Gary's Eulogy

As promised, here is my cousin Gary's Eulogy that he delivered at Rosemary's funeral. He made it almost all the through it before choking up at the end. Very well written. Very well delivered.

I don't know much about Rosemary's early life because by the time I came along she was already 32 years old. I remember her talking about growing up in places I didn't recognize amongst people I never met. I do know that she grew up with our father as her little brother, so she had to develop the virtue of patience early in life.

My earliest recollections are framed around idyllic weekends at Lake Montowese. I remember Rosemary placing me and Nancy and Rick in the hammock under the trees down by the lake, rocking and singing us to sleep. I remember swimming and playing at the beach while Mom and Aunt Rosemary watched over us. She liked to take walks around the lake, so we all went, and brought along Rugged, the dog. He was Dad's dog but somehow had ended up with Rosemary. She always had candy to put out for us after supper; candy corn, circus peanuts and those soft white mints with the chewy green stuff in the middle. She loved candy. She ate more candy than everybody else I know put together.

(I remember the candy corn and circus peanuts from when we would go to the lake...GOC)

As I grew older and discovered how to operate the telephone I used to call her up at work where she operated the switchboard and she would answer with "Dick X-ray." She would listen while I babbled on about nothing in particular and always seemed glad to hear from me.

Christmas and birthdays were always exciting around our house, and you knew that if Santa Claus didn't bring you that special toy, you had a second chance to get it when Aunt Rosemary came over later. In return we gave her cheap plastic jewelry and bottles of bubble bath and hand lotion. She always received them like they were the best presents she had ever got, just because they were from us.

Sometimes when Mom and Dad had to go somewhere Aunt Rosemary would come over and babysit us. I'm afraid we sometimes took advantage of the situation because we knew she definitely wouldn't spank us if we had been misbehaving.

After Grandpa died Aunt Rosemary took over caring for Grandma. So that she could go out with Charlie on Friday nights I got to go over and sit with Grandma. Aunt Rosemary would have a supply of goodies for me to eat, and I got paid for it as well.

Rosemary had to learn to drive and after a couple of years of driving Grandpa's Pontiac she bought a '67 Chevy II. Several times over the succeeding years she let me borrow that car, which I thought was very generous, and every place I went I had guys begging me to buy that car. So did she, but she held onto it until she couldn't drive anymore.

I got older and moved away to Springfield to go to college. I discovered that if I wrote Grandma a letter I would get one back with five dollars in it from Grandma and a couple more from Aunt Rosemary. Those letters were like manna from heaven and kept me eating all the way through college. Of course it was Aunt Rosemary who read my letters to Grandma and also wrote the replies.

Rosemary retired and took care of Grandma full time. She did all the cooking, cleaning, shopping, ran Grandma to the doctor, bathed and dressed her. Such devotion of daughter to mother is extraordinary. And Grandma was a hand full.

(Aunt Ella's nickname was Queeny because of how well her husband and children treated her...GOC)

Not too long after Mary and I were married Grandma passed away and Rosemary and Charlie were free to get married. Grandma didn't approve of Charlie because he was divorced, but after dating for like 25 years they finally did get married.

What a match! Charlie quiet and studious, either reading or building his model trains. Rosemary outgoing and fun loving, always wanting to go out and do things, but Charlie never did. Somehow they made it work.

Rosemary had a kindred spirit in her cousin Peachie Wilson. Together they would go to the Fox or the Muny or the Botanical Gardens or traveling. They were the best of buddies.

(Peachie was my mother. As a litle girl she had rosy cheeks and a happy disposition. Hence, the name Peachie. To her dying day, no one in the family called her anything else. Gary's father Russell used to joke that Mom and Rosemary could spend the entire day together and then talk on the phone for hours that evening. Get my sister, mother, and Rosemary together and they could all talk at the same time and somehow understand what everyone was saying...GOC)

Rosemary was diagnosed with breast cancer and went in for surgery. The doctor said he thought the disease would kill her, but it didn't. He attributed her miraculous recovery to her positive attitude.

After twenty years of marriage Charley went into decline, but Rosemary was still her same energetic self. When Charley passed away Rosemary seemed to take it pretty well. Then her buddy Peachie died and Rosemary started having health problems of her own and had to move out of her house. I don't think I ever heard her laugh again. They say going blind separates a person from things, but going deaf is more cruel because it separates you from people. Such was the case with Rosemary. She would nod and smile when you spoke to her, but you knew she couldn't understand what you were saying. As her health continued to fail she bore up well, never complaining, she didn't want to be a bother.

To the end she remained a city girl from South St. Louis who came of age in the thirties and forties. Kind, generous, loving. I'm glad to have known her. I'll miss her a lot.

Posted by denny at August 19, 2008 12:28 PM