Goodnight Rose

During the Great Depression she sold onions door to door to help her family make money, during World War II she worked in a factory that made parts for bombs while her future husband was walking his way through France and Belgium and Germany with the rest of his company, she was the mother of 6 children, 11 grandchildren and 11 great grandchildren...

She was married for 65 years.  I used to watch as her and her husband would hold hands (in their 80's), how they'd share a beer in short glasses, how if you ever wanted to see a two people that loved each other and understood each other all you had to do was sit back and observe... and even as the end came, the man wanted, insisted that he could take care of her, like they took care of each other their whole lives, even when at 88 he could not anymore...

When she first met me she walked right up to me and hugged me at a time when most people half her age would cross the street to avoid me and i can remember her smiling at me, one boyo on my lap and one sitting next to me and me feeding them both while my dinner sat untouched, she put her hands on my shoulders and said, "You're one of the the good ones you know that... it's a treat to watch you and those boys you're such a good dad."  It was one of the highest compliments i've ever received.

I watched as they buried a child and realized then, even more than i thought, that's it's something that one should never have to do.  As her one daughter stated, she was never the same after that, even at 82 the pain of losing a child was that great.

And so sometime late yesterday afternoon Rose died, in the end it was life to be celebrated, a life well lived and though she wasn't my grandmother by blood she sure did feel like one, she was grace and dignity and sly sense of humor... and so if you happen to have a glass of something, be it wine or short glass of beer or a fine single malt may you raise it up and give a nod... cuz in the end we should all be so lucky as her...

(and for some reason i can see them dancing, him in his uniform and her in her dress, streamers hanging from the ceiling, the beer in short glasses leaving wet rings on the table, smoke in the air, they are just one of a few couples left on the dance floor, sawdust on hardwood, and Louis sings and for a moment she takes her head of his shoulder and they look at each other and smile, neither knowing what a journey they are about to go on, and she puts her head back on his shoulder, smiling... La vie en Rose.)