My Personal Mt. Rushmore of Bourbons

Who are my personal George, Thomas, Teddy and Abe?
Read this to find out.

As Presidents Day Weekend is upon us, and next week our local Arts Center has a fundraiser with a bourbon tasting and silent auction among the itinerary, I got inspired. And then I saw an article that asked various bartenders what they thought were The Mt. Rushmore of Bourbons. I read the article, and honestly, most of the bourbons listed were ones that I'd never tried before, and, will probably never see where I live in rural Eastern North Carolina. So I got to thinking about my own personal history with the whiskey that must be at least 51% corn mash (but not necessarily distilled in Kentucky, believe it or not).  And I came to my own conclusion.

George Washington is our first President, and honored as the Father of our Country.  So, I thought, what were the first bourbons I ever enjoyed.... I went back in my time machine and ended up back in Harrisonburg Virginia, to my fraternity, wearing blue blazer and tie, watching JMU Football with a bottle of Virginia Gentleman in my inside pocket, and yelling for the Coke vender to bring us "mixers" in the stadium. (Shhh. Don't tell anyone. I think it wasn't allowed, but we did it anyway.) 

While this may have been the first bourbon I drank regularly, and will always have a place in my heart . It was kind of our fraternity kindred spirit. One of our brothers even painted the label on our party room wall. Thanks Doug. I really don't buy it anymore.... but maybe I should, for old time's sake.
I rate it 2 stars... but 5 for the memories!
(And it is still a good bourbon for either my eggnog or a bourbon and ginger.)

There was one other bourbon that I met my freshman year. My "big sister" in my fraternity gave me a pint of Henry McKenna bourbon. And one night at an event we had, that bottle was my date. Unfortunately that was after our D-hall served manicotti for dinner for the students. Let's just say my date didn't end well (thanks Judy), and to this day I can't eat manicotti - or anything Italian with a lot of ricotta cheese. Oof. Having said that, Henry McKenna 10 year bourbon is one that is on my bar often now.  But never again the old regular one. Still can't touch that either.

This is NOT the same Henry that I had a bad experience with in college, thankfully. I enjoy this one, and have had it on my bar at times. I rate it a 3.5 out of 5 starts.

Beyond these wild and crazy guys back in their youth, is displayed the artistic creation of a brother who would go on to wonderful career in art.

As my taste buds matured, I didn't like bourbon and coke anymore, but I did like a bourbon and ginger (ale). So, towards the end of college I started drinking Jim Beam. A little more flavor in this spirit than the Ol' VG. A few bucks more, but worth it, in my humble opinion. And it was the first bourbon I drank with a splash of water. (I still had to wait a few more years until I liked it, however.) But because I do still buy it occasionally (for mixed drinks, eggnog, mint juleps and other medicinal purposes) I have ranked Jim Beam as my George Washington of Bourbons - the first on my Mt. Rushmore.

The first of my personal bourbons on my Mt. Rushmore. My George Washington, as it was the first I started drinking with no sodas - and I still buy it.  Overall, I'd only give it 2.5 stars, but it is certainly not a bad bourbon for the price.

As I raised my family and my tastebuds along the way, we had a family reunion out in Kentucky. It was a wonderful time with several generations on my father's side, and that is when I really started to get into "premium" bourbons. There were really just two that I liked and started drinking at this time: Makers Mark and Woodford Reserve. Makers Mark was a nice "wheated" bourbon that made it smooth and sweet. Much easier to drink on the rocks, or even "neat". But it is definitely too sweet to mix with any soda, in my opinion. Woodford Reserve is just all around a flavorful bourbon in a really cool bottle. it became my go to premium bourbon. And so for that reason, it is my Thomas Jefferson; the second bourbon on my Mt. Rushmore of bourbons.

A great sweet bourbon always on my bar. It is the bourbon I recommend to people, if they want to "learn" to like bourbon. Not too strong in burn, and sweet and soft on the palate. But while it's close, it did not get the cigar and make it to my Mt. Rushmore. I rate it 3.5 out of 5 stars.

Woodford Reserve stands out today as a wonderful, moderately priced bourbon. And the Double-Oaked bourbon has a nice, nutty, flavor perfect for a glencairn glass. I rate it 3.75 out of 5 stars.

Okay, so that leaves two spots left on my Mt. Rushmore. Teddy Roosevelt and Abraham Lincoln. As my tastebuds progressed and the offerings increased, I branched out and discovered more bourbons that I really enjoyed. Among those were Eagle Rare (which I gave a good friend when he recommended me for my current job) Elmer T. Lee, and Four Roses Small Batch.

None of these were even $30 at the time, and all were excellent. I remember even keeping a bottle of Elmer T. Lee in my office under my desk on the frame, due to its square bottle. That way neither clients nor cleaning crew could see it. And I could still enjoy a nice glass if I was working at the office in the evening after hours. I haven't even seen a bottle of Elmer T. Lee in a decade.

Elmer T. Lee's compact square size was perfect for my office, or a kayak fishing for Striped Bass with a friend or two in late fall. Right Jerry? The squeaky sound of its cork coming out still evokes a Pavlovian Dog response in me. ;) I rate it 4 out of 5 stars.

