Some Things Never Change

I attended the funeral of an old co-worker and friend yesterday. I had worked with her and her daughter Judy, for about 25 years. They were the opening/lunch cooks at the same restaurant where I was the opening/lunch waitress. I referred to them as the "Judy & Ruthie Show." Both women were such hard workers, it was a pleasure to work with them.
All ten surviving children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren were there. Also in attendance were six members of the Wachsmuth family. (The family who owned and operated the restaurant where we worked together.) Also there was Ruthie, the head waitress who trained me. I was the last waitress she trained. Ruthie is 92 now.
Being with this group of people really took me back in time. So much is different...and yet...some things are just the same. Once strong and quick moving, Ruthie now uses a walker to help her get around. The Wachsmuth "boys" (now in their 60's) each took one of Ruthie's arms and helped her up the hill to the grave site as I tagged along behind toting her walker. After the service, when they were ready to drive Ruthie back home, she pulled me close and asked, "So kiddo...how's your mom?" Looking into her now cloudy blue eyes I replied, "She's getting weaker...but she's doing okay." (My pat answer to that question.) I remember when those cloudy eyes were clear and sparkly. When she would pull out her little note pad from her pocket and read off our side work for the day. "Carolyn and Anneliese...shrimp, Gretchen...lemons, Debbie...plate detail." Plate detail. What could that mean? It meant that I was to wash the several hundred plates that adorned the walls of the restaurant. Climbing up on chairs, using mild soap and water...washing and drying them, one small section at a time. On my first day, Ruthie had me carry stew bowls filled with water. For at least an hour. I practiced carrying them and setting them down on the tables. Over and over again. Once she felt I was doing okay with the water, Ruthie gave me one table. One "two top." The first guy who sat there ordered oyster stew. Okay. I brought it to him...no problem. The next guy who sat at my table also ordered oyster stew. And the third guy...and the fourth. When my fifth customer came in and ordered clam chowder...I was thrilled! Wow! Something different! (Same bowl, same stew pot, just filled with chowder base instead of oysters.) When one of the other girls asked Ruthie how she thought I was doing, her reply was, "A new broom always sweeps clean." I tried very hard to impress her. And in the end, I believe I did. Many times as we were "in the weeds" (extra busy during the lunch rush) and we were standing in the stew line waiting for our turns to have the boss fill our stew bowls...she would turn to me and say, "All this...and heaven too!"
It's been over 20 years since we had all worked together. Ruthie retired after putting in 50 years at the Oyster Bar. The boys still go to her home and visit with her...sometimes helping with the yard work. Their relationship was more than employer/employee. She had worked for their grandfather and their fathers...before she worked for them. In fact...she loved to talk about how she used to change their diapers when they were babies. (Which put me in a tough spot when she told me to do one thing and then they would tell me to do something quite different. Who should I listen to? The one who was in charge long before they were even born...or the one who signed my paycheck?)
So much has changed since those days. Time has flown. The next generation has taken over the business...and very few of us "old girls" are still around. We had been a great team. Helping each other over some rough spots. Both personally and professionally. Seeing the boys stepping up to bring Ruthie to the service, helping her up to the grave site, watching Judy insist that Ruthie sit next to her in the front, me standing behind them as backup...surrounded by the rest of the family...I realize that some things don't change. We still are a great team.