Wife of the late Thomas T. Powell, MD. Sister of Lois Schuerman, Allen (Mary Ann) Kreuscher; mother of Cynthia F. (Doug) Farber, Daniel T. (Douglas Blankenship) Powell, Timothy T. (Susan) Powell; grandmother of John Farber, Sharon Smith, Susan Sund, Mark Powell, Stephanie Powell, Sydne Powell. Also survived by 7 great grandchildren, nieces, nephews and other loving family. Visitation, Tuesday, 6-8pm, Funeral, Wednesday, 9am both at Olinger Crown Hill, 29th & Wadsworth. Interment, Mt Lindo Memorial Park. Memorial contributions may be made to The Denver Hospice, 501 S. Cherry Street, Ste.,700, Denver 80246 or Colorado Bible Students,1966 Mt. Zion Drive, Golden 80401.
RUTH'S LAST HANDWRITTEN PRAYER
(found at her bedside):
Our Precious, Loving Father:
We thank you that you are always available to hear our prayers. Thank you for being a God of mercy, love, and compassion.
We thank you for forgiving us when we have fallen short though we try to do thy will.
We thank you for the precious promises. We pray for more Holy Spirit, wisdom and love in our lives.
May we always show our brothers love and kindness and be ready to help any who need help.
We pray for all who so desperately need your help, especially those of faint heart, those who know you not, and for those who are ill and out of work.
Only you will be able to help this world right itself. We pray for the full establishment of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth for all men of all races.
Thank you, Father, for the time we have spent with you.
All honor, glory and praise to your name. Through Jesus’ merit, Amen.
RUTH'S EULOGY BY DAN POWELL
Good morning. My name is Dan Powell. As you hear me speak, please add in your minds the counterpoint of a second and third voice, that of my sister Cindy and my brother Tim. In our mourning for our Mother, we are joined as one.
Welcome everyone and THANK you each for coming to our mother’s memorial service today. She loved each one of you in different and special ways and I think she is honored, even from her journey beyond this physical life, to have you here today.
I am going to speak to Ruth’s life through stories and they will run the gambit from emotional to humorous. So bear with me if I pause for a moment here and there to gather my thoughts and compose my emotions. Laugh as you will—it is good for the soul and helps us to heal. Cry too if and when you need to do so, for that is good for the soul and brings us healing as well.
Best known for his beloved “Chronicles of Narnia,” the famous Oxford professor, lay theologian, and renowned author, C.S. Lewis often said, “God loves us, so He makes us the gift of suffering…The blows of His chisel, which hurt us so much, are what make us perfect.” Ponder that for a moment with me; this is the theme I want to use to speak about my Mom’s life, both in an historical sense and through anecdote. “God loves us, so He makes us the gift of suffering…The blows of His chisel, which hurt us so much, are what make us perfect.” When I imagine a chisel chipping away at stone I think of the sound “thunk” as the chisel is hit and “plink” as the little chips fall away.
My Mother occasionally said that she was a “diamond in the rough.” She knew she came into this world with flaws but was determined that those imperfections not hold her back from life, from relationships, from love.
Ruth was born to William and Grace Kreuscher in DeWitt, Nebraska on March 18, 1928. She was the second of four children, which included her brother Glenn, 8 years her senior, her brother Allen, 3 years her junior and her sister Lois, 5 years her junior. Grandma Grace had two pregnancies after her son Glenn was born but both babies were lost pre-term or just post-term due to complications. The next pregnancy, Ruth, was extremely difficult for grandma Grace. In fact, she was confined in bed for many months during her pregnancy with my mother, a confinement that she equated with imprisonment and she disliked and resented it greatly by the time my mother was born. Sadly, much of that resentment was recognized by a young Ruth. To tell the truth, both my mother and her mother were very much alike. Both were very independent, strong-willed, opinionated and could be downright stubborn. This rejection in mom’s early childhood was very difficult and it took her many years to overcome it. “Thunk-Plink” goes the chisel chipping away at the stone we know as Ruth.