When my fishing week "brothers" decided to also have a "shooting" weekend, we turned it into a bourbon tasting as well. (Of course, not at the same time.) We all brought some wonderful bourbons and had a blind taste test. Blantons, Elmer T. Lee and Four Roses Small Batch were among the participants with our crew. After all was said and done, however, it was the Four Roses Small Batch that won the night. Elmer got second. And so, because of its win, its smooth drinkability without ice or with, and its easy availability, Four Roses Small Batch is my Teddy Roosevelt: my third bourbon on my Mt. Rushmore. And I always have a bottle in my bar.

Four Roses Small Batch is reasonably priced (I've seen it as low as $24 even still!) and in my opinion, better than the Single Barrel. The Four Roses regular bourbon is good, as well. Congratulations on being my third bourbon on Mt. Rushmore. I rate Four Roses Small Batch 4 stars out of 5.

Almost a dozen years ago, this motley crew (as well as a couple of others including my brother) judged all these bourbons in front of us. Elmer came in 2nd to Four Roses Small Batch. Blantons was 3rd.  I'm not knocking Blantons, however. Very cool bottle, and John Wick drinks it, so....

So now we get into the last ten years or so. The bourbons have continued to increase in variety and quality in my opinion, and also they've grown tremendously in popularity. Bourbons that I could find and buy anywhere and very reasonably priced, have now become "allocated" or very expensive in any other "free state" not with ABC laws and stores. My favorite "go to"s have all disappeared from store shelves and are now hiding in the back - if they are ever even available. Having said that, about 2 years ago I became friendly with a store manager and told her I was having a bourbon tasting with friends, and could she look out for me over the next few months before the event. She did, and we had a good tasting. (Again Four Roses did well.) Then I told her I wanted to have a "High End" exclusive bar for my daughter's upcoming wedding (reception) for the bridal party and family/close friends. She took care of me as the months rolled by leading up to it. I had a private bar greatly to be admired!

These bourbons (and a couple of Irish Whiskies mixed in) made the basis for the "brown liquor" part of my exclusive bar for my daughter's wedding weekend. Surprisingly, (and thankfully) it was not totally depleted. It was an exceptional bar envied by many.

After the wedding, due to my cancer and a bad reaction to my immunotherapy, I had to go four months without a drink. It wasn't a problem for me, and I had a blast on National Bourbon Day at a friend's house, watching all my friends partake and maybe even partake too much. (THAT is an understatement). But even during this time, I was able to obtain a couple more bourbons that I am saving for a special event. One of them is for the day I get to RING THAT (Cancer Free) BELL!

Stagg is no longer Stagg, Jr. I know this will be a "hot" bourbon, so I'll mix it with water when I finally crack it open. I haven't needed to yet, though, as I'm determined to finish the few remaining open bottles first. So maybe it won't be long...

These two Wellers are some of the finest bourbons you can find... IF and WHEN you can find them. The advantage of an ABC state store is that they cannot increase the price above what it's supposed to retail for. In a "free state", these bottles can list for $279 for the Weller 12 and $700+ for the white-labeled Weller CYPB. THAT is the bottle I will crack open when I get to ring that damn bell!!!

Okay, so if the Weller CYPB is the one I'm saving for that great day, is it my Abe Lincoln? I don't know. I haven't tasted it yet. I have had the Weller 12 before, thanks to my son. It's excellent, and known as the "Poor Man's Pappy", as it is distilled in much the same way at the same distillery as Pappy. (Buffalo Trace). The flavor profile is apparently just different enough, though, that one is the Weller 12 and the other is Pappy. I have yet to be offered any Pappy. It's simply not been available to me yet.

The Weller Family. I've had each of these, except for the brown labeled Single Barrel. They're all outstanding, and almost made my Mt. Rushmore. But they're harder to find than even Colonel Taylor.

So that leaves one more. it was the back row of that Wedding Bar photo. Colonel Taylor small batch is hard to find, but very reasonably priced when you can find it. It tastes nutty and sweet, with hints of toasted caramel. For its price point, there is no other bourbon I'd rather have. (The ABC price, NOT the Free state price of $100-300). I'd take it over Blantons, Bookers, Baker and IW Harper - none of which are cheap. I'd even take the Colonel Taylor Small Batch over the Colonel Taylor Single Barrel. I just like it better. Abraham Lincoln is said by many to be our greatest President. I think the same about Colonel Taylor Small Batch. It is my Abe Lincoln on Mt. Rushmore.

Colonel E.H. Taylor Small Batch. My Abraham Lincoln on my Mt. Rushmore. To me, there is no better bourbon that I can buy somewhat regularly at a reasonable price. I give it 4.5 out of 5 stars.
(I have to leave room for improvement for something else.)

So there you have it. My Personal Mt. Rushmore of Bourbon

George Washington is Jim Beam

Thomas Jefferson is Woodford Reserve

Teddy Roosevelt is Four Roses Small Batch

Abraham Lincoln is Colonel Taylor Small Batch.

Now, having said that, I reserve the right to change my mind if and when I try the Weller CYPB (Create your personal best) and a Pappy one day. But both would have to become more readily available, as well. That's the thing. Most of these, if not all, are at least available sometimes in Virginia and North Carolina. You just have to know a guy, or be on the Facebook page, or texting list, or whatever. Wait, why am I sharing my secrets? I don't need to make this harder for me? I'm an idiot. ;)

I know, if you're a bourbon lover, you will probably disagree and make a Mt. Rushmore list too. Please share it with me. I'd love to hear it. And if you want to debate me sometime about what deserves to be where, I'm happy to have that discussion... over a bourbon, ... or two.

