Conversation

I have this friend that I have known most of my life. In some ways, she and I are as different as day and night and in others, we are connected at the soul. Our lives have had many parallels from our early penchant for finding trouble, to finding ourselves pregnant within months of each other more than once, to suffering loss on a large scale. Maybe it's because of this that she and I can have long philosophical conversations and really listen to each other when others (even those who love us dearly) may find both us and the conversations on the quirky side or even downright crazy. It's okay though, because we both know what we know and believe what we believe, and neither of us is asking for anyone else's opinion or approval. 

After having a lengthy conversation with her yesterday, the first in a long while, I kept thinking about our conversations over the years. As our lives have grown and changed, so has the content of what we talk about. When we were young, it was boys and parties and yes, a lot of mischief. Later it was spouses, kids, jobs, school, and all that these things entailed. Now, at this season of our lives, we still talk about our kids and now our grandkids, but we also talk about our losses and how they affect us. We talk about God, what is out there after we are gone, and all the things in the universe that we don't know and more importantly, don't understand and simply cannot wrap our heads around. These are conversations we have never had before because we had no reason to. We were young and invincible and so were our families.....until they weren't. 

It is a simple fact that the longer you live, the more you will feel loss as those around you leave this earth. I myself have been losing people that affected my life since I was 12 years old and I simply don't have enough hands to count the losses on my fingers anymore. With those losses, it seems that some hit us differently than others. It is not a comparison in the depth of our love for them, but perhaps there are those that we simply are connected to differently. Maybe our souls are more intertwined with some than we realized, and their loss takes us to emotional places we never dreamed possible. 

Both my friend and I have incurred some very painful loss in the last few years and hers has taken her on a journey of incomprehensible pain. It has also changed her and maybe even woken her up to how big and mysterious the world is. In trying to understand her loss, it has opened her up to thoughts, possibilities, and even beliefs that she had never really entertained in the past. From my vantage point, I have also seen that with loss, she grew closer to the one she lost and she has come to know that person (her child) far better than she even did in life. This in itself is painful and beautiful and it has brought her to a place where she now sees the world much differently. Thus fodder for many of our conversations over the last couple of years. Because of this, she has opened me up to realizations that I had never really thought of before. 

Prior to her loss, my friend questioned or maybe simply didn't fully believe anything spiritual, and honestly, like the rest of us, she was too busy surviving in this world to really pay much attention to really experiencing it. Now though, she is acutely aware of all the things we humans tend to miss on a daily basis. There is such beauty we don't see because of the blinders we wear. There is also so much we fill our lives with that really means nothing in the big scheme of things. I think one day the most profound thing she said to me was, "Lisa, the only thing that matters in this world is love." Now as long as I have known this girl, she has never once before prophisized about love, and yet, I know she now believes this to her core. 

Due to the mother who raised me and my upbringing, I have always had a firm foundation of God, faith, and my own spirituality though at times it may struggle a bit, it is usually fairly on point and has gotten me through more trenches than I would like to remember. Through the years I have told my friend my beliefs and where I stood and while she never discarded my beliefs, she also never saw things as I did. We were good with feeling differently, but it also sometimes limits the conversation when you know the conversation can only go so far and you seem more like a preacher than a friend. Now though, our conversations can actually be endless. 

Together, we have discussed God, heaven, religion, spirituality, and all the things out there that we can't even fathom. Yesterday we even talked about extraterrestrials. We were talking about Area 51, the incident at the Florida Mall, and the possibilities that if these things could be real, what that might mean in the big scheme of things. She said she felt funny talking about this stuff to others as people look at you sideways and some even find it a slap in the face to God. It kind of shocked me as my mother's words came to mind. My mother had her own legit experiences with the ET world and she told me one time that we were pretty egotistical to believe that just because God created us and "our world" that there wasn't more out there that He also created. After all, He is God and perhaps this world is all He felt the need to share with us. Like any parent, maybe He didn't feel the need to make us privy to all His creations, only the ones that He felt necessary we know about....at least for the time being. Honestly, it made sense to me. After sharing it with my friend, it made sense to her too. 

