Sunday, February 19, 2023
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The last time I spoke to Mrs. Ross she asked me to call her "Lois". Now I will have you know that I am not going to go around and start calling Mrs. Ross "Lois" even if she told me too. Mrs. Ross is Mrs. Ross and Mrs. Ross could and will never be "Lois". Period. Out of respect.
Sometimes you meet people for the first time and you know right away you have someone in front of you that you know is just all right. She was she. Everything about her let you know that she was she. She was who she was. No pretending. Straight-forward she. You just knew that. You admired exactly that. And then you joined in the warmth of her being without her (or you) ever having to lose a word.
For me, as a teenager and beyond, Mrs. Ross was always one together lady. Never a recollection that something could not be done. It just got done (or later, as I heard, got "hauled"). When I found out that Mrs. Ross worked in the commissary warehouse and drove a forklift, I asked her if it weren't too heavy work for her (not to mention the fact that in the 80ies, heavy labor was definitely still considered a "man's job")! In response, I remember Mrs. Ross showing off her muscles to us, grining and posing sideways like Popeye. Back in the States, Mrs. Ross exchanged the forklift for a truck! How else could a girl get "things" done!
I got a lot of fond memories of Mrs. Ross and I am sad that I could not hug her in person one last time before she passed.
Our sincere condolences to you, dear Sandy, Ronnie and the entire Ross Family.
With you all in heart and mind, SaBeUsh
(478) 250-1585
(478) 250-1585