Now, I've got to go. The JMU Dukes are about to tip off in Men's Basketball. I have to go get a bourbon before the game. And don't worry. I don't need a Mixer guy anymore. Go Dukes! And cheers!

The Buffalo Trace distillery creates many of my favorite bourbons. But the original Buffalo Trace, for the money, is pretty much one of the best damn bourbons you can buy. It is my go to "Thursday night" bourbon, if I want something good and it's not a special occasion (other than game night.)
I give it 3.75 stars out of 5.

My current Bourbon Bar is below. It's protected by a few handguns, two rifles and three dogs. But if you're invited, you will enjoy a few good ones. Until next time, Cheers.

 WELCOME TO THE SOUTH:

My last couple of posts have been deep and heart-felt.  Here's a light-hearted one to add a smile to your day and make you think.  And if you live in the South, make you appreciate why you're here.

  A Southern Uncle's Words of Wisdom for his Northern Niece as she leaves Boston to go to College below the Mason Dixon Line and live on her own, in the South.... Consider this an early birthday present, Sweetie.

The Southern United States.  A different culture than the North, East, West and anywhere else.  It is often derided, but I would say it should be embraced.  After all, there's a reason people keep moving to this part of the country.  It's not just the weather. (And I'm not getting into the politics, either.)

My sister is taking her one and only daughter to college this week.  It's a big deal for the incoming freshman, and my youngest niece.  She's off to a wonderful, prestigious school and is excited about it:  But it's in the South.  A place she's only visited... never lived.  She's been a Boston/New England girl all her life, with limited exposure to all things Southern - as I and my family are the only Southerners she's ever been around on either side of her family.  She's intelligent, very well-educated, talented and well-rounded; but needs to understand some of the basic differences and facts of life that aren't taught in school about the South, or life below the Mason Dixon Line.  So I thought I'd give her some advice.  And to my Southern friends (and transplants), please feel free to add your own, as I know I have forgotten or neglected many. 

We'll begin with some basics.

·        

*    Not all consonants are necessary in a word.  But don’t worry…. we make up for it.

*    Vowels can be added or extended to words, where they can even add a syllable or two.

*    Country music is simple:  3 chords and the truth.  But Country pop ain’t country music.  This is not up for debate.  Alan Jackson is acceptable.  Florida Georgia Line... just, no.  (Yes, there are southerners who would disagree with me.  But I'm sorry, I'm right.)

*    Even in the South, from how far South you are matters.  When I lived in Richmond (former Capital of the Confederacy) I learned that to Carolinians and those farther South, Virginia wasn't even considered South enough.  And don't even get me started on Delaware and Maryland being Southern states.

*    Florida is the exception, however.  It is the only state where the more north you go, the more Southern you get.  Miami and Key West are not the South.  

*    Fried is an acceptable cooking method for most foods, even vegetables and tomatoes.

*    Grits are kind of like cream of wheat, but better – especially with cheese, spices and/or shrimp.

*    Butter beans are wonderful!  Lima beans, not so much. Know the difference.

*    Green beans are no longer to be called green beans.  They are “snaps”!  Got it?

*    Learn what collard greens are.  They’re better than kale.

*    A ham hock makes any southern vegetable better.  Healthier, not so much….

*    Humidity.  Get used to it.  Sweating while doing nothing is just a fact of life here.

*    Snow - or even just the threat of it, will shut down the South.  We are NOT New England.

*    Don’t dismiss your hunting/fishing friends in college.  You may appreciate them when you’re tired of campus food.  It really is a way of life, and they know how to cook what they kill.

*    Don’t be shocked when people you don’t know greet you with a “Hey”.  We are friendly.

*    God and Country matter. 

*    The “cultural divide” between Democrat/Republican isn’t as real as the media would have you believe.  Real people get along just fine.  The same is true regarding Race.

*    Mosquitoes are big, don’t wait until dark, and in some cases, can carry away small children.

*    Yellow flies, greenheads, no-see-ums, gnats, ticks and wasps of all kinds add to the fun here, too.

*    Learn to identify snakes.  We actually have poisonous ones in the South - but fortunately most that you come across and see are the "good ones" you want around.

*    Sweet tea. Embrace it.  Love it.  It’s everywhere.

*    Bourbon/Tennessee Whiskey:  In a few years when you're legal, I’ll help educate you about the beauty of this elixir. ;)     (Yeah, right..... in a few years).

*    Sports matter – especially college sports.  Learn and follow your team, and you’ll always have something to talk about with everybody.

*    NASCAR matters.  (Though if I’m honest, I still don’t get it, either.) But have a “driver” you like.

*    Blue jeans, cowboy boots and t-shirts are acceptable attire to almost anywhere. Even church.

*    You are in the Bible Belt.  It’s called that for a reason.  Go to church.

*    “Bless your heart” is not a compliment.

*    Neither is “Aren’t you precious.”  I don’t care if they are smiling at you when they say it.

*    If given the invitation, never pass up the opportunity to go have “Nana’s fried chicken.”  It’s probably the best Sunday meal you’ll ever have.  (Just don’t ask how she makes it.)