Other conversations we have had, have taken us into the sensitiy of children. Coming into this world with an open heart and spirit, I do think they can be sensitive to things that we as adults have shut out of our minds. Children don't know that they "shouldn't" see things, while as we grow older, the world tells us many things "aren't" possible, but aren't they? I've had my own "unexplained" experiences as a child that have stayed with me my entire life, and I have watched other children experience things that there is simply no explanation for. Again, this is not a disrespect of God, but the belief that God can do anything, and perhaps because children are so innocent and open, He allows them to experience things such as this to widen their views and with a purpose to mold who they will become. 

We have also talked about reincarnation which I can't really get my head around, but it is definitely an interesting concept and conversation, as well as Heaven and hell and people who have died (for minutes) and come back and what their experiences were. We have shared podcasts about all these topics, as well as thoughts about the paranormal and even ghosts. Yes, death can bring on a lot of questions, and some very interesting conversations if you allow it. 

Through all of these conversations, I have realized that time and circumstance have brought my friend and myself closer together. We talk about the weird stuff, the hard stuff, and the really painful stuff. She has also made me more aware of the world around me. I find myself picking my battles more carefully and realizing that most of the stuff we, as humans fight over, is just that.....stuff. In a week, month, year, etc, most of it will not matter and actually probably does not matter now. I also have found myself having such mixed views of others. While so much of what goes on in the world right now is sheer ridiculousness and people on a whole make me avoid humans at all costs, I do also try to view people through the lens of walking a mile in their shoes. I try not to make instant judgments on what I think of someone and I try harder to see deeper than just the surface. I am doing my best to make kindness my "go-to" even when I feel anger or anything but kindness. Most of all though, I am trying hard to cherish the moments I have with those I love in my own life. I try to appreciate the sound of a full house and my grandkid's laughter, the cold outside, even when it makes me aggressive, the sound of the rain, the time I get to share with my own kids, and the moments I have that are quiet so that I can listen and pray and maybe even hear beyond the regular hum of life. 

Yes, this particular friend, as with all of my friends, has a special place in my world. She has reminded me that life is short and we have to open our eyes and see its beauty and take in all that is given to us. She has also brought home the fact that sometimes the worst has to happen to us for us to be able to see things we never would have otherwise seen. She has helped me let go of all the stuff that clutters my mind and heart and most of all, she reminded me of what matters most......love!

Until next time......

Inspiration

Do you ever get inspired? No…..I mean really inspired? Inspired to the point that you want to be better, do better or make a change? These last few days, inspiration has run a muck with me. I have been inspired by several different people and believe it or not, I even inspired myself….(but that is a story for another time and another blog.)

To be quite honest, I am usually so busy that I don’t look up long enough to be inspired. That, and I don’t get out much. My life, although never without a dull moment, is usually status quo and one track and some days, I hit the floor at 6 a.m. and before I have a chance to blink, it is time for bed. There is little time for thought or inspiration on those days. But I digress…..

So my first act of inspiration happened when I talked to a couple of longtime friend a few days ago. We were discussing another person’s current needs and suddenly my friends spoke up and said, “We will help!” It was just that simple. It was followed up with them saying, “If you can help, you should help!” These people and those words inspired me more than anyone can ever know.

The conversation got me to thinking and made me realize that in most situations, there is almost always something each of us can do to help another person. We all have our own skill set and our God given abilities that we bring to the table, so why do we not use them every chance we get? Now truthfully, there are times when my only skill set or immediate ability is prayer, and sometimes…….that actually trumps everything else. However,there are those times and situations when I can speak out, call around, pass information along, write a blog or just listen…… and each of those things depending on the situation can be very important and maybe even life changing.  I know that and most of the time I do try.

So as I said, I was inspired and I told another friend about it. I said that I felt that I needed to step up my own game and do more because quite honestly…..If I can help, I should help. She took this as me counting myself short, pointing out that I do try to help. Yes, I do at times, but I know me and I know that I can do more.  Now….I am inspired to do so. So in the future, if I can, I will.

Then there was the other event. Again, longtime friends whom I haven’t sat down and actually talked to (except of course on Facebook), came and saw me today. They are both exceptional women, whom I have known for close to forty years. They actually came seeking my help for a project they are about to embark on. Sadly, my skills fell short of what they needed, but the project they shared with me, well it is brilliant and yes…..inspirational. 

It is something that made me realize just how amazing these two women are and how they can potentially inspire not only me, but women as far as the blogosphere can reach. It also made me realize that once again, I was falling short and their inspiration has made me want to once again…..do better.

How I am going to do better with the skills I have and the world I have been handed? I haven’t as yet completely decided, but trust me…..something is coming.

