Since Gramma Ruth passed, nearly 13 years now, I have thought of compiling her terse sayings together into a book for my children. Oh, how I remember, though not often with fondness the sayings rolling off of her lips, over and over and over again. For Ezra, who is my only child who never met, "Ruthy" {as Dad would call her} I did a before school series of discussions on the sayings of Ruth. We talked about the way she pulled her sword out of sheeth and she had specific intentions for each word. ie "Youth is wasted on the young"
She got these sayings from her travels and she didn't intend a one of her offspring to die without their inheritance. These sayings were the inheritance and what they meant were for the lot of us to dig out in our own experience.
I must say that at the time I was not disposed to respect her reusing other people's sayings the way that she did. I was more inclined to respect the contemporary muses of my day and poo-pooed the likes of "a stitch in time saves time" crowd. I know now that she and I were kindred spirits, weaving words into the minds of our youth, hopefully, for their profit. I was privy to her early efforts, before she calmly learned how to skillfully enter the admiration of youngsters. She used to just slam us with sayings.
Toward the end of her life, we had made peace with eachother, which was confirmed by her saying to me, "remember when you wouldn't come into my house?" I do remember Gram. I do remember. Now, I see her everyday. When I look into the mirror, when I see the terse way that I handle my younguns. I am thankful that she taught me to love her, over time.
She wove word usage into my psyche the hardest way possible and taught me to wrestle the word usage into my unwordy children as well as my wordy children. For that, I am truly grateful. I came to her house one day and she was playing the memory game with Muffy. What is up, Ruth? I thought to myself, where is your sword? This is my sword and yesterday, I learned the memory game with her, for the profit of my own children who say the same to me, when I am a softy. Where is your sword? {tongue} I do want to hold your hand, Ruth and weave words into the minds of my kids...
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