*    Good ol’ boys love their mama and respect their daddy.  They will treat you right.  Find one.

*    Southern girls often put on a front.  But cut through that, and you’ll have a sister for life.

*    Double names aren't just for girls in the South.  And you will meet a "Bubba".  I met 3 when I first moved to one small town in the South. Some stereotypes are stereotypes for a good reason.

*    Chik fil-a.  Nuf said. Don’t let the line scare you:  they’ve figured out how to keep it moving.

*    Ambrosia… Is it a dessert, or a salad?  I’m still not sure. But it’s good, whenever you eat it.

*     Pee-Can.  Pe-CAWN'.  Let the debate continue.  But the pie is delicious.

*    Homemade biscuits and gravy.  Don't ask.  Just enjoy.  (But don't eat it too often, or you'll feel your arteries harden while you gain 10 pounds.)

*    While the Civil War is long over, Southerners do have pride in their heritage. 

*    Dismiss a Southern Accent as someone who is unintelligent at your own risk.  Not true.

*    Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years in short sleeves and shorts does take some getting used to… I'm not gonna lie.  It’s hard to have a fire in the fireplace when it’s 80 degrees outside.  But at least your Halloween outfit won't be covered up by a parka.

*    John Deere, CAT, Carhartt and Bass Pro truckers' hats are always in style.

*    Especially with Ray Bans, Oakleys, Costas or Maui Jims.

*    Wal-mart and Dollar General can be lifesavers and save you a dollar.  But embrace the Mom/Pop places and diners every chance you get.  That's where you'll be appreciated.

*    Barbecue. Each region of the South takes pride in its version.  Try them all.  Northerners have no idea what a barbecue really is.  Sorry, yankees.  But this is truth.

*    That guy in those old holy jeans, flannel shirt and muddy boots driving a pickup truck may be worth more $ than you and me put together.  Money doesn’t always dress up in the South.  And there's plenty of money here.  We're not all mobile homes and trailer trash.  

* Pickup trucks are very much a source of pride in the South.  Chevy v. Ford v. Ram.... Don't get caught in the middle, but it's nice to have a friend with one.

*    Dogwoods, azaleas, magnolias, crepe myrtles, jasmine, wisteria, camelias and gardenias are proof God loves the South.  When the north is still suffering snow, sleet, ice and mud, the South embraces Spring.

*    But... Spring only lasts a week in the South.  Don't miss it.  Because then it's summer and the humidity and bugs return.

*     Autumn can happen any time between late October and December.  It also lasts about a week.  Then false summer can return.

*    Winter can last a week or two anytime in January or February.  That's when you may have ice.  Look out.  

*    Cold weather is described as anything below 50 degrees.  Don't argue.  Nobody wants to hear about how back in Boston, it hasn't been above 50 degrees since October.  There's a reason people move south.  And yes, you'll still see people wearing flip flops in January.  Leave your Uggs and snow boots behind.  

*    Don't ever pass a Farmers Market on the side of the road without getting whatever the produce they have is.  Peaches, corn, watermelons, collards, heads-on shrimp, thick sliced bacon, peanuts, tomatoes, apples... whatever it is,it's better, fresher and more delicious than anything in a grocery store.  And it's local.  And don't forget the fireworks!  (Even if you have to ask for the "Boomers").

*    Embrace college and your classes, but also embrace the college social life, the culture of your college town, and the surrounding vicinity and country.  The mountains, valleys, forests, lakes, streams and fields have as much to teach you as any classroom.  Live it all!  It's not just about the grades and education.  It's about the experiences.  And road trip when you can!

*     Regardless of time of day, or time of year, if you need someone to talk to, never hesitate to reach out to family.  We're all here for you.  In the South, north or wherever you may be.  College is a wonderful time in your life, and you will make friendships now that will last a lifetime.  It's true.  Embrace your time and the people around you.  You will get much more out of it than you put in.  And your knowledge will expand, as your appreciation for other cultures grows.  The South will welcome you, Sweetie.  Welcome home.  You may never go back north.  I didn't....

Okay Southern readers, what are some other Pearls of Southern Wisdom that need to be added here?

A Charmed Life

 "Do you love me?".  It was a quiet code between my Mom and Dad.  And also Mom and me.  It was a code where she would squeeze my hand four times, each time standing for one of those words.  "Yes I do." I would squeeze three times.  "How much?"  She would squeeze twice.  And then, look out!  I would squeeze her hand as hard as I dared - without breaking it.  And she would smile.  So would I.

Precious moments with Mom were often spent holding hands....

 

Church or our favorite local craft brewery, it didn't matter.  We held hands, and often "squeezed" each other, "Do you love me?"  I will always cherish those moments with her, wherever they were.

