Kotoko Ratcliff

Kotoko (Sue) Ratcliff (95) passed away peacefully in her sleep on New Year’s Day—arguably her favorite day of the year. She died at home in Arlington, TX surrounded by family.  She was born in Ashikaga, Japan on March 20, 1928.  Kotoko married Leroy Ratcliff in December 1957 in Tokyo, Japan. Upon Leroy’s retirement from the Air Force, they moved to Rendon, TX in March 1970.
 
Kotoko was called “Grandma” and “Aunt Susie” by her family and friends and was beloved by all.  She was a wonderful role model to her three children, five grandchildren, eight great grandchildren and one great-great grandchild. When she was able, she read the Bible translated to Japanese every morning. She never asked for much but would not hesitate to help friends and family whenever she could.  Grandma enjoyed watching game shows and movies, it is conceivable that she watched “Titanic” a hundred times. She enjoyed teaching her young grandchildren and nieces Japanese children’s songs and the older ones how to play Poker or Solitaire. Aunt Susie’s fried rice was a favorite at family gatherings, but her favorite meal was fried shrimp from Red Lobster. She had a superstition for every occasion—a new purse/wallet was never given without money in it, a knife was never given without the exchange of at least a quarter, new shoes were never placed on the table, and we never missed blackeye peas and rice cakes on New Year’s Day.  Additionally, she had the best sense of humor, loved to laugh and spend time with family.
 
Kotoko was preceded in death by Leroy Ratcliff (husband), Moyo Motagi (mother), Kamekichi Kubo (father), Yukiko Kushinga (sister), Kimiyo Creasman (sister), and Utako Kubo (sister).  She had one brother Haruichi Kubo in Ashikaga, Japan. 
 
She is survived by her children, James Ratcliff of Arlington, Kathy Civitano (John) of California, Margie Mahool of Arlington; grandchildren; Brandi Giles, Jeremy Giles, Timothy Giles, Samantha Mahool, Sarah Mahool and numerous extended family members.  She touched so many lives and is greatly missed by all those that knew her.