Mom was preceded in death by her mother and father, Christine Louise Wilcox Fulton and Robert Theodore Fulton, of Stamford; and by her husband, John Joseph Ruscoe, of Norwalk. She is survived by her brother, Robert Dale Fulton, sister-in-law, Barbara Fulton, and godson, Robert John Fulton, of Danbury; and by her three children: daughter Jeanne Ruscoe Smith and her husband, Eric Smith, of Akron, OH; daughter Lisa Ruscoe Piatt and her husband, Michael Piatt, of Monroe; and son, Robert John Ruscoe, and his wife, Erissa Thurman Ruscoe, of Danbury; and grandchildren: Daniel Matthew Smith of Akron, OH; Lucy Isabella Piatt of Monroe; Jamie Beaurline, of Pittsburgh, PA; and Christian Beaurline, Kadena AFB, Okinawa, Japan.
Mom was proud to be a Registered Nurse. She started her nursing career in a delivery room, welcoming souls into this world by caring for newborns. She concluded that career in a long-term care facility, helping souls exit this world in comfort and dignity, caring for people late in life. Between these two ends of her career, she raised a family, but she never stopped being a Registered Nurse. “Once a nurse, always a nurse,” she would proudly declare to anyone bold enough to suggest she had “retired” to raise her children.
Mom loved her children beyond measure: my sister, Lisa (who tirelessly and selflessly cared for her, and fiercely advocated for her, throughout her final illness); my brother, Bob (her only son, whom she adored), and me (her teeny, premature firstborn, first to leave the nest and living farthest away). Mom was happiest when she was with all three of her children together. She could never get and give enough hugs, nor hear the words, “I love you,” enough from her children. And we loved her back. The hole in our hearts from the loss of our mother by degrees during her final illness can never be filled, but her memory as our first, most important, human connection can never be erased.
Mom was the first person to answer our endless preschool questions. She taught us how to tie our shoes, how to brush our teeth, how to bundle up in winter, and how to handle bullies. She taught us how to say our bedtime prayers. Mom taught us by example to love books, the outdoors, and music. She lives in our memories and in who we are as adults.
Mom loved summer sunshine, beaches, and cookouts. She loved chocolate, popcorn, ice cream, pizza, chili dogs, and Dilly Bars. She loved Sinatra, long walks, and summer vacations with her family. Mom had an eye for design, color, and detail. Whether sewing outfits for her girls; embroidering, knitting, or crocheting; crafting in stained glass or tile; she was an artist, though she never would boast to call herself an artist. She was petite, pretty, and always took care to look her very best. She had impeccable taste. She was a beautiful woman with a beautiful, sensitive, caring, and creative soul.
Mom was never idle, always optimistic, and she had seemingly boundless energy. She suffered from Alzheimer’s disease these last few years, and she fought bravely. She was cheerful, sociable, and thankful for her life until the very end. Rest in peace, Mom. God has made you whole again, we know you are safe in His care, and we know you are with Grammy and Poppy again. Our hearts are broken today. We miss you so very much, but we know we will see you again.
In lieu of flowers, the family requests donations to the Alzheimer's Association, act.alz.org/donate.
Partager l'avis de décès
v.1.8.18