Thanks for your kind words, my friends.

This woman was incredible. She had survived and recovered from a broken back; a heart attack; a fall outside her garage, just two years ago, which broke her shoulder. She drug herself to her kitchen door, pulled herself up the steps and into the kitchen, used the counter to pull herself up to the phone, THEN didn't dial 911. Oh, no, she was a proper lady and wanted family first, so she tried her daughter, who wasn't home; her granddaughter who wasn't home, then, finally the neighbour, who was home, who immediately called 911! She went trhough surgery for that, rehab, and went right back to her aerobics class, bowling, and her social activities!

She reminded me of the Energiser Bunny or the Timex watch that "took a licking and kept on ticking." This last bout she recovered, almost fullly, from several small strokes which left her speechless and in a wheelchair, until, as I said, about two months ago, when she finally had to go to hospice.

Like my mom, she had twinkly eyes, beautiful rosy cheeks, and a gorgeous smile. She had a quirky little laugh and a shrug for any problem which she just didn't let daunt her. She taught school in the "early days." I spent part of one summer with her and learned that one peels tomatoes when fixing a "posh" salad and she helped me sew my own school clothes for that fall, just like my mom.

On her birthday, Dec. 18th, she sat up in bed, crossed her arms, and announced to all and sundry that she was not going to go to work that day because it was her birthday!

She also was aware that she didn't make a lot of sense, recently, and would giggle at her daughter, after making an out of context statement, then remark, "I'm not making sense, am I?"

The last musical event she went to was the symphony orchestra where she lived in Colorado, just a couple or so weeks ago. It was difficult; she had to have two large oxygen bottles and was in a wheelchair. She was in and out of "being here" for most of the concert, but when it was over, she asked if that was it, it seemed so short. Seems the last piece they played was about all that she'd heard and remembered. It was Strauss' Death and Transfiguration.

Rest well, Aunt Ruth, you've earned it.

kat