GILROY
– John Pinkterton, 93, and Ramona Ayon, 31, have the kind of
friendship that has exhausted stories to share and often leaves him
with the question:
”
Did I already tell you about this?
”
GILROY – John Pinkterton, 93, and Ramona Ayon, 31, have the kind of friendship that has exhausted stories to share and often leaves him with the question: “Did I already tell you about this?”
“Yes, John, you have,” is almost invariably Ramona’s reply, be it to a story about John’s mining years, his son-in-law who works with classified information or his ancestor’s detective agency.
John and Ramona’s friendship started out in an unexpected place: the hospital. Ramona was the nurse and John’s wife, Goldie, was the patient. Over the course of six years, it has blossomed from a work relationship into something more.
“Now she’s family, and she can’t ever get away,” John says. “We’re friends forever, not just for a day.”
Sprightly for a man of his years, John lives by himself at the Monticelli Senior Apartments. Ramona is his caretaker and stops by for about four hours Monday through Friday. She takes care of housekeeping, cooking and brings John shopping.
“There’s my girl,” he says as Ramona walks in the door with her husband, Francisco, and a baby girl in tow.
Since about a couple months ago, John has been able to look fondly over a newly-minted addition: Ramona’s two-month old baby girl, Ramona Jr.
“I special ordered her,” he jokes.
A full-time mom now, Ramona no longer works at the hospital and counts her work for Pinkerton as her only job.
But she wouldn’t really call it work.
“I consider him a grandfather,” she says. “Helping him do things that he can’t do himself and knowing how much he appreciates my help, that’s my high pay check. Not the wages.”
Ramona leans in and asks loudly, “Have you taken your meds?”
“Yes ma’am, I have,” comes the reply.
When Goldie first stayed at a Watsonville hospital in 2000, Ramona would pick John up so he could visit his wife. She also brought stuff from the Pinkerton home if Goldie requested it.
“We hung on to each other as we got acquainted,” recalls John.
Life is bittersweet for John since his wife died last year.
“Words can’t cover it,” he says, misty-eyed. “She took my heart.”
They met when he was 12 and she was 8. Their parents owned neighboring farms in Dodge County, a Nebraska town 70 miles northwest of Omaha. The pair attended the same grade school and walked there together. He finished 10th grade while Goldie went on to finish high school and some college. On Sept. 13, 1934, they married and raised five children together.
“We’ve been together almost forever,” he says. “We’re looking forward to that again.”
Until that day comes, however, John finds that there is still much to love in life.
He visits Ramona in Watsonville, and they watch the neighborhood children play. His daughter, also named Goldie, visits from Capitola and is his “guardian angel.” Sons John, Harvey, Louis and Albert live in other states.
John has met much of Ramona’s family, including her mother and a 3-year-old niece from Arizona, who loves to visit him. The feeling is mutual.
“Our whole family is in love with Ramona,” John says.
He is in good health and walks around by himself with only the aid of a walking stick. This June, he’ll celebrate birthday number 94. As the singing bass on his shelf will say, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy.”
“My doctor guaranteed me 100 years. I plan to hold him to it,” John chuckles.
He watches as Francisco dozes off on the couch with baby Ramona sleeping peacefully on her father’s chest.
“I got them in here,” John says, gesturing to his heart.