Believe it or not, Ruth graduated from DeWitt high school on May 16, 1944, when she was just sweet 16. Boy, we almost never allow that to happen today unless the kid is really smart. Hint: yep, Mom really was that smart. In fact, my Aunt Lois still calls her “the thinking machine.” Ruth wanted to be a nurse, but you had to be at least 19 to get into nursing school back then. So, she had a few years to wait. The fall after she graduated high school she taught for a year in the one room school house in DeWitt, 1st through 8th grade. Now think about that, the 8th grade boys were just a couple of years younger than Mom was—what kind of challenge it must have been to maintain discipline and yet teach all those kids spelling and grammar and arithmetic. There’s that “Thunk-Plink” again, andthe stone begins to take shape.
Ruth loved nursing school, particularly the parts related to obstetrics and gynecology. Her brother Glenn and sister-in-law Marion brought her out to Denver when she was 20 to do her affiliation at Children’s Hospital. Imagine the twenty year old girl from rural Nebraska coming all alone to the “big city” of Denver. How terrified she must have been at first. But she persevered, she struggled through her loneliness, and she came to one of her life’s greatest passions: that of helping new creatures to be born into the world.
When her affiliation ended, Glenn and Marion rejoined Ruth; they had a few extra days and took Mom on a much deserved mini-vacation into the Colorado high country. What an eye popper that was for my Mom. From the rolling plains of Nebraska to the snowcapped crags and pine forests of the Rocky Mountains. I can hear her say then as she often did during my childhood, “Oh, my God, how at home I am in this beautiful place.” Indeed, another lifelong passion took hold of Ruth in those few precious days. “Thunk-Plink”, good girl, Ruth, find renewed strength and new passions through challenging experiences. My Mom met my Father at a small wedding. As they used to say in those days, my Mom “stood up” for a girlfriend from nursing school, Betty, and my Dad “stood up” for a medical school pal, Arnie Krause, when the two of them got married. It was just the five of them, Ruth, Tom, Betty, Arnie, and the preacher; the marriage took place in Omaha. That night Ruth and Tom got to know each other on a train ride back to Lincoln.
And, there began a truly great love story. We know it was great because we had the opportunity to read their love letters that my Mom had saved. There were two thick bundles; one from Mom to Dad and one from Dad to Mom, both sorted out chronologically over their 6 month courtship. They are tender and sweet, full of self-doubt at first, but rise to the heights of self-confidence and mutual passion in the last letters dated 10 days before their marriage. With one voice, Cindy, Tim, and I have declared those letters sacred to our parents and their love story; they will be buried with my Mother today.
“Opposites attract” everybody says, and there is no doubt that my Mother and Father came from vastly different backgrounds and families. It is no secret that they had their problems along the way, several separations, strong differences of opinion and approach that caused them both great emotional pain and suffering through probably a couple of decades of their lives. Despite the pain and even separation, they persevered together and grew to appreciate and respect their differences, and found new bonds of mature love in their golden years. “Thunk-Plink” Actually, I think that was at least two “Thunk-Plink’s”, maybe three.
Though Ruth had a nursing career that brought her much satisfaction and that helped put her husband through medical school, she definitely wanted her own children. I think my Dad always said that it should be an even number, two or four; they got to two and were half way to four when I think my Mom said something like “enough is enough, Tom, and too much is more than enough.” So, they compromised at three which was just perfect.
What hard work it must have been in those years, though. Think about it! Dad in medical school, Mom working full time as a nurse, and suddenly a family is on the way. My sister, Cindy, was born during medical school and I was born during my Dad’s medical residency. There was so little income and so many needs with a growing family and tuition. My Mom’s nursing income basically supported the family during those years. Dad did do a two year stint in the Navy before college—Mom always said, “Thank God for the GI Bill, at least it paid the tuition.” “Thunk-Plink”
Our little brother, Tim, was born during my Dad’s first medical practice in a small farming community in south central Nebraska, not too far from the Colorado border. It is hard to be a physician in a “one-doc” town—you are on call 24 hours/7 days a week. It is hard to be the wife of a physician in a “one-doc” town, too, especially with three small children. Your husband is either at work or being called back to work most of the time while you keep the house, raise the children, and are busy “keeping up appearances.” Let’s face it; it is a small town where everybody knows “your business”, so to speak, especially the business of their new physician. “Thunk-Plink” It was frustrating to both Dad and Mom. When they decided to pull the plug my Mom had no doubt about where she wanted to go—“Let’s go to Denver”, she said, “It is a big city, you can go into a practice with other physicians, and”, this is the most important part, “it is close to the mountains!” she says. So, the Powell’s moved to Colorado in July, 1957.
