Ms. Ruth Green

Ruth Lamar Green, a cherished mother and loyal friend, was a woman of remarkable character and indomitable spirit. Born on November 3rd, 1947 in Denver, CO, Ruth was a beacon of warmth and love, touching the lives of those around her with her kindness and compassion. She left us on July 20th, 2026, leaving behind a life that was rich in love, laughter, and cherished memories. To quote Emily Dickinson, "Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality."

Ruth was the beloved daughter of the late Herman Binkley and Helen King. She was a proud Denver native and made her home in this city she loved so much. Widowed but never alone, Ruth was a pillar of strength and resilience, embodying the words of Helen Keller, who said, "Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved."

Ruth’s life was a quiet testament to strength, dignity, and love.

Ruth was class. Not the kind that comes from money or titles, but the kind that comes from character. She carried herself with an elegance that needed no announcement — a straight spine, a measured word, a presence that made a room feel steadier just because she was in it. She was reserved, yes, but never cold. Her reserve was a kind of grace, a way of holding space for others before herself.

And what she held, she held for family. Ruth spent most of her life cleaning and caring for the people she loved — not because she had to prove anything, but because that's what love looked like in her hands. She understood something that can't be taught and can only be lived: show me better than you can tell me. She didn't lecture about kindness; she was kindness, in a thousand small, unremembered acts that we remember now. A meal made. A home kept. A hand held. A family held together.

She believed, with her whole heart, that family is all you got. And she lived that belief into us. She taught us that integrity isn't a word you say — it's a life you keep. That a lady's strength isn't loud; it's the quiet refusal to be broken. She showed us the power of strong women — women who endure, who fight, who love without keeping score.

And fight she did. Ruth was a cancer fighter. She faced it the way she faced everything — with that same quiet, unyielding grace. She didn't complain; she fought. She showed us that courage looks like showing up, day after day, with your dignity intact and your heart still open.

I'll always picture her at the table, playing Pacino — our family's game, like bingo with pennies. The pennies weren't the point. The point was the gathering. The laughter. The ritual of being together. Ruth at the center of it, calm and present, holding the family's time like a treasure.

She taught us that a woman's power isn't in being the loudest — it's in being the strongest, the kindest, the most true. And she was all of those things, every single day.

Ruth, you showed us better than you ever told us. We'll carry it forward — the class, the kindness, the integrity, the strength. We'll keep the family together, the way you taught us. And we'll keep a penny for you at the table.

Rest well. You earned it.

2 Timothy 4:7–8 — The Fight Finished, The Faith Kept

I have fought the good fight,
I have finished the race,
I have kept the faith.
Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness,
which the Lord, the righteous Judge,
will award to me on that day —
and not only to me,
but also to all who have longed for his appearing.