Growing up, sitting in church, or walking along together.  Or more recently just sitting next to each other at the local brewery or restaurant, or home....  These are quiet moments we would share, Mom and me.  Memories I will always cherish.  Sometimes I would just squeeze her hand three times, just to let her know I love her.  I did that last Sunday, as we sat in the hospital room saying goodbye to her.  I was hoping there may be some kind of response, but the second stroke had taken away any physical ability she had to respond to us.  We were assured by the neurologist and nurses that she could still hear us, and knew we were there.  So we stayed.  We held her hands.  And we spoke with her. And we kissed her.  We listened to old Christmas music and waltzes and the music she loved.  Those who couldn't physically come to the hospital called in, and we placed the phone to her ear so they could tell her how much she means to them.  We told her it was okay to let go... and let God welcome her. I prayed with her.  I knew Dad was waiting on the other side, ready to greet her.  Along with her family. Oh how she was ready for this day.  But we weren't.  I mean, we knew it was what she wanted, and she was ready.  She didn't want to be part of this world anymore if she was less than whole.  So it was time... But are you ever really ready to let go of your mother?

The nurse told us sometimes people won't "let go" until they know they are alone.  I told Mom that wasn't happening!  I wasn't leaving.  I was going to be there, holding her hand for the rest of her life.  So she might as well know that. I thought about that statement: "the rest of your life..."  Never had it seemed so finite.  And yet it was over 92 years long.  But what a life it was....

Celebrating Mom's 90th birthday, even if there weren't 90 candles.  Lots of memories around for her.

On the cool Spring Palm Sunday morning of March 29, 1931 in Binghamton, NY, Ruthie Anne Miller was born to Helen and Erie.  She was the little girl they'd been waiting for, after their sons Jimmy and Bobby and she would be spoiled. Especially since their son Thomas, born after Bobby, had died shortly after his birth in 1926.  Helen's brother Jack also passed away unexpectedly within days of Thomas and because she was still recovering, Helen couldn't even attend her brother's funeral.  It would be years before they were ready to try again, but when they were, Ruthie was born... and she was perfect.

Celebrating Mom's 90th birthday up in Devon, with her baby photo behind her.

She grew up protected by her older brothers and spoiled by her father who she adored. Growing up in rural Ithaca, NY during the Depression was a childhood of wonderful memories for her, living on a farm and blessed to not know want or need.  That's not to say the family didn't suffer hardship, but they just made sure that it didn't affect the children, and they weren't aware of all the struggles - especially Ruthie.

Friendships and family meant everything to her and would mean everything all of her life. Family gatherings, picnics, cookouts, Holidays - all were precious time to be cherished, and friends were always welcome.  

Little Ruthie loved to watch her Daddy show his horse Red.

Jimmy and Bobby served during the War, and when it was over, they took a cross country motorcycle journey.  Ruthie graduated from Ithaca High School in 1949, and then went to Keuka College and Syracuse.  A member of the Sigma Kappa sorority, she graduated with a BS in business and got a job with DuPont down in Wilmington, DE in 1953.

Ruthie's senior portrait. 

She moved into an apartment with new best friend Eleanor, and shortly after beginning work there, met an interesting young man - who also happened to be from Ithaca, Peter Babiy.

Peter had gone to Cornell University and joined the Air Force ROTC program while driving an ambulance during free time, to pay for college, so he was serving his time in the Air Force, but was also hired by E.I. Du Pont de Nemours so that he had a career when his time in the Service was over.

This photo, taken on the Eve of their wedding, 12/26/1955, shows their eyes were twinkling long before we were even a twinkle in their eyes.  

A whirlwind romance and a wedding on December 27, 1955 when Peter had time off between the Holidays, and then it was off to Malden, Missouri with the USAF.  Then San Antonio, Texas and Palm Beach, Florida.  Next was Lincoln, Nebraska (where Paul Theodore "Teddy" was born).  Then with the Air Force duty complete, the young family moved back to Wilmington, DE - Du Pont's HQ, and Helen-Anne was born.  After a couple years, the growing family was transferred to Charlotte, NC (where Daniel Miller was born).  It was during this time that Erie developed cancer and passed away in May of 1964.  

The Babiy family is complete

The next year, however, the family was transferred again - this time to Geneva, Switzerland.  Thus began what Ruthie would refer to as her Cinderella years.  Five years of living in the heart of Europe, which included travel all over. Zermatt, Florence, London, Austria, Czechoslovakia, Denmark, Spain, France.  And of course, annual trips back to Ithaca to visit family.  And her mother, Helen would come visit her, too.  Friendships grew in Geneva with families that would carry forward for the rest of their lives, as well as the children.

Mom and Dad were in the thick of child raising years then.  And they needed help.  So those were the years Mom and Dad got a new Danish Au Pair every year... typically a 19 year old beauty who would become family with us.  Elisabeth, Doris, Kirsten all were precious to us, and would remain in contact with us throughout their lives.  It's interesting that none of them ever had children of their own... hmmm. Not sure what to think of that.  ;)

May of 1970 brought the time to return to the States again.  With an ill-fated trans-Atlantic cruise on the Rafaello out of Genoa, SS Raffaello - Wikipedia when it ran into an oil tanker at the Strait of Gibraltar, the family had to fly out of London to complete the journey back to Wilmington.

For the next 37 years Ruth and Peter raised their family, watched their children marry and had grandchildren.  Mom perfected her baking (raspberry/blueberry pie with berries from our back yard will always be my favorite), sewing, flower arranging and knitting skills, and I am proud to say that many of her sweaters that she knit me during this time, I still proudly own and wear.  I'm just sorry that the "faux denim" leisure suit she made me in the late '70s not only didn't survive, but there are no photos of me in it, either.  But then again, maybe that's not a bad thing.... Still, I remember wearing that outfit proudly to church.  It was the 70s, after all....

