Monday, March 14, 2022
OBITUARY: RUTH JOANN WINTERS BATY (1980 - 2022)
Yet, I never wrote of her, or what she was/we were going through. Don't know that I ever will. I will have to wait and see if what Subi Nanthivarman calls the "writing genie" picks up that pen and places it in my hand, and maybe some words in my head.
A twin, she, Ruth, was the artistic one, the Isadora Duncan of our place and time. In the 1920's she would have been a flapper, and it would have been bathtub hootch which hastened her demise, rather than the cardboard box wine that she couldn't stop buying, hiding, and drinking... and which destroyed her liver.
Yet, she is the same young lady who was terrified to drive more than 25 miles per hour (40 kmh) or get more than half a meter from the curb when learning to drive, went through the boy crazy times of a teenage girl, and who aspired to a career as an opera singer... in later years croaking songs in a voice badly injured by time, alcohol, and cigarettes.
She was also the girl, who, having decided to accept me as her "Dad", learned to sing "Ave Maria" and performed it for me at a high school recital as a surprise after learning how much I loved it.
Other tales I could tell here, some sordid, some humorous, some heartwarming. She loved kids and dogs and cats and couldn't get enough of them. She loved the world the way she wished it was, and, even after becoming legally blind still helped her kids plant and tend flowers in front of the (much too) small house that she fought for tooth and nail... with the constant help of family and a vast army of strange friends of all persuasions.
Not enough words, not enough time or space for someone like her.
She was a terrible pain at times and now a terrible ache.
Title of a story comes to mind, an old mystery by Raymond Chandler, Farewell, My Lovely...
“I got up on my feet and went over to the bowl in the corner and threw cold water on my face. After a little while I felt a little better, but very little.”
― Raymond Chandler, Farewell, My Lovely
So long Ruth/Ruthie/Rufus... and to her sister's three kids...Auntie Ri Ri. It's been a ride and I still don't have the words.
But, I guess the writing genie showed up after all. Thanks for the loan, Subi.
Of course, she WOULD have to choose the 13th of the month, and her twin sister's 13th wedding anniversary for her exit.
Always the center of attention.
Ruth Joann Winters Baty (1980 - 2022)
Labels: obituary, Ruth Joann Winters Baty
