Friday, January 26, 2024
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The image etched in my mind when I think about Grandpa Mike is of a folding chair. Ever meticulous about the meat, Grandpa would park in front of the oven at Blossom Heath to ensure the ribs or [spice-injected] roast were cooked to perfection for his family on holidays. They always were.
While Grandpa’s knees often caused him challenges, they NEVER stopped him from helping people get from Point A to B (especially the airport). He surely didn’t need to use Google Maps, for he knew every single shortcut between Long Island and the boroughs.
Grandpa loved to reminisce over Dewar’s or B&B (or McDonald’s coffee). Even as he aged, his mind was sharp as a tack; he followed local and world news, and always kept up with the goings-on of his seven kids and 13 grandchildren.
During August of 2020 (our socially-distanced summer), my Dad (Kevin) and I visited Oyster Bay and posted up on chairs in the driveway. There, I told Grandpa and Grandma that I bought an apartment in NYC. Grandma immediately sprang to her feet to find something to toast with (ever the hostess). Grandpa, I recall, turned his head to my Dad in silence (something quite rare for them both!). On his face was a look of great amazement - which I took to mean his true pride in how my Dad raised us into hardworking, responsible adults. It was a special moment that I’ll never forget. We always aimed to make Grandpa proud!
With Grandma, Grandpa raised the Rose lot to have strong values, ethics and traditions at their core. These were instilled in his own Brooklyn upbringing, and as both a Korean War veteran and member of the NYPD. Grandma’s recent passing was hard on everyone - but on Grandpa most of all. I hope we can all find peace and comfort in knowing that he is no longer suffering, and that he’s reunited with Grandma, alongside all those who passed before them – including his late first wife Eleanor, of four short years very long ago.
My heart goes out to all my relatives at this time - especially my father. Everyone supported Grandpa in their own special way. For my Dad, it was through patience and quality time together each week, reminiscing about the days gone by – often over mashed turnip, stew or pea soup. In Grandpa’s honor, we will do all we can to keep our traditions (and recipes) alive.
For someone who was perpetually prompt, how ironic that Grandpa is the last to arrive Heaven’s gates from his core crew. I have every faith that they’ve welcomed him with open arms, full glasses, a hearty pot roast and strawberry ice cream. May he rest peacefully and may God grant us all strength, calm and kindness as we honor his passing.
