Anne

On the evening of June 5th, in the corner of the world in which I was seated for the moment, the sunset was preceded by a rainbow.  It wasn’t raining where I was, and it was barely sunny at all for that matter.  I remember thinking, “How odd for us to be seeing a rainbow tonight.”  A rainbow is defined in several ways, including a bow of prismatic light in the heavens opposite the sun, a visionary goal, a diverse membership, a multi-colored arrangement.  This particular rainbow in the sky wasn’t a large rainbow, lighting up the entire sky.  Rather, it was a humble, perfect half rainbow.  A rainbow that seemed to whisper, “To be continued…”  A rainbow that left an unfinished chapter. A rainbow aglow with pink. 

On June 6th, those of us gathered in this room, had our breathes taken away by the passing of the most incredible, wise, angelic, stoic, kind, courageous, Anne Montgomery-Ruohonen.  What that means to each of us can’t be told by anyone except the storytellers, our individual hearts and minds, the true keepers of the memories and bonds we had with Anne.  I’ve never known a woman like this.  Her stories are not typical.  The people around her glowing because they carry a piece of her.  Lives altered because of her presence in them.  

She was a savior in the darkest hours, a guiding light when decisions were hard, a bringer of joy to her family at all times, a brilliant business partner, a maker of memories for her adored grandchildren, a humble spirit who could seamlessly blend in with the scenery when desired, and demand the rooms attention effortlessly when required.  She had superpowers.  She was an earthly Queen.  She was Granny.  She was pure magic. 

For me, the storytellers in my life’s chapter with Anne, began spreading Anne’s spirit long before she passed, and before I knew her. My first memories of conversations with Maggie, Sean, Lauren, Rhianna & Scott, all included Anne.  It was days after we moved, undoubtedly with Anne’s divine guiding hand, from living across the street from Maggie and her family, to living across the street from Sean, Scott and their families, that I first saw her.  Her pink glow exited the light blue Chrysler mini-van gracefully,  with her Skip at her side, and she was greeted with a flurry of small grandchildren arms and hands wrapped around her tiny frame.   Ah, that is Granny, I thought. I couldn’t wait to meet her. 

From here, we started the dance of connection.  She looked at me, as she looked at each of you, read my soul and connected in a raw way that analyzed my mind, understood where to meet me in conversation, and knew the type of guidance I needed at just the right time.  Our conversations were often rushed, interrupted hundreds of times by tiny voices in need, but always complete.  I certainly can’t pretend that our connection was unique, as I believe Anne connected with everyone she knew in the same exact way.  To know her, to be loved by her, was to benefit from her magic. It was only one of her many superpowers.

When pregnant with Leo, Anne knew I was carrying a son, before anyone else.  Anne knew I was carrying a baby girl now, before anyone else.  Anne told me in one my weakest moments (which I’m very good at hiding, by the way) to remember to take some time for myself, that Mom needs breaks too.  She stared right at me with that, “You aren’t fooling me.  I see you” look.  I listened. 

She opened up her homes and heart to our family, shared her love for the beach with us, created some of the best summer memories in recent years with us. We chatted endlessly in lawn chairs, on the Easkey Lane she had brought us to, about entrepreneurial dreams, real estate strategies, motherhood, raising sons, marriage, education, what is important in life, and how fleeting it can be.  She took me, my husband, and our children into her divine realm, she brought us to her children before she was gone, because she knew we all needed each other then, and would make memories in this beautiful life after she was gone. 

I couldn’t have looked up to Anne more, I couldn’t have had enough conversations with her, I couldn’t ever get enough of Anne’s glow.  She was an earthly angel and to me, to each of us, in our stories, now lives her spirit.   The piece I hold is a small bit of what she bestowed on this Earth while she was here.  

I will never know a woman like this again.  Will any of us? The people around her will always be glowing because they carry a piece of her.  Our lives have all been altered because of her presence in them.  

The challenge is now ours as we work to adjust our sails and our connections to feel the work she will continue to do in each of our lives. 

She will continue to be our savior in the darkest hours, a guiding light when decisions are hard, a bringer of joy to her family at all times, a brilliant business partner, a maker of memories for her adored grandchildren, a humble spirit who will seamlessly blend in with the scenery when desired and demand the rooms attention effortlessly when required.  

Anne, just as your perfect, humble half rainbow showed us on the night of your last Earthly sunset, your light has left our eyes, but your work will continue.  Your strength was dim, your heart weary from an unjust fight, but your soul is now afire with the freeing of pain and the power of divine intervention.  

We love you Granny.  As you told me, I now whisper to you, “Rest and recharge. You need a break too.” We will be all here awaiting your magic, divine intervention and superpowers. 

I love you,

Courtney