The years during our childhood, while not without some struggles and emotional pain, were by and large happy. Our Mother and Father bought and improved a small cabin in the mountains. Nothing fancy, mind you; many folks like to talk about their house with “three bedrooms and a bath”. My folks used to joke that our cabin was “three rooms and a path”—yep, that is exactly what it was: three small rooms and a path out to the outhouse. Oh, it was so cold climbing out of bed and traveling that short footpath at night to do your business!! But we all loved that place more than I can say; we each have our own treasured memories of the cabin, the friends and the events that we shared there.
We took our bicycles up to the cabin one time. Though it had been years since my Mother was on a bike, she climbed aboard and took off down the dirt road that led up to the cabin. And, I do mean that literally, the road came up a hill to the cabin, and she took off going down the road—pretty fast I might add. As we all say, “accidents happen”, well, my Mom crashed the bike into a tree at the bottom of the hill. She sprained the carpel arch in her right hand—it was very painful. She struggled for many long weeks in a cast till it healed. It was one of several physical injuries she sustained during those years including a concussion and blood clots in the veins of her legs. I still remember the kid next door who kicked the football shouting, “Look out, Mrs. Powell”, but that football hit her hard in the head resulting in a concussion that took several weeks to resolve. My Mom knew physical pain at various points in her life, but she struggled through them without much complaint, and always bounced back to her activities as a wife and a Mother. “Thunk-Plink”
I remember my Auntie, Mom’s sister, Lois, and her husband, Gary, came to visit us when we were all growing up. They spent a week with us in Colorado. We went to the mountains, of course. It was a big group so it took more than one car. My Aunt Lois and Uncle Gary went with my Mom in her 1956 Plymouth Belvedere. My Mom loved to go fast; frankly she usually broke the law by speeding. I had to help her through a court appearance in her early 80’s for speeding in a school zone--$328 ticket!! Anyway, my Mom took Lois and Gary over Loveland Pass. Now, this was in 1963, long before the Eisenhower and Johnson tunnels were built—long before I-70 even existed. Even today, Loveland Pass is not for the faint of heart—narrow, steep, lots of hairpin turns. But my Mom flew over that pass like the proverbial “Bat out of Hell”—it really frightened the shit out of my Uncle Gary. I know that is true because he could not wait to find a toilet when he got back home. “Thunk-Plink”, only this time, I think it was for my Uncle Gary.
I remember well an expression that both my Mom and Dad used a lot—“Little kids, little problems. Big kids, big problems.” Well, by golly, guess what? Their three little angels, Cindy, Dan, and Tim grew up!! Teenagers, argh!, don’t they know it all, or at least they think they do. Pity the parents of all teenagers, there is always some drama and heartbreak through those years.
My sister Cindy always was a dare devil. She liked all the hot guys that sort of scared my parents. She would drive up to the cabin and spend a few nights on her own. She had this eight track tape in her first car, yes eight track—sorry, Cindy, to date you like this—and she used to play the music loud and sort of drive to the music. Cindy used to jump into the cold mountain lakes in a skimpy one piece swimming suit and swim from one side to another. Do you even have any idea how cold those mountain lakes are? That water was snow and ice just moments ago!! My Mom worried about her a lot at times. Once my Mother was visiting my sister and family in San Francisco; they were on the Golden Gate Bridge looking out at the current in the water entering the bay from the ocean. It was turbulent with large waves hitting the south tower of the bridge. My sister had told Ruth a little earlier that she had been training and was going to “swim the Golden Gate”, in other words, swim in the turbulent water under the bridge that they were currently looking at. My Mom just stared into the black water; Cindy said you could tell she was agonizing over the impending swim across that long span of water. And, of the course, Mom couldn’t forget the fact that my sister was now a mother herself and had two small children. “Thunk-Plink”
