| Just in
from the garden... look at that smile |
Thanksgiving 1983 | ||||
 |
 |
||||
| Memorial donations may be made to | |||||
| Millsaps College | Stamford Hospital Foundation | ||||
 |
 |
||||
 1947-1949
|
 |
 USAF Flight Surgeon Captain |
|||
 |
 |
||||
 |
 |
||||
 |
|||||
 |
 |
||||
 |
 |
||||
 |
|||||
 |
 |
||||
 |
|||||
 |
|||||
We've stopped giving hackers free email addresses fro SPAM
Sorry, but you'll have to write these down....
Spoken with love by Katherine Ridgway
December 3, 2005
My name is Katherine and I am Walters oldest daughter. I'm grateful to have the chance to say a few words about the kindest person I'll ever know. My dad was the ultimate Southern Gentlemen. I have a lifetime of warm, happy memories spending time with him at the kitchen table with my friends, or in his garden, on the back porch, or driving around in his beat up old car.
Out of all my memories, there are several that really speak to who he was as a person... about his kindness and generosity.
I remember once when I went with him in his new gray Chevy Malibu to do an errand. When we came out of the hardware store we had been in, a woman was standing next to his car looking a little sheepish. As we approached, she explained that she was waiting for us because she had accidentally scratched the door of his car and wanted to give him her insurance information.
My dad looked at her and said, you know what -- thank you. She look shocked and amazed. Then he said, You did me a big favor. You see, this is a new car and Ive been driving around so worried about getting a scratch on it. Now it has one. Its not so bad, and now I dont have to worry anymore.
You could tell she was wondering if he was crazy, but she thanked him and happily went on her way.
His lesson for me that day was, Don' get so upset about the little scratches in life.
That car was the source of another gift of the spirit as well.
I think it was a 68 Chevy Malibu and by the time I was in high school, that thing was in bad shape. It had a rusted door and a hole in the floor, but he loved it.
I remember being so embarrassed to be dropped off or picked up in that car. He could have afforded any car he wanted, but he chose to drive that old bomb. After complaining to him about his car for the millionth time, he gently pointed out that anyone that was going to judge me by the car I arrived in, wasn't worth knowing.
He taught me to judge people by their character and not by their clothes or their cars.
This is who he was. He was a genuine person who didn't value material things. He valued people.
He used to tell stories about his friend Bellzoni, who worked in the cafeteria at the hospital, or his friend Mr. Hutzinger, who was a corporate leader. My dad didn't care about your status. He cared about you. If you were a friend, you were a friend.
Another memory that really stands out was of him going to work in the wee hours of the morning.
It could be 2am, or 6 am, it didn't matter. When the call came, the routine was always the same.
The phone would ring...I'd hear his shower go on...then I'd hear him walking down the hall, past my room whistling a tune.
It didn't matter the hour, He loved his work. He loved welcoming babies into the world. He loved his patients and they returned that love tenfold.
I can't remember ever going out to a restaurant with that man, without having at least one patient coming up to him with a hug and a smile.
When it came to his work, he'd always say..."I'm a lucky man." But it was more than luck. My dad gave out so much love and caring, it came back to him like a boomerang.
One of the things my dad loved as much as his work, was working in the garden. He'd plan all winter where he was going to plant his rows of vegetables and flowers. He loved to nurture young seedlings and watch them grow.
He was a gentle gardner with a wry sense of humor.
I remember once when a salesman had come to the house and mistook my dad to be the gardener. Dad liked to wear a pair of brown coveralls, and he definitely looked the part.
Well, this arrogant salesman questioned my dad about the doc that owned the big house and what was he like. Then the guy said, so where do I find the doc? Without turning away from his plants or skipping a beat, he said, "Oh, you're talking to him. Needless to say the salesmen left without making a sale.
My dad got such a kick out that.
Even in his illness, he was teaching me things about living. I found a new meaning for compassion. I found out just how fallible we all are. I learned how to accept and forgive on a deeper level.
It was such a gift to be able to take care of him and be a part of his life over the past decade. He would repeat himself a lot and every time he did, we'd just pretend like it was the first time he said it.
When I'd ask "How are you today?", he'd usually respond by saying...
"Well something great happened to me today. I woke up, reached out my arms and when I didn't feel the sides of a box, I knew it was going to be a great day."
Even under circumstances where some people would say he'd lost everything, my dad kept a positive attitude. He had gratitude for his life, right to the last day.
By example, he taught me that every day is a gift, and everyday is an opportunity if you make up you mind to see it that way.
He showed me how to face the aging process with grace and dignity. He didn't want to be a burden to anyone. He never complained. If he were having a really bad day, like when he broke his hip, he's just quietly say... "Aging takes it's toll."
Walter always looked for the silver lining a put his focus there.
My dad left me with a treasure trove of memories that will guide me and comfort me until I see him again. I bet each of you has stock pile of Walter memories too. He was the kind of man that made a difference in this world, just by living his life and touching a lot of peoples hearts.
He was an extraordinary person and you knew it just by being around him.
We are here today to remember him, and if you want to keep his memory alive, I have a few suggestions to get you started.
Next time someone is fighting you for a parking space, give it to them with smile.
Next time you encounter a grumpy check out girl, tell her a joke. She's probably having a bad day and needs a little kindness.
Do something nice for someone who doesn't deserve it.
Take the time to really look into the eyes of those you love and find out how their doing.
Let your inner child out and have some fun.
Don't worry about the little scratches in life.
Celebrate each day.
Spend some time in a garden, and you'll know my dad is with you.
When my dad died, I was hit with the shock and sadness that comes with death. But even bigger than that is an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having had this amazing man as my father.
He always said, "When the good Lord wants me, he knows where to find me."
I believe, after a lifetime of service, my dad is finally home.