As for these two women, their project will soon be taking flight and when it does, I know you will be as inspired as I am. While I will not spoil their surprise as of yet, trust me when I say that I am already their biggest fan and you will be hearing a lot from me about them.

So yeah.....inspiration. It is everywhere if you have the time to look for it, but if you’re like me, every once in a while, it just hits you like a brick, wakes you up and starts in you a spark, that with the proper thought and dedication, may just fan into a full-fledged fire.

Stay tuned!

Sunday.....The Way it Should Be!

I love Sunday! Yeah, I don't just "like it" but I truly love it. Well, actually I love what in my head I believe Sunday should be.

When I was in my late teens and early twenties, I was friends with two sisters who came from a family of 12 kids. While my friends were second and third to the youngest....they had many older brothers and sisters. Every Sunday at their house was Sunday dinner. Yes, they were a Catholic family (no surprise I am sure) and the parents and the kids left at home would usually go to 11 a.m. mass. Then by 12:30 they were home and the rest of the family would start coming over. Everyone usually brought a covered dish and that was supplemented by fried chicken and dessert. While the food was always amazing (I still have recipes that I begged for back from those days) it was the family, the noise and the being together that made it so special.

As if there weren't enough people running in and out of their house on Sunday's with kids, spouses and grand kids, there was also an open door policy for friends and I was lucky enough to fall into that category. At least I think there was an open door policy. If not....I apologize now for spending just about every Sunday there for several years. At any rate, there always seemed to be room for one more and everyone was treated like family, no one went away hungry and usually in the summer time, there were still people there until 9 or 10 p.m. at night. Or again....maybe I just stayed too long. Whatever the case though, I lived for and loved my Sundays back then. My own home life at that time wasn't nearly as much fun and being that there was only my brother and I and most of the time we weren't speaking, Sunday was my day to be a part of something to me that was rare and special.

I never forgot those times. They stayed with me and I always wanted that for my kids. I wanted a day where we could unite as a family and spend the day unplugged and just talk, laugh and remember that those with us whether related by blood or not.....were family. At times I have succeeded at this better than others. I have always been the one to take in my kids friends and feed them and make them feel a part of our family, because I always remember how much I needed that and how great it felt when it was done for me. Other times though....well you know my story. Not everything always goes as planned in Lisaland.

It occurred to me on Saturday as we worked late into the evening on the pool and backyard and then we sat around talking and laughing and sharing stories, that I want that again. I want potluck dinners, an open door policy and family, friends and framily coming and going, laughing and talking and looking forward to that one day a week when we can all be together. I want pool time, bbq's and board games. I want music, laughter and sitting back full, happy and in the midst of amazing company. I want Sundays!

Well.... there you have it. I love Sunday's the way they should be. God first, family second and good food, good friends and lots of fun to follow. So just so you all know.....when the back yard is done and the pool is finished.....there will be an open door policy on Sundays in Lisaland. Bring your suit, your favorite dish and be ready for Sunday....the way it should be!

Last Night

Last night took me back about 20 plus years. It was just one of the nights that you didn't see coming....and yet I had a blast.

What started out as the same old Saturday was immediately redirected when a friend called and told me she just needed to talk. Being the friend I am......I suggested the bar. (When referencing the bar....I am talking about our little home town bar, where we know everyone, the food is good and you can actually hear yourself talk.) So upon deciding to meet at the bar that evening, my day immediately took an up turn and  gave me something to look forward to. Mind you....I don't get out to town much!

So first I went to church, then I went to the bar (don't judge me.....at least I went to church!) Now this friend I met up with is someone I have known more years than I care to admit.....especially when I only care to admit that I am 28. She and I have been through more, seen more and caused more trouble than most people ever dream of. There is a reason my mother didn't  want me to hang out with her. Now a days though....we are a little more responsible and mature.....after all, between us we have 10 kids, 4 dogs, 2 cats, mortgages, student loans, and underwear older than most of the people who inhabit bars these days. Still....if push came to shove and she and I were left unsupervised and to our own devices for very long....I am sure a spark from the old days might show itself. Actually she would spark...I would just smolder and then fizzle, but you know what I mean.

