Uncle Daddy

My mother’s sister Ruth died today. She had been suffering from Parkinson’s for 15 years, though only the last two years was it so bad that she needed full time care. She was less than three weeks from 85. Her husband Earl says her death was a surprise. All indications suggested she was stable. There didn’t seem to be anything that would prompt her death now rather than many months from now.

When we were growing up we would visit Ruth and Earl and their four daughters every summer likely for at least a week. Ten kids in the house could get a bit loud, but we always had enjoyable visits. When together all the kids called both fathers “Uncle Daddy.” During a three week road trip to Yellowstone when I was 12 we added the two oldest daughters for ten people in a new van (towing a camper) that could seat twelve.

This is both families together, adding Mom’s father and step-mother, taken in 1971. Ruth is in the back, third from the left.

As I got a bit older and doing some traveling on my own the family joke was whenever visiting the city where Aunt Ruth lived, even if just changing planes, call her up and listen. There was no need to say anything, one could rarely get a word in. Back in the 1990s before airport restrictions I changed planes in her city. We had worked out she would meet me at my incoming gate, walk and talk with me for an hour, then leave me at my outgoing gate. It was an enjoyable way to stretch my legs between flights.

In this picture from 1976 Ruth is on the left, Mom is on the right, and their sister Carol in the middle.

According to my computer’s calendar, which goes back to 2007, it has been at least 10 years since I’ve seen her. Up until perhaps five years ago my parents still drove to visit Ruth and Earl every year, though they did the 10 hour drive in two days instead of one. A few times up to the early 2000s I went with them, though I took the plane instead of the car. But only one cousin still lived in the same city, a lot of time was spent visiting more distant relatives of my parent’s generation or older, and my schedule filled up.

If my schedule permits I plan to attend the memorial service, even if it is the sixth one in two years. I haven’t seen some of these cousins in 20 years. That’s much too long considering how close we were as kids.