Ruth M. Bido Morton

Ruth Mary Bido was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on August 18, 1935. She was the youngest of two children born to Maria Schwass and Karl Bido; her mother and father emigrated from Germany during the mid-1920’s. Around the age of two her parents sent her to live in Germany with a family relative, and upon returning a few years later, and with little command of English, her charming character convinced the ship’s captain to care for her if she couldn’t find her family. Thankfully, she was reunited with her parents and her older sister Esther. In her youth, the Bido family was actively involved in church and community life, both at home in Philadelphia and with the Pennsylvania Dutch in Lancaster County, PA. In 1953 she graduated from Girls High School, Philadelphia. While a student, she was opinionated, particularly about social issues and politics, and at times her words were chastened by her teachers. Her opinions, however, were not limited to the issues of the day. When she first met her future husband, where he spoke at a youth retreat, she thought he was a little heavy handed and a bit unkind to his audience. Nevertheless, two days after my mother’s 20th birthday, Ruth married George Frank Morton on August 20, 1955.By all accounts their marriage thrived.

They were married for 61 years. Together George and Ruth had six children spanning three decades: Jonathan David (1959), Joel Andrew (1961), Jeffrey Scott (1962), James Mark (1965), Maribeth Lynn (1967), and Jennifer Lynn (1970). Ruth worked her whole life; she nurtured her children, cultivated her home, assisted physicians at local doctor’s office, and partnered with my father’s life as a church pastor. Theirs was a rich life where their front door was always open to friend and stranger. Our dinner table always had a space for the extra guest. My parents took ballroom lessons together and wowed family and friends with their skills on the dance floor. My father said she really liked to lead. I knew this to be true on the occasion when I danced with my mother.

Most of all, my parents modeled what it meant to be a good friend. My mother created deep, deep relationships and had friends that followed her whole life. She was like her father Karl, who could enter into any conversation and any people group to make her presence known. In a word, she was gregarious. Better yet, she had an infectious personality and a spark that made you feel beloved.

My mother had a twinkle in her eye and an award winning smile. I loved looking at their wedding photos in our house; and in one particular image, my mother and father look into the camera with such youthful delight and confidence that belonged on the silver screen. She was so beautiful and my father was so happy. Her world was surrounded by pictures; some suggested she created a shrine out of them. She took pictures, commissioned portraits of her family, and collected pictures from others. For Ruth, pictures were more valuable than currency. On the sideboard of her dining room was a camera just waiting for her to pick up and use. This was in the days before our pocket phones and our ability to instantly post an image to social media. Born at another time, she would have used Instagram well. Her pictures were mostly of people including friends, co-workers, and family of course. These pictures showed people at work and at play, but mostly these were pictures of happy people with smiling faces. She knew the power of a smile and the ability to shape the tone of any social engagement.

There is much to say about Ruth Morton as a friend and as a mother. She was a baker of sticky buns and sweet bread, which we dutifully consumed. She was a sewer of dresses and blouses; she amassed a large collection of plants and tended her interior garden. She canned vegetables and made all kinds of cakes. (Chocolate was my favorite.) She loved to eat lobster (with lots of butter) and she craved salty snacks. She knitted all her children big, heavy comforters, rooted for our teams and consoled us when we lost. Comfort was her gift. Most of all she had an emotional reserve that, while seemingly always available and full, eventually ran out. This is us. In Ruth, we are left with a picture of a fully lived life that is, at best, aspirational for any child (or friend) to carry forward.

Ruth is preceded in death by her husband and is survived by six children, eleven grandchildren, and one great-grandchild.

Jeffrey Morton

In lieu of flowers, contributions in Ruth’s name may be to Trinity Orthodox Presbyterian Church, Women’s Ministry, 151 West County Line Road, Hatboro, PA 19040.