For the final three months of her 84 years, my mother-in-law Ruth Vincent lived with Linda and me, dispensing the wisdom springing from a lifetime of hard work and sometimes hard knocks, and from a vast store of good common sense. All of that, along with some rich times of fellowship that endeared her even more to my wife and me, and which will endure in our memories as long as our lives last.
Don KirklandShe died on Aug. 18, only a day after the ravages of bone cancer had made necessary her move from our home to the McCall hospice facility in Simpsonville.
It was fitting that her parents named her Ruth, a biblical name which in the Hebrew language means “friend.”
And that she was — to all whose lives intersected with hers in the textile industry in Lancaster where after a long career she retired as a supervisor, and at the rural High Point Baptist Church where she and her family were members and leaders for decades.
I was a youngster when my father accepted the call to High Point in the 1950s and Ruth was — and would remain for many years — “Mrs. Vincent” to me. At the ripe old age of 15, I fell in love with her daughter, and after dating for eight years through high school and college we married and began a relationship which has flourished for 43 years.
It was Ruth’s love for her home in Lancaster, for her siblings and other family members, and especially for her church that made it difficult — and at times we believed impossible — for her to make the move to the Greenville area where we, along with her son and his family, live.
Finally, she recognized her own inability to live alone, despite the help of neighbors and others who looked after her needs with constancy and compassion.
Her life with us was much the same as her life in Lancaster. Her always active mind engaged itself in much reading — from novels to biographies to the Bible, though not necessarily in that order. In a basket beside her chair, she kept devotional materials and her books of choice. Lately, she had been reading Billy Graham’s autobiography, “Just As I Am,” but, as she became weaker, declared that Billy’s book was “too heavy” for her to hold.
She prayed often and asked us to pray with and for her. She did not want to become a burden to her family or to anyone else. What a foolish fear that was. She longed for heaven, but was saddened by the thought of leaving family and friends.
In her last days, her mind still clear and her spirit strong, she drew family members to her side to give reassurances of her love for us all and to remind us that as family we must love each other no matter what. She put great emphasis on the “no matter what.”
She was a seasoned practitioner of that unconditional love akin to the love of Christ that sets no bounds, that knows no limits.
She took the disappointments and frustrations of life — the setbacks that came her way — in stride, always realistic without losing her idealism. On more than one occasion, she told Linda and me, “You must learn to accept what is.” Often we have repeated that sage advice to each other, and in our prayers have asked God to help us do just that.
Linda and I, along with others in our family, will realize even more fully in days to come the impact of this dear woman on our lives. She was rightly named Ruth. She was our friend — and much more. Just as appropriately, she could have been named Grace.