unique.
When World War Two hit, she joined the Army Nurses---and served for most of it on the Hospital Ships that made their way back and forth across the Atlantic. The ships were marked---but that was not promise of safe passage. The German Fighter planes were not inclined to respect their purpose---nor were the mines that littered the shipping lanes. Her duty was both dangerous, and heart breaking---but she undertook it. Staying home and "doing her bit" as most women did back then just wasn't enough for her.
So Ruth did her service. She did not see her husband during the war---though twice they almost met. It wasn't in the cards---but I have the account he wrote to his mother, about charging back and forth across France, trying to meet her boat. Ruth understood about honor, and duty. When the war ended, she made it home---to welcome her hero, as so many other wives did. In short order, she had their first child---and then a second. She tried to be a wife, and mother, as was expected of her generation...but...the War had changed Jack.
What she did not know---and did not learn for years, was that Jack had been recruited to the OSS during the war...and when it became the CIA, he was in their employ. She thought he was a gun smith who traveled---and one day he left her, and their two children. His son was three---his daughter barely a year old. This was not quite 1950. Divorce was simply a scandal---but there was no helping it. Whatever changed Jack during the war made it impossible for him to be married to her.
It's hard for us to understand today---with divorce so common...but once upon a time, to be divorced was a living hell for a woman. Ruth took up nursing again---but she did not date...she lived with her children in her husband's father's house in Pittsburgh. At some point, she got a visit from men in suits...who explained to her that they would be checking in on her periodically. They also told her she was not to tell anyone about the visits. They were CIA...and they wanted to keep tabs on Jack's family.
It was the Cold War. Ruth was mindful of her duty to her country---and did what was asked of her. She raised her children...she worked. She became a companion to the Colonel, when his wife passed away---and she never told a soul a thing. Jack remarried---and had a second family. I can't imagine how difficult it was---being a single parent in an Ozzie and Harriet world...but she did her best.
Over the years, she took it all with amazing grace and dignity. Ruth was a woman of strong opinions---but her ideals were stronger still. Jack died one night in his sleep---in his early 40's...and despite what her relationship had been with him, I think she mourned him. When I met her, she was still working as a nurse. She wore the white uniform with pride---and between her shifts at the hospital, she made Thanksgiving Dinner for us---Chuck, myself, & the Colonel. He was just shy of his 90th birthday---a veteren of three wars, and still tough as nails. He didn't say much---and he terrified me.
Ruth showed me to a room on the third floor---and explained that I would be sleeping there. She knew Charles and I were living together---but that was not mentioned. I knew without being told, that I was expected to STAY there...that was simply respectful, and I understood the expectation. But there was a reason she wanted to know my bra size. Chuck's mother had left a beautiful wedding dress that her own daughter had worn for her wedding. Ruth showed it to me that weekend---and indicated that if Charles and I married, I was just the right bust size to fit it.
It was her way of welcoming me---and telling me that she approved the match. Charles and I did not marry for six years---and no, I did not wear the dress---but it was offered. Ruth came to the wedding, and since it was our own creation---no caterer or staff, she buzzed around behind the scenes, making sure the guests were taken care of. She indicated that I could stand to lose a few pounds---but by then, I "got" Ruth---I understood that she was quite direct. It was her way of caring.
Eventually, she retired to Georgia---to be close to her daughter and her family. In 2001, we decided to visit them for Christmas...and she got the chance to meet my daughter. Same old Ruth...a little softer in ways...but no less direct. I remember her on Christmas morning---delighted by how pleased Desi was with a huge teddy bear. It was a wonderful holiday.She fell in love with my daughter...who resembled so much Chuck's mom. And Desi liked her as well.
A few months later, Ruth had her first stroke. Then another. Her robust health was gone. Over the last few years, she had dozens of them---each one leaving her more and more infirm. Her family was near---but the road for her was brutal. Her body betrayed her, but she remained cogent...and we waited a long while as she made her way through each illness.
This afternoon around four, Ruth died. In the last few days, she rallied three times---each time she heard the voices of her three grandchildren. There was no mistaking it. I wished over the years, that her end would be more gentle. She was an amazing sort of strong...and it could be said that the lady died, as she had lived. Not easy---not all Ruth. I wanted to remember her...I wanted other people to know that a special woman had passed. Her memorial is Friday, in Georgia. I hope I can make the trip.
She is worthing remembering.
She is worth a last goodbye.
Sleep well Sister Ruth...you did us all proud.
Not your usual light chit chat.
