August 29, 2007

• I want to tell you about one of my heroes.
  Born in southwest
  Arkansas in 1923, she lost her Daddy when she and her sister were tiny,
  and grew up with a mother who had to work hard to raise them. It was
  tough. Along the way, she learned how to pray.
  When she was just 16,
  she married her sweetheart, and she and her kind-hearted husband raised
  two children. They were a good family, church-going, honest,
  hard-working, respected in their community.
  After working for years
  in the succession of small businesses she and her husband owned, she
  developed her own career with a Fortune 50 company, working her way up
  from the production line to become a trainer who flew around the
  country, teaching her skills to others. At her retirement party, she
  was personally honored by the company's CEO, who had never failed to
  sit down for a private chat with her whenever he visited their local
  facility.
  If you asked her what her life's biggest challenge has
  been, she’ll tell you that it was taking care of her beloved husband
  after he got Alzheimer’s Disease. She cared for him at their home in
  Camden as long as she could, with both of her children living far away,
  then at her family's urging, they packed up and moved to Florida to be
  near their son and his family. It wasn’t easy to leave the town where
  she had lived for most of her life, where she had close friends and a
  dearly loved church home, but she did what she needed to do. And she
  prayed.
  She finally had to make the hard decision to put her husband
  in a nursing home, where she went to see him faithfully every single
  day, even when he wasn’t sure quite who she was anymore. In his mind,
  she was his teen-aged sweetheart again. Almost every day, her husband
  of 50-plus years asked her to marry him. She still smiles when she
  talks about that.
  When he died, she was heart-broken, but again she
  pulled herself up, squared her shoulders, and set about making the best
  of her life. She cooked meals for her children and grandchildren. She
  made new, good friends. She taught an adult Sunday school class in her
  new church. Her pastor often turned to her when he needed a listening
  ear and wise advice, just like people have been doing all her life. And
  like she'd done all her life, she read her Bible every day. And she
  prayed.
  Two years ago, when her son and his wife decided to move to
  the Ozarks and asked her if she wanted to come along, she jumped at the
  chance to come back to her much-missed Arkansas. Even though it was
  hours away from her hometown, Harrison was still heaven to her. She
  joined the First Christian Church, and proceeded to make friends at
  there and in the complex where she enjoyed her cozy apartment. She
  learned to navigate around her new hometown, and drove herself to the
  doctor, the grocery store, the drugstore. She became a faithful library
  patron, and volunteered for a job at church. She picked up her
  wheelchair-bound neighbor’s mail for her every day. She called sick
  friends to check on them. And she prayed.
  Then one day in early
  June, she had a sudden weak spell and fell, shattering her ankle. 
  After complicated surgery to put her bones back together with plates
  and screws, she spent the whole summer in a local nursing home, doing
  long hours of rehab, and lots of waiting. Much of the time she was in a
  cast to her hip.  She was in pain, uncomfortable, banished from her
  home and her familiar routine.
   She worked hard at her therapy, with
  the encouragement of her family, including her daughter, who came from
  Washington to spend a month. She smiled at everybody who crossed her
  path. Lots of people there told her that her cheerful kindness helped
  them get through their days. Employees brought their children to see
  her, and came by just to give her hugs and see her warm smile.
  Sometimes they sat on her bed and told her their troubles. She made
  lots of friends.
  All summer, she kept a bright and shining goal in
  her mind: to gain enough strength to be able to go home again. She
  worked hard.
  And she prayed.
  Saturday, she moved back home to her
  apartment. She’s able to walk a little, very slowly on a walker, and
  she’s using a wheelchair the rest of the time, at least for now. She’s
  fixing her own meals. Health-care workers come by several times a week;
  her church folks come. Her son visits every evening, her daughter calls
  daily, and her friends and grandchildren call often.
  It’s not easy
  to switch gears from being able to walk and drive and go, to spending
  months laid up and totally dependent on others. It’s not easy to adjust
  to a slowed-down version of your life. It’s not easy to be cheerful and
  positive when you’re tired and hurting and don’t know what’s around the
  next corner. But she does it. She rolls with the punches. She expects
  the best.
   At 83, Ruby DeWoody, my mother-in-law and my hero, knows where her strength comes from.
  She prays.

  By Celia DeWoody
  Published Aug. 29, Harrison Daily Times, Harrison, Ark.
  Copyright CPI, Inc. 2007
  
  

  • 10:08 pm
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