My mother is probably the strongest person I’ve ever met in my 35 years on this earth, and odds are she’ll still have taken top honors by the time my chips are cashed in one day.
Mom went into the hospital late last week up in Saskatoon. There’s no need to worry, it’s all good, she went in for an elective surgery at St. Paul’s early on Friday morning and she came home on Monday, no doubt missing the comforts of home like her own bed and perhaps more desirable food.
All the same, I’d be lying if I said there weren’t some tense feelings about the whole situation, even if my family was no-selling it like we usually tend to do with our deepest feelings. No one wants to hear the word ‘surgery’, even if it is an elective one, let alone this close to the holiday season. What if something goes wrong? Does it mean your loved one stays in the hospital through Christmas? Is the recovery time even longer? We’re already living in the midst of a strong second wave of the COVID pandemic in this province, and then you could get THIS dumped on you at the same time? Not cool, man.
Luckily, all went well and Mom’s resting at home and recharging her batteries. After all, Christmas at this point is literally around the corner and I know she wants to be at her best when Christmas Eve finally does arrive.
The inner strength my mother has displayed numerous times throughout her life and throughout the childhoods of my siblings and I really can’t be overstated. This is a woman who overcame sickness and a lengthy hospital stay when she herself was a kid, and through the years took on the title of Head of Household on more than one occasion. Sure, Dad may have had a reputation in some circles and I know of more than a few people whose faces may very well have drained of colour if they were told, “Jack Ruttle wants a word with you”, but make no mistake, Lynda Ruttle was more than capable of ruling the roost with an iron will, and she’s the only woman I know that could put a scare or two into my old man when the situation called for it.
We didn’t have everything when we were kids, and I think it’s safe to say that the Ruttles were firmly a middle-class, blue-collar clan. Hell, sometimes we probably had to strive to achieve that middle class ranking, depending on that month’s income, but my parents never let it show to us kids when there were struggles, and my mother is a very big reason for that. There was always food in the fridge, clothes on our back, and a warm roof over our heads. Sometimes I think back and wonder how Mom managed to pull it off, but she just had a way about her.
It was often Mom’s job to deal with the heavy stuff in our lives, or in the lives of other people, for that matter. She worked in the health care field for many years, including at Milden and Outlook. I know she saw a lot of negative things and certainly witnessed some heartbreaking moments such as declining health in many people that she came to know, but she never brought her work home with her. Family was too important to drag down in the muck that came from her professional life at times.
But on the home front, she could be relied on to help deal with whatever life seemed to deal out. When I had to repeat the eighth grade, she was a source of comfort and answers. When my dog had to be put down, she bore the brunt of being there when Bud took his last breath. Even Jack couldn’t bear to go through that, and I actually remember him in tears promising me, “We’ll get you a new dog, son, okay?”
When my life was heading in a new direction after high school, Mom was the one who helped navigate me through those unknown waters. It was 2005 and I’d just been accepted to the Victoria Motion Picture School out in British Columbia; quite a far cry for a small-town prairie boy, huh? Whether it was figuring out all the student loan financials or landing a place to rent, Mom was there. Finally, when the minivan was packed up that September and it was time to leave, it was her that took me out to Victoria to start this new chapter. I know it wasn’t easy for her, and she’s told me on more than one occasion that she cried on the ferry ride back to the mainland, but I suppose it’s all a part of being a parent; watching your kids go down new paths and experience new adventures.
There are probably about a million other examples I could provide that paint a picture of how strong and resilient this woman is, but I think you get the picture. Now that my mother’s surgery is behind her, I know she’s looking forward to the holidays and getting together to experience all of it with family.
She certainly deserves to enjoy everything that the Christmas season brings, and I hope it’s a great one for her.
Love ya, Ma.
For this week, that’s been the Ruttle Report.