But Ruth was...truly unique.
When World War Two hit, she joined the Army Nurses---and served for most of it on the Hospital Ships that made their way back and forth across the Atlantic. The ships were marked---but that was not promise of safe passage. The German Fighter planes were not inclined to respect their purpose---nor were the mines that littered the shipping lanes. Her duty was both dangerous, and heart breaking---but she undertook it. Staying home and "doing her bit" as most women did back then just wasn't enough for her.
So Ruth did her service. She did not see her husband during the war---though twice they almost met. It wasn't in the cards---but I have the account he wrote to his mother, about charging back and forth across France, trying to meet her boat. Ruth understood about honor, and duty. When the war ended, she made it home---to welcome her hero, as so many other wives did. In short order, she had their first child---and then a second. She tried to be a wife, and mother, as was expected of her generation...but...the War had changed Jack.
What she did not know---and did not learn for years, was that Jack had been recruited to the OSS during the war...and when it became the CIA, he was in their employ. She thought he was a gun smith who traveled---and one day he left her, and their two children. His son was three---his daughter barely a year old. This was not quite 1950. Divorce was simply a scandal---but there was no helping it. Whatever changed Jack during the war made it impossible for him to be married to her.
It's hard for us to understand today---with divorce so common...but once upon a time, to be divorced was a living hell for a woman. Ruth took up nursing again---but she did not date...she lived with her children in her husband's father's house in Pittsburgh. At some point, she got a visit from men in suits...who explained to her that they would be checking in on her periodically. They also told her she was not to tell anyone about the visits. They were CIA...and they wanted to keep tabs on Jack's family.
It was the Cold War. Ruth was mindful of her duty to her country---and did what was asked of her. She raised her children...she worked. She became a companion to the Colonel, when his wife passed away---and she never told a soul a thing. Jack remarried---and had a second family. I can't imagine how difficult it was---being a single parent in an Ozzie and Harriet world...but she did her best.
Over the years, she took it all with amazing grace and dignity. Ruth was a woman of strong opinions---but her ideals were stronger still. Jack died one night in his sleep---in his early 40's...and despite what her relationship had been with him, I think she mourned him. When I met her, she was still working as a nurse. She wore the white uniform with pride---and between her shifts at the hospital, she made Thanksgiving Dinner for us---Chuck, myself, & the Colonel. He was just shy of his 90th birthday---a veteren of three wars, and still tough as nails. He didn't say much---and he terrified me.
Ruth showed me to a room on the third floor---and explained that I would be sleeping there. She knew Charles and I were living together---but that was not mentioned. I knew without being told, that I was expected to STAY there...that was simply respectful, and I understood the expectation. But there was a reason she wanted to know my bra size. Chuck's mother had left a beautiful wedding dress that her own daughter had worn for her wedding. Ruth showed it to me that weekend---and indicated that if Charles and I married, I was just the right bust size to fit it.
It was her way of welcoming me---and telling me that she approved the match. Charles and I did not marry for six years---and no, I did not wear the dress---but it was offered. Ruth came to the wedding, and since it was our own creation---no caterer or staff, she buzzed around behind the scenes, making sure the guests were taken care of. She indicated that I could stand to lose a few pounds---but by then, I "got" Ruth---I understood that she was quite direct. It was her way of caring.
Eventually, she retired to Georgia---to be close to her daughter and her family. In 2001, we decided to visit them for Christmas...and she got the chance to meet my daughter. Same old Ruth...a little softer in ways...but no less direct. I remember her on Christmas morning---delighted by how pleased Desi was with a huge teddy bear. It was a wonderful holiday.She fell in love with my daughter...who resembled so much Chuck's mom. And Desi liked her as well.
A few months later, Ruth had her first stroke. Then another. Her robust health was gone. Over the last few years, she had dozens of them---each one leaving her more and more infirm. Her family was near---but the road for her was brutal. Her body betrayed her, but she remained cogent...and we waited a long while as she made her way through each illness.
This afternoon around four, Ruth died. In the last few days, she rallied three times---each time she heard the voices of her three grandchildren. There was no mistaking it. I wished over the years, that her end would be more gentle. She was an amazing sort of strong...and it could be said that the lady died, as she had lived. Not easy---not all Ruth. I wanted to remember her...I wanted other people to know that a special woman had passed. Her memorial is Friday, in Georgia. I hope I can make the trip.
She is worthing remembering.
She is worth a last goodbye.
Sleep well Sister Ruth...you did us all proud.






