Ruth Wolgemuth Guillaume’s Tribute

This morning you have heard many stories about Mom’s loving and gentle spirit. I do want you to know that while these are true, there was definitely another side to our Mom. She was strong; she defined “feisty”! She did not tolerate incompetence—especially from anyone whom she hired to do a job for her. I am pretty sure that the window washer who carelessly put his ladder on top of her flowers in her garden and then appeared to be breaking a branch from her Oak Leaf Hydrangea is still talking about the stern rebuke from the stately old woman who threw open the patio door!

Several months ago, Stan and I were sitting at our kitchen table enjoying a Sunday dinner while Mom told us stories. We laughed ‘til we cried as she told us one story that screamed “stubborn and feisty.”

One Sunday in about 1967, when Dad was out of town, she, Deb and Dan went to their car after church. She turned on the engine but was not able to get the car to go into drive. She sat for a few minutes, considered her options and then being the resourceful woman that she was, she put the car into reverse and backed it all the way home!!

Now, the family lived close to church—but not THAT close. She backed her car on three different streets—one quite busy— ‘til she arrived at her driveway—a distance of slightly more than ½ mile. I can just imagine her with dogged determination, shaking as she clutched the wheel.

She never lost that invincible spirit. If you thought that all of us type A’s got our drive from our dad, I’m suggesting you have probably been blaming the wrong parent.
One of the things I admired most about Mom was her view of things. For the last eight years, Mom has lived in our home. Though she loved her little apartment and cared for it meticulously, she held it loosely.

As Stan and I wandered through her apartment in the hours immediately following her death, we were struck by how very little she owned. She had dishes her children had given her, she had books—lots of books, many pictures, a closet with elegant clothes—most carefully chosen at TJ Maxx or Marshalls and a few precious mementos—gifts from Dad and other family members and souvenirs from her many travels with Dad.

You have heard that on March 17, she died so peacefully. Maybe one reason for that was that she was clutching nothing here. She prayed faithfully that she would see all her family in heaven; she had that hope and so leaving this world was not difficult for her.

As we stood in her room, took in the emptiness of the place and looked at the rumpled bedding on the hospital bed she hated and had just left, we were in awe. She really owned nothing and now it didn’t matter.

It says in Revelation that in heaven there are living creatures holding golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. I am guessing she has seen a large, beautiful bowl with the name GRACE on it. I am sure she is singing—how she loved to sing—and I am sure she is wearing a beautiful robe as she gazes at the face of Jesus whom she has loved so long.

Mom concentrated on what really mattered and now she has riches beyond measure.