Memories of Aunt Ruth

always Aunt Ruth
black hair in a French twist
rouge and red lipstick
a string of pearls
sleeveless dresses
hose and high heels
sings like a bird
a hearty laugh
politics and religion
complimentary
sophisticated
adding life to the party

I remember going to Harv-something (Harvey? Harvard?), where Uncle Jay and Aunt Ruth lived. It was Thanksgiving. I remember a white house with lots of trees dropping fall leaves. It was a sunny, crisp day, very beautiful. The house was filled with the aroma of roast turkey. The women clattered in the kitchen while the men watched football in the den. Uncle Jay sat in a big chair. I can still hear the shrill blow of the whistle, the call of the ref, and the cheering crowd. And I can hear the electric mixer whipping the potatoes and Aunt Ruth's laughter filling the air. Uncle Jay and Aunt Ruth both had unique and distinct voices.

My girls were so surprised to see that Aunt Ruth was a farm girl from Nebraska. "I thought she was always a city girl," they said. I guess she made Chicago her farm.

I loved Aunt Ruth. She was unique.

Cathy