As I said....we went to the little home town bar, where we had dinner and talked. There is nothing like bar food. It is comfort food at its finest and as always we laughed and talked and then laughed a little more. All the while though....a friend of hers whom she goes to school with kept texting her and asking her to go to another bar for a birthday celebration. Finally....she gave in and told me I was going too. I didn't put up much of a fight....because as I said.....I don't get out to town much.

I must admit though, I did feel a twinge of anxiety because even though I only like to admit I am 28....I am a bit older. A BIG bit older and my vision of bars is a bunch of 20 somethings running around, listening to music I don't relate to/and or understand the lyrics too, looking at me like someone just let the dinosaurs in. Still and all...it was an adventure and after chasing kids and cleaning house all day...this girl needed an adventure.

The bar we went to was one that neither of us had ever been to, and as we pulled into the parking lot the first thing we saw was a tattoo parlor. Now most women of our age would have avoided the tattoo parlor and maybe even have avoided the bar too.......being that it was so close to the parlor....but not us. The first thing out of both our mouths was....."Lets get a tattoo!" We were on a mission. We both have virgin skin....it maybe the only thing on us that can carry that title....but nary a mark has ever marred that which God gave us. That was all about to change......or so we thought. Both of us were more than ready for the change that a tattoo would bring us even where her thoughts of being presented with divorce papers after wards and my thoughts of being shunned by my children and all polite society.....we simply didn't care. Sadly....they were closing shop as we went in and for whatever reason....they didn't want to stay open and put tattoos on two women old enough to be their mot....errr older sisters. Damn! I was so close to being the bad girl I always knew I was. All that was left for us to do was go drink!

Walking into the bar....it brought back memories of the bars we used to go to. It had that same dark, mysterious, you don't know what is going to happen feel about it. We were greeted by my friends school friends, and much to my surprise...the bar was packed and only about a handful were under 30. The rest were our age or older. To make things even better....there was a live band playing, whose band members were also of a certain age and they played 80's rock. Ah yes.....I was home! What was a ahhhhhh surreal moment soon became an OH SH!T! surreal moment when while looking at the drink menu....I suddenly realized that we had walked out of the last bar.....and NOT paid our tab!!! Suddenly the bad girl who wanted the tattoo became the really bad girl who had waited until she was an adult to unwittingly try her first experience at dining and dashing. We both about flipped. Ronnie and Ora Lee....we will be in there Monday to pay our tab in full!!!!!!!!!!

Once we talked each other off the ledge over our new found crime spree.....we actually settled in for a pretty good evening. The music was  good and the people watching was excellent. Some were funny.....some were just fun to watch.....and there were a few who were just down right scary. We did a "little" drinking, a little singing (be glad you weren't there) and a whole lot of laughing. It was just a fun night which ended with no tattoo's, no criminal record (as of yet), and lucky for me....no residual negative side effects the next morning.

All in all.....not a bad night for a girl who started the day doing laundry!

The Story of Ruth

A life well-lived. Can any of us ask for more than that? And yet some just seem to do it better than others. Ruth Poteete was one such person.

I met Ruth many years ago when we moved to Mulvane and she was our mail lady. She always delivered the mail with a smile and in the spring and summer she would often stop and visit with my mother who spent every waking moment in the yard when the weather allowed.

It wasn't until my sophomore year in high school that I connected Ruth to a very pretty, shy girl in my class named Berty. Berty and I had gone to school together for 3 years but not until I practically attacked her in Foods class asking her about her older brother whom every girl in the school had a crush on, that we actually met. I guess my big mouth and her shyness were the perfect match and from that moment on......we were friends.

Berty came from a large family (12 kids to be exact....6 boys and 6 girls) who were headed up by Ray and Ruth Poteete. Ray by this time was retired military working for the post office and between the post office, working on his passion wood working and his other passion running.....he wasn't often around and when he was, he kept to himself. Ruth on the other hand was around. She ran her home with the efficiency that only a military wife with 12 kids can. Her word was law and even though she was small in stature.....she could be a force to be reckoned with. I was privy to a couple of situations where I witnessed the wrath of Ruth and no one doubted that she meant business.

Ruth's home was a welcoming home with a door leading from the garage to the kitchen that was perpetually open. Along with her own 12 kids a steady stream of extended family and friends came and went through that door over the years....and always they were welcomed by Ruth with an ease that was both inviting and comforting. Looking back though....I suspect that after 12 kids....nothing much surprised her nor rocked her world to any extent.

