Mackay, Ruth

I will miss my grandma very much and I am happy and grateful that I got to spend some time with her the last few years. That her great grandchildren got to met and visit with her. I will always take the strength that she had to make it through the things in her life to push through my own adversities. I love you grandma I know you are in a better place now.

Debbie, What a beautiful tribute to your mom!!! Even though we grew up as best friends and I saw your mom often, I just learned things about her I never knew. Of course my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family. My (our) church has been informed and prayers went out for you on Sunday. Love you!!

Deb, what a nice story about your Mom. She sounds like a really interesting person that I wish I’d known. My heart goes out to you and your family. Take care!

I remember your mom fondly. She was fun to be around. Your obit was full of information that I never knew about her. She was so brave! I know you will miss her. Hugs! Donna Mays Guy

I’m so sorry for your loss. I remember my mom picking you all up for church. I guess that’s before your mom learned to drive. I was also very proud of your mom when she completed her nursing degree. I always admired her spirit and her willingness to see things through. She was one heck of a woman!

What a wonderful tribute to your mom. When I saw her picture it made me smile. The same Ruth I remember. I am so blessed to have been part of her church of the highlands family. The history you gave was truly amazing. I now realize where the hard working drive she had came from. Love and prayers to you and the family. Love you

MY SISTER, RUTH

I have always felt close to Ruth, my sister. She was ten years old when I was born and she, in truth, was my first mother. It was November 1939 in Hamburg, Germany and our father, a Jew, had left for the United States via Italy three days before I was born, to escape Hitler’s Germany. My mother was left frightened and alone in a world that had turned very hostile. Ruth took over the work of taking care of me because my mother had a nervous breakdown.

Ruth always had a lot of courage and capacity for change. I admired the way she picked herself up after her first marriage. She went from being the down-trodden but patient wife, hoping for a better day, to a woman who stood up for herself and accepted divorce rather than continuing in a punishing relationship with an alcoholic. Yet, she did not harbor bitterness or hate towards her first husband. In later years, she told me she and her ex had some good talks by phone and were exploring the past together.

After the divorce, Ruth knew she had to make a living and became a nurse. She elected to work at nights, having always been a night owl. She told me she liked working when the bosses weren’t there; it appealed to her independent nature. And she preferred to work with people who were dying. She had never been afraid of death and was able to be a comfort to the dying.

Ruth had three more serious relationships with men after her divorce, each of them loving and on her terms. The first was a partnership that was a marriage except for the formalities, the other a formal marriage, and the third a deep friendship. Her second husband, Don, was the love of her life and their five years together, before he was killed riding a motorcycle, were the happiest of her life. She felt loved and cherished.

Ruth could always pick herself up and continue with life. Her partner died after they were together for five years and, of course, she missed him. But in a while she found Don and started over. Of course, she missed Don terribly when he died but she again took courage and moved to a new life at Century Village in Florida, where she was involved for years in a very beautiful friendship with another man. And then, when she could no longer live by herself, and her daughter, Debbie, lovingly took her to Texas to live with her, she again picked herself up and accepted life as it now was. When I spoke to her over the phone she told me how much she was enjoying life with Debbie and how fond she was of the dogs. There was not a word about her past life nor any lament about no longer being independent. She simply never looked back.

No one can live life with the acceptance that Ruth brought to it without a lot of inner strength that comes from a feeling of connection with the Divine. She was a deep and spiritual person who used this life to nourish her soul and prepare herself for life after death—which, she knew in her heart, was a certainty. Through most of her adult life, she suffered a great deal from irritable bowl syndrome that sapped her strength and often limited her life. When this was at its worst we would joke about how it would not last forever. She would laugh and cheerfully exclaim, “Bring on the Grim Reaper!” She clearly thought of death as nothing to be afraid of.

I learned my somewhat macabre sense of humor from Ruth. She would laugh uproariously over the blackest of black humor. We had a lot of fun whenever we were together.

Her visit to me in California during the 1970s was memorable. We gleefully visited every bakery and had the richest desserts we could find. We had great fun in San Francisco eating in various Italian restaurants including Scoma’s, a famous fish restaurant on Fisherman’s wharf. She loved my Berkeley coffee house, the Cafe Mediterraneum, and said that if she could move to Berkeley she would hang out at the coffee house all the time. And, of course, we exercised our mutually macabre senses of humor on each other. We always had a good time together.

Ruth was completely uninhibited about her body. One day we were in the North Beach area of San Francisco standing in front of Carol Doda’s topless club (long gone). I said that I could not understand why anyone would want to pay to see topless women when there were plenty of free nude beaches around. Ruth’s face immediately lit up and she said: “Really? I have always wanted to do that! Can we go to a nude beach?” I answered that we sure could and it happened that the next day was quite hot, so we went. I did feel a little embarrassed undressing in front of my sister but, what the hell, after all she had seen everything—she was a nurse. I soon relaxed and Ruth had a great old time walking around the beach naked and talking with naked men. She was very gregarious with or without clothes. But don’t mistake this for her having been “loose.” She may have been uninhibited about nudity but beyond that she was actually quite conservative and definitely monogamous.

Ruth was comfortable with men and so had no trouble meeting men. I saw just how outgoing she could be when we had dinner at Scoma’s. It’s a very busy place and we had to wait in the bar for a table to come free. I left her alone for awhile to visit the men’s room and when I came back she was seated in a booth with a gentleman who soon left with his party to take his table. But not before I heard Ruth invite him to stay with her if he came to the Chicago area (she was still living in Downers Grove at this time.) When we were alone I asked her whether she wasn’t being awfully forward with this fellow, inviting him to stay in her place. She reminded me that she is a night nurse and that she would not be at home all night long. We joked about how she might entice him: “Make yourself comfortable. Get into your pajamas…” and then the next thing she would appear in her hat and coat and say goodbye to the fellow!

There were many long years when Ruth and I didn’t see each other but I phoned her at least once a month just to stay in touch. I was able to visit her in Florida a couple of times and as before, we always had a good time together. I wished she could have visited me more often in California. I saw her last during the 1990s and wish I could have travelled to see her one last time in Texas but that wasn’t possible. We will see each other on the other side.