At seventeen my brother Tim got his first car, a Sunbeam Tiger, 260 h.p. V-8 engine with a hydraulic clutch that I could barely push to the floorboard. Now, the kicker here: this was a two-seat sports car with a V-8 engine. The old expression, “Like Father, like Son”—oh, no, in this case, it is “Like Mother, like Son”. My Mother knew that car was a speed machine. The first time my brother peeled rubber in front of our house, my mother looked at my father and said, “We will never see that child alive again.” Shortly after getting it, my brother took my Father out for a highway drive. It was the first and last drive my Father took in that car. He said that he started to get very nervous when they hit 120 miles per hour and they were still accelerating. As I recall, he was running for the bathroom upon their return, just like Uncle Gary and my mother had that “Oh No!” expression on her face. “Thunk-Plink”
At the age of 24 I came out as a gay man to my parents. It was 1978 for God’s sake and it blew my parents away. BIG THUNK-PLINK! The first reaction was very natural, it was sort of like, “Well, let’s fix it; let’s fix Dan.” They sent me to a very nice psychologist. I met with him every week for about 6 months. We talked about a lot of things…he really helped me sort out some issues. I am not sure I was entirely comfortable with my homosexuality yet, but I was out and with the psychologist’s help, I quit shaking like a leaf every time I told somebody that I was gay. The psychologist dismissed me, he said, “I think our work is done for now and I think you will be just fine.” My Dad later told me that he and Mom went in to meet with the psychologist after he had finished working with me. My Mom was still pretty upset by it all, let’s face it, the guy didn’t fix me!! He said to them, “Dr. and Mrs. Powell, you have a very nice son who is a fairly well-adjusted homosexual man. If you are having problems with that I have some time on my calendar.” I think my Mom did see him for a while after that; it was hard on her. “Thunk-Plink”
Of course, as fate would have it, Ruth also eventually had to learn to deal with the man in my life, Douglas. By the way, we have been together nearly 30 years so they knew each other very well. Both Pisces, they had similar temperaments but very different ways of looking at the world. I told Douglas very early on that if my Mom was thinking it, it would be coming out of her mouth, and that you just never knew exactly what you might hear. I told him, “you just have to be prepared and ready to give it back, a spade for a spade, and my Mom will learn to respect you.” Little did I know how prepared Douglas would be. The second time they met we were all driving up to the Boulder Dinner Theater, which is about a 45 minute car ride. That is about 44 minutes too long to be stuck in the car with someone that you don’t really know, someone who’s gay and out there without care. From the front seat my Mom pops the question, “Douglas, when normal people break up, they get a divorce. What do gay people do?” Now, remember this is the second time Mom and Douglas have met; the first time was for about 5 minutes. From the backseat, Douglas calmly shoots back the answer, “Well, Ruth, typically one shits in the other one’s shoes, breaks all the china, and leaves.” In the rearview mirror, you can see my Father smirking, but it looked like my Mother had been hit in the head with a croquet mallet. Right then I knew, it was just like Bette Davis used to say, “Buckle your seatbelts, it’s going to be a bumpy ride!” As many of you know the Defense of Marriage Act was overturned by the Supreme court in July and after almost 30 years together, Douglas and I were legally married on September 3 in San Diego. I am so glad my Mom got to know that; she was so happy and proud of both of us. “Thunk-Plink”
Ruth had a favorite cousin, sort of a third cousin if you will, Esther Kreuscher, who lived in Beatrice, Nebraska. Esther traveled to Denver and lived with us during her gall bladder surgery and we often spent our vacations with her in the mountains. I think Esther loved the mountains all most as much as my Mother did. The time came, however, when Esther passed. She left my Mother a nice inheritance. My Mother decided to do two things with it—re-decorate the house, and somewhat to my Father’s dismay, went on a trip with her bible student group to Israel.