When I first started going to the Poteete's on a regular basis....it was sort of a fantasy land for me. There was constant commotion, laughter, yelling and just plain life going on in that house and most of it taking place in the kitchen. To a girl with one brother who spent a great deal of her time alone.....this was a world I had only dreamed of. My fantasy though was their reality and I am sure they saw their house with different eyes than I did.

I think the thing I liked most about going to the Poteete's was Ruth's reaction to my being there. Her reaction was simply no reaction at all. If I was there.....I was treated like everyone else which meant I might be handed a dish towel and told to dry dishes, or a dust rag and told to go dust something. Often on Sunday's I was put on "Thiry duty," and told to go find Thiry (Berty's younger sister) who would always mysteriously disappear when she was suppose to be helping fry chicken or do dishes. I always found her hiding somewhere trying to sleep. I once even found her in the tub with the shower door shut. Ahhh....good times.

As Thiry got older, she, Berty and I became inseparable. Every Friday and Saturday night (and sometimes Mon.-Friday night too) we were gone. However, Ruth's rule was no one went anywhere on Saturday until the house was clean. This often meant that I was recruited to help in order to speed the process up. Looking back this is rather amusing as my house cleaning skills would never have and I am sure never did pass the careful inspection of Ruth. Even her own daughters were known to have to go back and redo a job more than once on more than one occasion which explained Berty's belief that things were never clean enough for her mom because she obviously had dirt in her eye. Possibly though.....Berty should have expressed this thought when her mother was not within ear shot as I believe her opinion was met with the evil "Poteete look!" If you have seen it....you know the look  I am referring to and Ruth passed that look onto each of her children! Go ahead....tick one off and see what kind of look you get! LOL

Every Sunday the house on Greenwich was alive with people. After Mass everyone gathered for fried chicken and a pot luck of assorted foods in the Poteete kitchen. For years every Sunday I could make it....I was there. My mother would have had a nervous break down having her house full of people, noise and commotion every week, but Ruth took it all in stride. In fact she seemed to thrive on having her family around and she could always be found holding a grandchild and enjoying the company of her children. After dinner when the kitchen was clean and everyone was just sitting around...Ruth would often tell stories of her past growing up in Moline, KS or about adventures she had had in Japan, the Phillipines or many of the other places she and Ray had traveled while he was in the military. My favorite story was of her experience being in the Udal, KS tornado back in the 1950's. The tornado virtually wiped out the whole town and because of the time it hit (night) there was no warning. It was a frightening experience to say the least, but like everything else....Ruth seemed to take it in stride.

Ruth had her onery side too. The Poteete house was always inundated with animals, but they were never allowed in doors. My two favorite animals where Bogart and Dinky. Bogart was weiner dog mix and Dinky was Heinz 57 whose mother was Bogart and whose father could have been any dog. Well one of them (can't remember which one) had puppies. They were so cute but Ruth had no intention of keeping more dogs so they were being given to anyone who would take them. There was one left and she was so cute. She was black and white and I loved anything puppish. Ruth knew it and told me to take the puppy home. I knew taking that dog home was going to ensue the wrath of my mother and I really did not want to go there. I told Ruth I better not, as I fawned over the puppy and then tried to hand her over to Ruth. Ruth was having none of that. She gently handed the puppy back to me and said, "go ahead. Your mother won't mind. Just tell her I said it was okay." Now I knew my mother and I knew it would NOT be okay. But I wanted that puppy so I decided to sneak her home and Ruth being the "generous" lady she was even provided me the box to sneak her home in and food to tide me over until I had found a way to break our new little addition to Mom.

As I knew would happen.....my mother about busted a kidney when she found out that I smuggled contraband in the form of a puppy into her house. As I stood there watching the vein in my mothers forehead throb as she was telling me not just NO....but HELL NO.....I burst out...."but Mom....Mrs. Poteete said it was okay." Normally telling my mother that someone elses mother had okayed something, thus trying to trump her would have been hazardous to everyone's health involved. But not this time. Mom picked up the puppy, looked it over and said...."She is pretty cute. Fine....we'll keep her." It was a WOW moment.