Oh how she loved arranging flowers!  Gardenias and gladiolas were among her favorites!

The Austrian American Society in Wilmington was an organization that my parents were thrilled to be a part of, and many a Dirndl was made by Mom, so that she could look good for the annual "Heurigan", often held in our own back yard - with lights, wine and accordian player.  Then there was the annual Ball, a formal affair where Strauss' Waltzes were played and danced.

Many a fond memory I will have, of Mom playing the piano. Whether it was before a dinner party, or just because.  The sound of her playing always brought us joy.  Her musical talents as well as her poetry and writing talents are ones I am fortunate enough to have inherited from her.

Mom loved church. For decades, she was a member of both the Concord Presbyterian Church choir, as well as the choir at Westminster Presbyterian Church when the family began attending there, too.  The PEO Sisterhood meant a great deal to her, as well.  And where ever she went, she made sure she connected with her "sisters" there.

She was an accomplished swimmer and diver in her time, holding her jackknife and swan dives perfectly with those toes pointed, as she entered the water, well into her 50s and beyond.

Family trips to Ithaca, time spent at "Uncle Bob's cottage" on Cayuga Lake, Family reunions celebrating Granny and Opa's 50th anniversary or other occasions were all cherished by us.  As the generations passed, and we were all out of the house, Mom and Dad were ready to move on, themselves.   Thus, they moved to Sarasota, to begin their "Golden Years".  

Mom, Grandma and Dad at Taughannock Falls, just outside Ithaca.

Too many memories with family and friends occurred at Uncle Bob's cottage on Cayuga Lake.

With Dad's unique story, his ties to his Austrian family and friends remained strong throughout his life, and Ruth and Peter traveled to Austria at least annually to see and catch up with everyone.  It was during their last trip 11 years ago, that we realized Dad was slipping. But at least each of the kids and grandkids had had the chance to also see/meet and be with family and learn the history and backstory of their heritage. Something we all cherish.

Family and friends in Austria will always be an important part of our heritage through every generation past, present and future.

A surprise 80th birthday for Dad in Sarasota was a highlight of their time in their "Golden Years" there.

The next few years brought Mom and Dad back to the Wilmington area (Maris Grove) as Dad's health deteriorated, and when he passed, just short of their 60th anniversary, we celebrated his life and appreciated all he had overcome.  Mom would mourn the loss of her beloved Peter always, but God bless her, she did not slow down.  She continued to do what she could and she traveled.  Whether it was up to Massachusetts to be with Helen-Anne, or down to North Carolina to be with me.  Physically she slowed down, with a bad knee, but her wit and mind stayed sharp, and those knitting skills continued to bless family and friends around her.  A Yarn Shop in Elizabeth City became her favorite place to hang with new friends when she visited - and she even "facetimed" with them when she wasn't there, so the ladies could stay up on what was happening with Ruthie as well as whatever project she was working on.

Her health was strong enough that she even got to plan and take two last "Bucket List" trips with family - one to Cancun, and one to Ireland in the last five years, and what a blessing they were for her and those that went.  

The swimming pool in Cancun was a favorite place for her.  But she loved swimming and diving all her life, anyway.  This was far warmer than Cayuga Lake!

Holding an eagle in Ireland was a highlight. Her last two trips with family were two of her favorite trips, and she was blessed to be able to experience them.  As were those who went with her!

Mom stayed active to the end.  While she had two brief hospital stays in April and May, she and my family were determined that she would continue with her plans - not the least of which was attending her granddaughter's wedding down in North Carolina towards the end of May.  An event that not only did she attend, but she shined!  We are so grateful that she (with my brother and his family and my sister with hers) were all able to attend.  It would be the last time we were all together.

While not everyone was in this photo, we are so grateful that Mom was able to attend Sheldon and Timothy's wedding, and now only cherish that weekend even more.

Saying goodbye Sunday morning... Did we realize it really was Goodbye?  But what a blessing it was to have her and all the family there for such a wonderful celebration of love!

On Monday, July 3 she went and played bridge at the Senior Center in Devon (a passion she and Dad shared throughout their lives).  But sometime during the night she suffered a stroke.  And on what would have been her brother Bob's 100th birthday, July 4, 2023 she was admitted to the hospital.  Later that evening, she suffered a second stroke, and we knew there would be no recovery.  Which brought us all to be around her.  

It is a blessing to have lived such a life.  And Mom always said she had a charmed life.  She got to see and do so much.  She was loved, and she loved.  She had a long, wonderful marriage, and family and lifelong friendships she cherished.  She saw so many changes and advancements during her lifetime, and embraced modern technology to the point where she used her I-Pad to download patterns for her knitting.  Yet "old fashioned" skills like knitting, quilting, cross stitch, needlepoint and such were something she enjoyed to the end as well.  As she did her piano, ping pong and poetry writing.  

Mom loved Ping Pong and even won a tournament or two in her day.  She also was always game for pool/billiards, and never passed up a game of Scrabble - especially with her kids or grandkids.  

Sunday evening, July 9, 2023, at around 8:45pm, the nurse came in one more time.  Ted was with Mom on one side, and I was holding her other hand on the other.  The nurse spoke with us, and while she was speaking, I could sense in Mom's hand, that she was "ready".  A few final breaths while the nurse was there, and Mom slipped from our hands over to Dad on the other side. Our handover was complete.

