One of the things I’m most annoyed about with age is the loss of old friends. I’m not just getting older. My friends are too. Sometimes it’s just space, distance, and travel limitations that make being close harder. Sometimes it’s recalcitrant beliefs. But as we get older, the ultimate distance is death.

At 72, I’m still asking who I might be when I grow up. It’s a different list than it was 20 years ago. But I know for a certainty I’m not there. When I lose people who I would like to be like. it unmoores me. We lost Ruth Rackster, right before Christmas.

I met Ruth Rackster through her daughter, Krystal, at St Francis’s Episcopal Church in Chesterton, IN. She was sitting with Elena, Krystal’s third child. Elena had a huge thing for ladybugs. She’d found some that had died and was inconsolate. But Ruth was there, consoling her. Somehow that turned into a lap that smoothed away the horror of the moment.

Ruth was a beautiful person, especially as she aged. But what she did best was radiate calm. I’m not sure if it was strictly a Christian thing on her part. It’s just what she brought to the party. She didn’t try to fix things, or tell you what to do, or what you should have done. She brought her presence and warmth to each situation, and that was real comfort in acceptance of what was going on, and of yourself.

It was a well-needed gift. The Levis had some hard times. Ruth was there, and she was a calm path past the current hardships.

I remember sitting at her table, tea in hand, over and over as she pulled me back into the light.

I’m glad she got to see her grandchildren grown into such excellent people. I’m glad she got to see Krystal marry the love of her life. I’m glad got to live in the light she radiated, as she illuminated us.

I hope I grow up to be like her.

Here’s your wings Ruth. Fligh high.