I think Ruth always longed to travel; she and my Dad did take many trips to Canada and various places throughout the states. But Mom always wanted to go to the Holy Lands. This inheritance gave her the opportunity to express her adventuresome side, maybe even her fearless side, and just go. It was during a period of some unrest in the Middle East, certainly not as bad as today; but worse than usual for that time period. My Mother has always been a very spiritual person. She got her interest in spiritual matters from her Father, grandpa Willie. As children, we ventured into many different churches and faiths. I always like to tell people when asked about my religion that I am a confirmed MethoBapTerian. Anyway, Ruth evolved away from organized religions and found her Bible Students group. This group was very important to her and all the people in her group have loved and supported her throughout the second half of her life. Many friends from her Bible Students group are her today. I think Mom’s spirituality grew exponential after studying with her group and her trip to Israel. Her thinking in spiritual matters matured and evolved and it helped her to grow as a person into a calmer, more patient person. Though she remained a speed demon as frequently documented by photo radar cameras!! “Thunk-Plink”
My Father retired when my Mother, who was younger than he, turned 65. He was a smart man; he knew that would vest Ruth in all of his benefits, including a pension and lifelong healthcare. Mom and Dad continued to travel for a few years, but Dad’s congestive heart failure got progressively worse as he neared 70. One day Ruth came home and Dad handed her the car keys and said, “I’m not going to drive anymore.” We think his shortness of breath was keeping the oxygen from his brain and that he got lost that day in the car and had a hard time finding his way home. Dad was placed into home hospice and Ruth became his primary care giver. They shared so many bitter sweet moments in those months talking about plans for his service and his many memories of growing up and then raising his own family. Slowly, but surely, however, Dad got progressively worse. The great love story that had weathered the storms and managed to shine brightly in the golden years was coming to an end so graphically and so painfully as my Mother struggled with the last of her energy to keep him and their love story alive. On the surface she appeared strong and brave, but we knew she was devastated by tremendous pain and a sense of profound loss. “Thunk-Plink”
Over time, some of the sadness and pain of loss diminished and Ruth grew closer to her original family, her brothers, sisters, their spouses and their children, her nieces and nephews. My brother Tim and I shared many wonderful trips “home to Nebraska” to visit Mom’s family. I recall so many special moments around Lois’ dining room table playing cards and laughing about the little things that families remember together. It was here that I learned a little secret about my grandma Grace, the hard working industrious matriarch from the beginning of my story. Grace, sometimes stern and straight-laced; she cheated at cards. “Oh, yes,” Lois would say, “if she was dealing she would put the ace on the bottom of the deck to make sure she got it, and boy, could she count the cards, too.” We would all laugh, proceed to play competitively and argue about when this or that card “should have” been played. “Why didn’t you play that ace in the third hand when the queen came out?” I can still hear those questions. We all grew closer as we made the most of those years together. “Thunk-Plink”
In April, 2011, Douglas and I were visiting friends in San Diego. I brought my computer and I was checking email one day toward the end of our trip. My Mom had sent me an email asking me to call her, that she had “lost my number.” Well, if you know anything about Ruth, you knew that she was the walking and talking telephone book; she never wrote anything down, phone numbers, addresses, birthdates, all stored in her brain. Lois always said to me, “Your Mother never forgets anything!” As soon as we got home we took Mom to the emergency room. They ruled out stoke and eventually decided that the combination of a narcotic and a sleep aid, Ambien, that her doctor had put Ruth on 6 weeks earlier was causing the problem. They suggested, however, that we take Mom for some in-depth testing at the Memory Clinic. Ruth was tested twice over a period of about 8 months, and went from mild cognitive impairment to mild to moderate dementia. I could tell she was hurt by the diagnosis, she almost felt ashamed. She would say, “Nobody in my family has ever had dementia, I can’t believe I would be the first!” But my Mother, the independent, smart woman, who was never afraid of anything and always charged forward through any situation, got busy. She made lists, she kept a calendar, she wrote notes, anything, anything, that would help her to remember what she wanted to do, who she was seeing when, and who had the next birthday. She was not going to let this defeat her. We could see that she got quieter, which was also uncharacteristic of Ruth, and I think that, too, was an attempt to adapt—Mom didn’t want to repeat herself over and over like people with short term memory loss often do, so she just didn’t talk as much. She was very aware of what was happening. “Thunk-Plink”, again, I think this was two or three of them.
Independent to the end, she was determined to stay in her own home when she learned she had lung cancer. She entered home hospice but made the most out of her four good months by seeing people, going out when she could, and telling everybody how much she loved them.
If you knew Ruth long enough, you saw her go from that diamond in the rough to the strong, gleaming, beautiful stone that is a gem-quality diamond. All those years with God as he chipped away at the rough and unbalanced edges of the stone Mom just opened her heart to him and said, “Bring it on, Lord; make me the person you want me to be.” She was always generous and giving, to a fault, always loving, always independent and strong. But God removed some of the impatience, intolerance, the tendency to jump to conclusions or make a hasty judgment. He smoothed and softened the edges to reveal the person that we all came to love so much, the sweet and loving woman that was Ruth.
It is with one voice that my sister, brother and I say to you today, “Please celebrate in your hearts, despite the pain of loss, the wonderful and beautiful life of Ruth.”
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