I had held Mom's hand one final time, and gave her one last long hard squeeze of love and goodbye.  We stayed in silence and tears for a while, processing it all.  I had brought up some gardenias from my back yard the day before, and their fragrance abounded in the room with her.  

Mom's last bouquet of gardenias filled her room with a wonderful scent, and were gently placed on her chest by Ted as we left her room.  It was a very touching moment I will always remember.

As we left, we took with us the bouquets that my sister and others had sent, but I left the gardenias with her.  Ted took them and placed them on her chest... and I thanked him.  That would be the last image I have of my mother... her lying peacefully with them.  

I always jokingly said that when Mom "goes" it better be in the Fall or Winter so that we can all wear a sweater or something that she had made us, in tribute to her.  Well, July isn't exactly chilly, so we're going to have a Celebration and Memorial Service for her sometime later this fall.  Maybe September 30 or so.  With any luck, there'll be a cold front coming through, and I can wear one of her sweaters.

If not, I always have a belt, or socks I can wear.

Regardless, I know she rests easy now.  She's with Dad and her family - and she's with Jesus.  While we cry selfish tears, I don't question where she is, as I know her faith was real. So it really isn't goodbye.  It truly is, as is written on her and Dad's grave, "Auf Wiedersehen".  Until we see you again.  Thank you, Mom.  Thank you for everything.  Your legacy of love, and a lifetime of commitment to others will always be something we all cherish.

Ruthie and Peter together again; and now forever in HIS embrace.
"Auf Wiedersehen, Mom and Dad".  Until we meet again.

Mom's Obituary: Ruth Anne (Miller) Babiy Obituary - Ithaca Journal 

Fishing for Answers: The Dish on my Cancer.

 Cancer:  It’s a disease we are all affected by, either personally or through a family member.  It used to be a death sentence.  But thanks to modern medical research and development, it is not so much anymore, depending on the cancer and situation.  I'm sharing my story. It is to be continued.... This hasn't been a secret, but until now, I haven't openly shared, either.

About to receive my first double-dose of immunotherapy back in March.  I'm psyched and ready to beat this. I've got too much to do, to allow this to slow me down and beat me. Philippians 4:13 states, "I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me." Amen.  That's my attitude.

Eleven years ago, I discovered an "itchy" mole on my back that was “suspicious” using the “ABCD”s of skin cancer/melanoma identification.  While fishing with a dear friend, I showed it to him, and he confirmed I should get it looked at.  Sure enough, my dermatologist confirmed it was Melanoma.  In spite of my darker, not fair skin, and no family history of it, I had Melanoma.  I had surgery to remove the mole (1B) – I have a 4” scar on my back to this day – and the doctor took a “sentinel lymph node” to confirm it hadn’t gone elsewhere, and I was done.  It hadn’t.  I went to the dermatologist for the next 4 years, and never had another questionable mole, so I stopped going.  I was cured. End of story, right?...

(Side note:  even as short as 11 years ago, had my melanoma been “metastatic”, ie. Stage 4 and spread through my body, my dermatologist recently told me there would have been little they could do, and that I should get my affairs in order: I would have had 18 -24 months to live.)

Anyway, that wasn’t my case.  Life went on, and I lived a normal life, just being more mindful of SPF and staying covered when outside.

Until this past December…. when one night watching television, I discovered a lump in my underarm lymph node.  The size of ½ a pingpong ball. A visit to the doctor – then another, two ultrasounds, a biopsy or two, pet scans and more blood work than I can count: and then a call back to the doctor confirmed I had Metastatic Melanoma.  Stage 4 Cancer.  Those words hit you hard. I didn't go numb.  But I did take quite a while to process how just that quickly, with those words, my life, my future, and my plans all changed. I had to talk to the doctor again later, just to confirm I understood everything correctly.  So I guess I did go numb a little.  Or it was just overwhelming.  There were a few tears shed that night.

I'm not gonna lie. That was the worst week.  Especially when you are waiting, wondering for a week.... without a sense of direction of what happens next before your first appointment with an oncologist. (A what?  ME? You've gotta be kidding me!)  Your mind and spirit can wander into areas you don't want to go.  That was the worst part. You google a lot.  (Not necessarily recommended, by the way.) And everyone has an opinion on what you should do, and where you should get treatment.  Duke?  Johns Hopkins?  Dana Farber?  U Penn?  E: All of the above???

Nothing else was wrong with me!  I’m in good shape.  Good BMI. No unusual weight loss/gain.  No fatigue. I haven't been sick. No high cholesterol. Good blood pressure. No blood/lab work numbers out of whack. No heart issues. No illnesses of any kind. A clean recent colonoscopy.  (The surgeon even commented afterwards on how he could tell I eat healthy, for what that's worth.) No further moles or anything ever discovered by the dermatologist when I went back and he inspected me from scalp to toes. Nothing even suspicious to him.  But then again, the horse was already out of the barn. Apparently there had been one cell left behind 11 years ago…. and from there, it grew.

It’s now in my spine, my hip, my left lung, possibly my thyroid and my lymph nodes, of course.  (Did I miss anywhere?? One MRI showed it's not in my brain, at least. I'll take a win where I can get one. I can't blame cancer for me forgetting where my car keys are, anyway.)