One of the reasons I liked Ruth so much was because she seemed so different from my own mother. As kids often do when they are less than pleased with their own parents....they compare them to other parents. When I was mad at my mother....I am sure Ruth was thrown in her face on more than one occasion. I always saw them as polar opposites until one evening. I am not sure whether Ruth was looking for a child, picking up a child, or just needed a break and for whatever reason ended up at my house. I know though that it was an unusual occurrence as to my knowledge other than their chats when Ruth was a mail lady and a few necessary chats regarding Berty and I....they had never really talked. Mom invited her in and they sat down in the kitchen and began a conversation that lasted at least a couple of hours. I perched myself on the stairs where I could hear but not be seen and listened as these two women whom had seemed so very different to me, suddenly became more and more alike. Both were brought up small town Catholic girls but that is where I thought the similarities ended. The reality was Mom was a single parent and Ruth often felt like one. Both had to put up with a great deal from the men in their lives and both were suffering through their childrens teen angst. Both also hand younger children at home whom they were trying to sheild from the older ones shenanigans. The way they talked you could tell that in many ways.....they were kindred spirits. Amazingly....Ruth had many nice things to say about me to my mother and she let her know that she was glad that Berty and I had found each other as she felt my "personality" had helped to draw Berty out. Mom of course felt that Berty had a settling effect on me and was so happy that I had a friend such as her. It was a surreal moment....these two so very different seeming women.....suddenly showing themselves to be very much alike. It was also surreal because a moment like that never again happened for these two. They ran into each other from time to time and again had a few obligatory phone conversations....but never again did such a conversation take place between them. Also...never again did I compare the two or throw Ruth in mom's face.

As the years went on.....I was invited into not only Ruth's home but also Ruth's family. She seemed to know that her family filled a void in my life and she told me on more than one occasion that I was around so much....she had decided to make me on honorary Poteete. It was an honor. I was even invited to a Christmas or two....which again was different than the Christmas's I had grown up with. With 12 kids you would go into the poor house trying to buy for everyone so Ruth stuck to the true meaning of Christmas raising her brood and taught them that it was about the giving NOT the receiving. Christmas at Ruth's was celebrated after midnight mass on Christmas Eve. Everyone came back to the house where of course....there was food galore and then gifts were open. Ruth's gift to everyone was always.....socks. When I got my first pair of socks.....I almost cried. It truly meant I was part of the family (in my head anyway....lol) The kids, who had drawn names the previous Christmas Eve....then presented each other with gifts that they had hand made. I remember a Christmas or two both Berty and Thiry panicking because come Dec. 23rd they had not as yet completed their gifts. It was a beautiful tradition which left a lasting impression on the character of Ruth's  children.

When the last of their children were out of high school, Ray and Ruth decided to leave that wonderful house on Greenwich and move to rural spot in eastern KS, then eventually they moved to Emporia and then Topeka. I missed the Sunday dinners and seeing a house full of Poteete's on a regular basis. But whether I had a wedding, a baby shower, a baby or any other major event in my life....Ruth always seemed to find a way to be present for it. Every Christmas....hers was the card I looked forward to getting and every special Poteete occasion that I could make it to.....I so looked forward to seeing her. She always seemed to be laughing and enjoying this new found stage in her life. I will always picture her with her beautiful white hair, her wonderful laugh and her glasses hanging from a chain around her neck. And her famous words to everything...."oh my!" 

When my husband died....she was there at the funeral. Ruth had never really been a verbally demonstrative person. Her feelings for others were always conveyed through her actions. I remember very little about that day. I remember it was hot, Thiry was pregnant and Berty, Dan (Berty's husband) and all their girls were there. Other than that....I remember little else....except for Ruth. She came up to me with tears in her eyes and hugged me. She said, "Lisa....I wish this hadn't happened to you. I am so sorry. I love you." Those words touched me more than anyone will ever know and like many other things about Ruth....will hold a special place in  my heart.

Later, when my own mother died....Ruth again touched me with her words. She let me know that she was always there for me.....that I was her honorary daughter and that if I ever needed her.....she was only a phone call away. I never dialed that number....but it was always a comfort to know that if I had ....the voice on the other end would have been one of love and compassion. It would have been Ruth.

When I heard Ruth had been diagnosed with Parkinson's I truly was not worried. Maybe it was my lack of knowledge about the disease....or maybe it was just how well I knew Ruth, but I felt Ruth was stronger than any disease. With the proper medical care....I figured this was merely a speed bump in the life of such a strong woman.

