Sweet Ruth

Happy 96th Birthday Ruth, I love you!!

Today would have been Ruth’s 96th birthday. My ‘bonus grandma,’ Ruth was a part of our family for many years, and I miss her mucho, but I reckon she’s doing just fine out there. Here’s a poem I wrote for her:

She looks at me through loving eyes,

Paper skin that’s journeyed generations, weathered many storms.

She carries Brooklyn and a meager upbringing on her strong shoulders,

And while the years have been good,

The weight won’t be put down by choice.

She relays news from a world I can’t remember,

but that I eagerly project in my mind’s eye through her stories.

A perfect New York Jewish accent painting murals just for me,

Breathing life into relatives already gone, enjoying new adventures,

And a city where a young girl overcame financial and emotional hardships to make her way.

My Sweet Ruth is sweet to me.

Her bony fingers grab mine from across the table of our favorite date spot,

The Italian place that we seem to always end up in the same booth at,

And that provides the pizza which seems to be in endless supply in her freezer.

There are wrinkles in that face gazing at me,

And I’m too in my head to be fully here,

But now I look back and say thank you,

To my Sweet Ruth.

My Sweet Ruth tells it like it is, or at least like it is to her.

She is full of fear perhaps, but equally full of

love.

She wants the best for Mom, and Charlie, and Cate, and me.

She’s been around the block.

She defies aging with a mind that is sharper than my own.

She is wise in her way, but obstinate.

She is sarcastic and dry.

Her friends are all dead,

Both of her loves too.

She is ready to die.

It happened faster than I could have imagined,

My Sweet Ruth.

Returning to essence, home again, and me here,

Left with memory that now I turn back to.

A picture of elegant style, grace, whatever that means.

I picture the humor, the no bullshit, the way you and Mom would butt heads,

How we would commiserate.

What would you say about me?

What do you think now?

My stinky wetsuit in your basement, you just wanted me around,

Wanted family close,

Made us your family.

We gather around your table to feast.

We gathered around to recount stories and honor your life.

My sweet Ruth, I would love to weep for you.

Beautiful, fragile and raging, an eternal fire.

You loved us all so well.

Thank you,

My sweet, Sweet Ruth

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