But I am fortunate. It’s not 11 years ago.  And medicine has advanced tremendously regarding treating melanoma.  My oncologist told me that with immunotherapy, I can get it controlled and it’s no longer a death sentence. Maybe it's just a "chronic illness".  We'll see. I'm looking to "ring that bell" in the oncology treatment room! Can I get an amen!

Making the time to do what I enjoy has become more important: even if it means getting up before 3am to go do a little fishing before work with friends.  Time is precious.  Sleep can come later.

I'll add this, too.  I have been very impressed with the quality of care, speed and effectiveness of all the medical help I have had to receive in the last 4 months.  I've only had one appointment outside Elizabeth City, and that's when I had to go to Norfolk, to get an ENT's opinion on my thyroid. (No surgery or biopsy yet.  Let's see how the IT fares...)

I’ve had 4 double-doses of IT now, and yesterday was the day I had another full body pet scan to compare to the one I had in early March.  The good news is that my “pingpong ball” sized lump is now less than half the size (I can't even feel it anymore, praise God), so I know there has been progress with the IT.  Now it’s just what’s the next course of action.  That will be decided next week after we’ve had a chance to look at all the results. 

A weekend trip in late April with some of my fishing brothers provided encouragement and hope - that I got this!  And the fishing was pretty epic, as well.  As numerous Citation Redfish were caught by many, if not by me, as I was still recovering from a dose of IT.  Still, it was good to be in Buxton, doing what I love with those I love.

How many 1st birthdays can granddaughter #4 have?  Not too many, if you can only make one! I will be part of their lives, memories and legacies.  Take the time.  If you can't be there, make the phone call. Face time. Be active. There isn't such a thing as Quality time.  That's BS.  It's about Quantity! Make those memories for them - as well as yourself.

There is one wrench in my cog to healing, however:  I had to have a bone density drip to stave off any threat of Osteoporosis more than 2 weeks ago (apparently weakening bones is a threat with IT and cancer treatment) and that threw me for a loop.  A fever of greater than 102.3 for over a week led to too much Advil and Tylenol – and that sent my liver numbers crazy high. I’m still waiting for them to rebound down.  Just like oil prices, they went up like a rocket and are only coming down like a feather.  Hopefully, it is just the Tylenol messing them up, and not “IT-induced Hepatitis”.  Which would be a major setback for my treatment.  But I’m staying positive with all of this. Attitude is everything. And my faith remains strong. I truly believe a positive mindset and attitude works wonders on the miracle that is the human body. Do not underestimate the Spirit!  And I would be remiss if I didn't state how many people I know are praying for me.  Each and every one is appreciated and cherished, and more are sought, for those that believe. You can't have too much prayer on your behalf.  I'll take positive thoughts and vibes from anyone, too, if that's your thing.

Some of my prayer warriors presenting me with my JMU-themed cancer prayer blanket.  There were tears of appreciation for their efforts, I'm not ashamed to admit. 

I’ve also realized a few things, as well.  I don’t take anything or anyone for granted anymore.  I don't have time for BS and won't tolerate negativity.  I’ve started looking for that “Bull named Fu Manchu” Tim McGraw sings about and want to enjoy whatever time I am blessed with doing and enjoying the things I've put off.  I’m fishing more.  I'm writing and playing my guitar more. I'm making the time.  My daughter got married last month and I cried the whole weekend – with happiness and joy, savoring every moment. My time with family and dear friends is precious.  My faith holds me strongly, and I am blessed with a career (and assistant) that allows me to have the time to get what I need done, and still effectively take care of my clients.  Life is good.  It really is.

One of the few moments at the Rehearsal Dinner when I wasn't crying, I am blessed and will cherish this moment forever.  (My "5 minute speech" was double that, thanks to tears of joy.)

Cherish the moments you can.  At least I'm not crying in this photo of our Daddy/Daughter Dance.

What does my granddaughter think?  I don't know, but I'm determined to find out.

What are you saving the good stuff for?  Share with those you love, while you can!  Tomorrow isn't guaranteed, and it might not be you whose number is called.  Make every moment count.

My 92 year old mother, dealing with her own medical issues, was able to be healthy enough to come and share the joy!  Four generations of family and love celebrated the weekend.

So, I guess my conclusion to this post is this:  There is something to be said for us ALL, regardless of our predicament, to "live like we were dying".  Have purpose. Don't go through your days without recognizing that each one is numbered. And leave a legacy of love and faith for your family - without regret, for whenever your due date (I don't think of it as an expiration) arrives.  Thanks for reading this.  I hope it helps to encourage you in some way.  Stay tuned.... 

Early morning fishing at River Dunes led to several fun (small) fish to catch.  It beats sleeping.

Later in the day with my son (in the background) also proved to be fruitful.  Time with family and those you love is what counts - not the fish.  (But I did catch more than him!)  ;)

I even caught the Astrological sign of Cancer:  the crab.  I couldn't get away from it... :)  Too soon? Laughter has been a key to my positive attitude through this.  It makes a difference.

Take the time to stop along the back roads and appreciate the flowers - whether they're wild or the local farmer's vibrant canola crop.

But don't forget about your own backyard, as well.  Enjoy the fragrant gardenias you may have neglected for a while, too.  They are fleeting, as are we all.