Esther Marie Ruthruff (1920-2011) - A life of love.

My grandma died earlier this year. Grandma Ruthruff was the only grandparent that I truly knew growing up. She was the only one who was involved in my life. Grandma Ruthruff was the kind of grandma you see in made for TV movies. The one wearing an apron standing in the kitchen making apple pie who drops everything when her grandchild comes into the room and bends down to give them a great big grandma hug. While watching that movie one of two things happens, you either reminisce about your own grandma or you find yourself wishing that was your grandma. I have the best memories of my grandma.

I can still smell how my grandma smelled. A mixture of sweet aromas of baking, greasy fried chicken, vinegar from canning or cleaning and mountain fresh laundry detergent. Maybe not all at once but a variation nonetheless. I can picture her living room with the variegated brown carpet. Not too clean but not too dirty either. Just perfect for kids to play on, shoes or not. I can see her rocking chair and just where it sat before you went down the hallway to the 3 bedrooms and one bathroom. I can see her sitting in that rocker peeling apples or peaches for canning or snipping beans. She could peel an apple making one unbroken spiral out of the peel. And I can see her lay her work aside if I needed or wanted a hug. I can hear her voice as she would sing songs while we played on the living room floor. The smells, the sights and the sounds all a part of the unconditional love I felt at grandma's house.

Grandma Ruthruff was a simple woman. Not into fashion and definitely not trendy. Grandma was strong physically. She took care of much by herself being a widow. Grandma tended her garden out back, wash her laundry and hung it out on the line to dry, all the while working a full time job at the local nursing home. Grandma cooked, cleaned, canned food, baked bread, and fed whomever came through her door. Grandma may not have had the finest in clothing or a matching handbag and shoes but she had a heart of gold and a beauty all her own.

At grandma's funeral her youngest son officiated. I am not sure how he held it together when speaking about his own mother's life and passing. I remember at my mom's funeral I was unable to speak. My mom would have been proud of her little brother had she lived to witness her mother's funeral. My favorite part of the funeral was when there was a time for anyone to share memories of grandma. It was fun to hear my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandma's friends (the few that were still alive) share memories about grandma. My grandma had a lot of grandchildren. I am not even sure how many in total. It was interesting that many of us shared similar stories. What one of us may have grown up thinking was a unique experience we had personally had with grandma we found out that many of the other grandchildren had shared the same or similar times with her. That was probably one of the best qualities of our grandma. Although she had many grandchildren and great grandchildren not once did I feel that I was competing for her love. Amazing! This was shared by all at her funeral.

Below are some photos from the beautiful day we shared remembering our grandma and the amazing woman that she was. She is a part of me. I share some of her mannerisms, tendencies, loves and characteristics. She instilled in me a love for food, for God, for family, for time shared together doing simple things and for beauty around me. I thank God that he blessed me with such a wonderful grandma.