If I could sign up for Ruth Pomaranc's life, I would do it in a heartbeat. She was a great person and had a great life that we should all envy and honor. Although I am sad that she's gone, it's impossible to think of her life, or her death, as tragic. Instead, she lived a life filled with love, kindness and humor. It seemed to me complete, and ended at reasonable time, in a loving way.
Most important though, was how she lived. Ruth was so completely Ruth-like, and now that we can look back over the whole experience, it seems to me now that she was perfect, perfectly Ruth, and what a character, and in many ways, really a surprise. Lucky her, and lucky us.
It turns out, for example, that as erudite and tasteful as Ruth liked to be, she was a huge fan of mystery stories. She liked good ones, and had a critical eye, but she also loved goofy ones too. She loved all sorts of them.
Well, me, too. I can't even imagine how many books she sent my way. Every time she came around it seemed she brought more, and not just one, she brought handfuls of them. The sheer tonnage of books that we shared was immense.
In many ways it added up to a secret life. We knew characters and stories in common, entire fictional milieus. She, of course, always had a wise crack about the author and an opinion about the exact quality of the writing (she hated Kinsey Malone but Kaye Scarpetta--there was a character). If the book had some unusual provenance, all the better. She loved books that came from England, no matter who wrote them.
The best thing about it was that books provided us with conversation during the exercise of our other secret, mutual experience. It turns out that Ruth was a connoisseur of Martinis. One time I made the mistake of trying to serve her vodka and, well, I can only say it never happened again. Beefeaters Gin, thank you very much. She loved them with anchovy olives. She had a special brand.
Now, it's not that she was a big drinker. It's much more that she was vivacious. She wanted excellence and for life to be fun and beautiful. If she could somehow have been an exotic passenger on cruise ships at the beginning of the last century, a femme fatale, she would have been thrilled. She tried to bring a little of that sensibility to every day and made the world richer for it.
Ruth wanted to be, and was, the kind of person that had opinions about her books, was up to date in her politics, and knew how she liked her martinis. She was dedicated to making each moment a little bit fancy--fancy-schmancy to her children.
That was, really, the essence of Ruth. She was a challenge in many ways but, in the final analysis, she was an incredibly sweet person who was trying to do well. Her energy was devoted to making the world around her just a little bit more than it actually was, to brighten it with her imagination and desire for life.
It's sad that we don't get any new Ruth stories, and I don't ever expect to have her equal as a martini partner, but what is left is the exquisite memory of the wonderful experiences we had with Ruth. How nicely she related to the kids, her insistence on decorum, and that pushy desire to express her love. It all seemed commonplace when she was here. Now she seems like a precious jewel to hold in our hearts and minds forever.
Ruth Pomaranc died on March 8 in the year 2000 at 73 years old. She left behind a happy family and a lot of people that loved her very much. She did good works and was a pleasant contributor to the lives of us all. We will all miss her and cherish her forever.
Especially me.
(TQ White II, son-in-law)
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