Sylvia had plans to meet with her two older sisters and a cousin to attend the East Lansing, Michigan Art Fair. This is a tradition for the gals and one they all look forward to each year with anticipation. Plans changed when the mother-in-law of one of the sisters passed away quietly in her home.
I wasn’t going to write about this until I read today’s story on Lin’s blog. She writes about an obit she read in the weekend paper. It must have been a fun-loving family–especially the daughter who obviously wrote the obit. Then I read Vanilla’s post regarding memory, and this post was formed in contemplating the writings of these two friends.
Ruth O. Peterson of Cadillac passed away peacefully at her home Tuesday evening, May 15, 2012. She was 89.
She was born in Burdell Township, Osceola County on December 24, 1922 to David & Agnes (Watson) Johnson, the sixth of seven children. She grew up in the Tustin area, and was salutatorian and president of the 1940 class of Tustin High School.
You can see the intelligence and humor in that lovely face. It is said of Ruth that she grew up in a house where they spoke “Swenglish”–a mixture of Swedish and English. Someone related an exchange between young Ruth and a friend. Fortunately, the story teller also translated for us. There were many stories told and memories shared at the funeral. I’d like to share two of them with you.
A daughter-in-law read a composition that was beautifully crafted. Each stanza started with, “Mom always love me best. I am [insert name and description in order of each of her four sons and two daughters]. It was obvious that mom loved each of them. It made me think of the funeral for Sylvia’s mom. They asked me to share a few words on behalf of the family. As we talked about what to share, another of her sons-in-law summed it all up for those of us who had married into the family. His words? “She was my mom too.” It is beautiful to see that love in a family and we saw it there at the celebration of Ruth’s life.
Ruth’s younger daughter related an incident from the past. Mom was in the basement doing laundry and one of the boys was playing upstairs. The peaceful atmosphere was interrupted by Ruth’s frantic call to her son, “Quick! Come here I need you.” One doesn’t tarry when mom uses that tone of voice. The toy was dropped from the hand that held it. Small feet hurried down two flights of stairs. The youngster breathlessly asked his mother, “Yes, what is it?” In a whisper, his mother said, “There is no Santa Claus.”
Our hearts go out to the Peterson family and we are comforted with them in seeing the joy of a life well lived.
A well loved life to be sure.
When my father died I refused to wear a somber color to the service. He loved me in bright dresses. He bought most of my clothes throughout my life. He was one of those men who could look at a woman and pick out a dress or suit and it would be perfect for the recipient. It would fit no matter the person’s size.
I wore bright green with orange and yellow flowers. The old folks were appalled that I would “disrespect” him like that but I knew he wouldn’t want me in black. We then went and had the biggest celebration that South Philly had ever seen.
I like the obituaries in small town newspapers and old tombstones from waaayyyy back–they just seem to tell us more “real” news about the person who died. When did we stop doing that? I don’t care who they are related to–tell me something about THEM!
I like that we are starting to go back to that concept–making funerals, wakes, and obituaries more “real” and fun. I know the person is gone, but I know I’d rather folks have a few laughs on me on that day then everyone sitting around whispering and making polite small talk. Goodness knows I’ve given you all something to talk about while I was alive!! 🙂
I heard today about tombstones with the QR tag on them that allows someone to scan and see more information about the person. I think she should have one!
Ruth had absolutely beautiful skin. I am just starting to get “older” in the face, so I guess I’m thinking about such things lately. Funny how our looks change when we are older.
When I think of obituaries, I always remember John Wesley’s recorded departing words to his family: “Best of it is, God is with us. Farewell.”