I was thrilled beyond words when I heard that Ray and Ruth were moving back to Mulvane. I envisioned getting to spend some good old fashioned Poeete time again with this amazing family. I had hopes of Sunday dinners with lots of noise and chaos and heck.....I might even go help clean on a Saturday for old time sake. The move however coincided with Ruth having med issues and her Parkinson's giving her a run for her money. I was having a garage sale and Ruth had some stuff she wanted me to sell. As I sat there in my garage...I saw an elderly woman pull up and get out of her car. She literally was shuffling very slowly to get across the street. Not until she was half way up my drive did I realize this was Ruth. She sat and talked for awhile and told me her meds were giving her fits. She let me know in no uncertain terms though.....this was merely a set back and as soon as her meds were adjusted, she would be back to her old self. She was right. A few weeks later I rode my bike by her house to find her walking in the yard picking up sticks and much more her old self. I began to make that a regular bike/walk route and would stop and visit anytime she was out.

In April of 2010 it was discovered that Ruth needed a heart valve replacement and a valve repair. She had been tired and not feeling well and her heart valves appeared to be the culprit. It was felt that after the surgery....she would feel tremendously better. This was not to be the case. After her surgery it was one health issue after another. She had trouble with her Parkinson's, she was dizzy, she felt awful and old health issues became present health issues. She was either in the hospital or a rehab most of the time.....being able to spend only a short time at home.

When she was in the hospital she was at the same hospital where my youngest had weekly physical therapy. So on therapy days I would sneak off and go visit Ruth. Several times she was obviously feeling too bad to have company....so I would go in, squeeze her hand, kiss her forehead and leave. She always managed a smile and a "thank you for coming by." One time though, when she was in the ICU.....I caught her on a good day. As I walked in a nurse was with her. Ruth seemed truly happy to see me and introduced me as her "honorary daughter." The nurse then laughed....."with all the daughters you already have....you need an honorary one too?" I laughed too as I had always kind of felt the same way. Ruth however did not laugh. She simply said...."yes!" We proceeded to visit about Berty, Thiry, her grandkids, my kids, Ray, the hospital staff and jello. Every time I would start to leave she would squeeze my hand a little tighter. Finally when I knew my son would be just about done with PT.....I told Ruth I had to leave. She smiled and said..."I know." She then grabbed my hand and said..."I love you Lisa!" Tears rose in both our eyes. They drift down my cheek now as I write this, for what I didn't know then was that was the last conversation we would have....and those were her last words to me.

Ruth continued her trips in and out of the hospital over the next few months. Her body was getting tired and complications from her health issues were taking their toll. On Thanksgiving morning I talked to Berty who told me that the drs. had told them she was not going to get better. Thanksgiving evening Thiry called crying. That is a sound I have only heard a couple of times in 30+ years. Ruth was gone! The reality was processing. I left for the hospital to say goodbye. The whole trip up their I had thoughts of Sunday dinners, Christmas socks and a smiling Ruth with her glasses hanging from her neck. I also had the same sinking broken hearted feeling I had had nearly 8 years before as I drove this same route to the same hospital to say goodbye to my own mother. I also worried that maybe my need to say goodbye to this woman and my presence at such a time might be viewed as intrusive to the family. I hoped though that maybe my being their might offer some kind of solace in all of this sorrow. My fears were alieved when I walked in and Thiry grabbed my hand and said "Thank you for coming," and Berty hugged me with both relief and the understanding that only three decades of friendship can bring. I have no doubt that Ruth had designed it that I could not only come to say goodbye to my surragate mother but also so that I would be there with the two women who meant more to me than anyone else in the world.

At Ruths funeral....Father said: "She survived a Tsunami, a prairie grass fire, a devastating tornado, and an large earthquake." I think I knew all of this but wasn't sure. I did know however that she was a small town girl who married a man who became military. While he served, she was at home raising 12 kids. She had little patience for whining and even though she was small in stature she could put the fear of God in you (i.e. the Poteete look). She loved plants and birds and the outdoors, She laughed often, loved with all her heart and lived her life to the fullest. Yes.....Ruth's life was a life well spent. So Ruth, I thank you for making me one of your own. I thank you for the Sunday dinners, the explorations of your house to find Thiry, the puppy, the Christmas cards, the socks, and most of all...for giving me the two very best friends a person could have. I know you are in heaven sitting at the kitchen table discussing us girls with my mom. Please be kind! lol I love you beyond words and miss you dearly. So dear Ruth until we meet again....R.I.P.