Obituary of Rosemary Clair Kedersha

Rosemary Kedersha Eulogy Rosemary Clair Schweighardt was born March 30, 1919 in Newark, NJ, to Teresa and Joseph Schweighardt. She was a child of the Depression, and we’ve always suspected that her tendency to have the fridge overflowing with food was a reaction to those early days. Her family was rounded out by older brother Norb and younger brother Richard. A childhood friend gave her the nickname “Roe,” and from then on, she preferred Roe to Rosemary. Mom always wanted to become a registered nurse. At the age of 20 she completed a 3-year nursing program and later took courses at Seton Hall University. Initially she worked in a hospital, but later worked as a public health and school nurse who also ran well baby clinics. She was always proud of her profession. In training, she met her friend Ree Schroers, and the two of them had 70-plus years of friendship, often spiced up with fights about politics and religion, and the occasional throwing of a bowl of soup, we’ve heard, until Aunt Ree passed away last year. Her hospital nursing proved fateful one night when Mom was asked to be the private duty night nurse for a fellow with pneumonia. The fellow turned out to be the handsome and very sweet Jim Kedersha, a pharmacist whom Mom knew casually. Apparently, our grandparents (Dad’s parents) soon became very concerned that their son wasn’t recovering from his illness, as he slept all day long when they visited him. Little did they realize that he was saving his energy for socializing with the pretty nurse on the night shift. Apparently, a lot of ice cream figured into those evenings, a tradition that continued through 44 years of marriage. They dated for 6 months while he was stationed at Brooklyn Navy Yard, before he shipped out overseas as a pharmacist’s mate during World War II. They corresponded for the duration of the war, and Mom liked to recall that they had a code so he could tell her where he was. The first letter of each paragraph spelled out his location. The code didn’t always work, though, as there were occasional letters that arrived with almost everything except “Dear Roe,” and “Love, Jim” censored out. Dad came home in early September 1945, and they married on September 30 – an organizational triumph of wedding planning. We have the bill for their wedding reception, a lavish sit-down dinner, with drinks, for 151 people. It cost a whopping $483. If you notice Jim and Ronnie are shedding a tear now, it’s because Jenna’s upcoming wedding just might cost a few dollars more than that. Judy came along the following year, followed by Jim 3 years later and me 3 years after that. Judy and I include these dates to counter Jim’s insistence that he is the youngest. The house at 278 Washington Avenue was a busy place, with 3 kids and Mom’s father living there, and Dad’s family close by. We were blessed to have family coming and going in casual drop-in visits and for more formal dinners on holidays. The Kedersha-Baba family dinners were, and still are, occasions of great laughter, commotion, highly vocal opinions, lots of love—and phenomenal Middle Eastern food. The food came from the moms—thank you to our Grandma Kedersha, Aunt Elizabeth, Aunt Natalie, Aunt Marie, and Mom for the many rich dinners. Thanks to the uncles and cousins for the noise and commotion. The opinions? Well, nobody in this family is short of opinions. Just ask us. In retirement, Mom and Dad moved to Cape Coral, Florida, and Mom loved being a surrogate mother there to her niece Gale and nephew Paul. She and Dad enjoyed the usual Florida retirees’ lifestyle of gloating about the weather, setting crab pots in the canal, and looking for early bird specials. They made terrific friends and enjoyed travelling until Dad passed away in 1990 at the age of 75. Mom & Dad became grandparents in 1987. Over the next few years, 3 granddaughters were born – Jessica, Jenna and Elise. They were the apples of their grandma’s eye. As a child, Mom had never had a doll house, and she was determined that her granddaughters would not grow up so deprived. So she made a doll house for each girl – in different designs – and furnished them all. The one that she brought to Tucson is Elise’s – and, if you have seen it, you know what a labor of love it is. She was delighted at the thought of Jenna and Jonathan’s upcoming wedding. And as her illness began to close in on her, she recently threatened Jessica’s fiancé Eric that she would come back to haunt him if he didn’t treat Jessica well. In addition to 3 children and 3 granddaughters, these past 10 years Mom also had Turbo, her bichon frise, as her constant and loving companion—and, we suspect—her favorite child. He never talked back to her, she pointedly reminded us. Glenda Toll found Turbo for Mom – a family was looking for a new home for their dog and Mom had decided that she would like a bichon. Glenda put the two together. He’s had a great life with Mom – he’s terribly spoiled, but he gives back so much love in return. Mom’s first concern when she heard her diagnosis in August was, “Who will take care of Turbo?” Judy assured her that Turbo would always have a home with her and Dick, and she relaxed. Mom was a talented woman. She loved all crafts – painting, sewing, knitting, decoupage, doll houses. She did it all – and did it well. Christmas was her favorite time of year – and she decorated the house (inside and outside) extensively. She loved cooking and entertaining friends. While the 3 of us were growing up, she made sure that we had great birthday parties, graduation parties, lots of sleepovers with friends. And many of our friends adopted Mom and Dad as their own. From summer block parties on Washington Avenue, to pool parties with the condo group in Cape Coral, to Halloween block parties with her great neighbors on Wood Lily Court, Mom was right there cooking and decorating. She belonged to bowling leagues wherever she lived and made good friends. She continued bowling past her 93rd birthday. After dad died in 1990, Mom was invited to join a hospice bereavement group. She seriously thought about attending – until she realized that the bereavement group met at the same time as her bowling league. She skipped the bereavement thing and went bowling—correctly surmising that she would benefit more from the support of her bowling friends. If the Olympic Organizing Committee declared shopping to be an Olympic event, Mom would have set a gold medal record. She was a shopper of epic proportions. She firmly rejected the notion that “you get what you pay for” and felt it her solemn duty to track down a bargain. She had a particular weakness for handmade crafty items, and our families learned the categories of “unique,” “very unique,” and the dreaded “most unique.” We all flinched when Mom told us happily that our upcoming Christmas or birthday present would be “most unique.” She gave freely of her time and talents for charity work. In NJ, she was always on the go – volunteering for school activities and local fund raising drives. In Florida, she volunteered at the Cape Coral Hospital, at a Care Center providing assistance for people in need; she welcomed newcomers to the area and served on the Mayor’s commission for awarding education scholarships. In Tucson, she slowed down at bit – after all, she was in her 80s by this time. But she still found the time and energy to contribute to food baskets at church, work at the Gem & Mineral Show, and volunteer at a charity thrift shop. She enjoyed all these activities and always felt she received more than she gave. Her formidable energy only slowed down when she hit 90 - and contracted Valley Fever. She looked younger than her years and was delighted right up until her last hospital stay when doctors or nurses exclaimed about how young she looked. Ladies, the secret to her lovely skin was cold cream – she washed her face with cold cream every morning and every night. And she used the cheapest brand she could find. Mom got her cancer diagnosis in August. We marveled at her good humor, sense of gratitude and continuing spunk in the face of illness. She frequently said, “I’ve lived 93 years, far longer than any member of my family. I’m very lucky, I’ve had a wonderful life – no complaints.” Several times in recent months, Mom would say that she didn’t want us to be sad when she passed away. At one point (with some exasperation and perhaps a touch of gallows humor), Judy said, “OK, we won’t be sad. We’ll have a party instead.” Mom laughed and thought that was a great idea. Knowing that Mom loved Hawaii, Judy casually added, “Maybe we’ll have the party in Hawaii.” Mom laughed again, but said that that wasn’t fair because she wouldn’t be able to attend her own party. So Judy offered to have her cremated and bring her along. Mom apparently thought that was wonderful, but added that we should bring Dad along too. So, sometime soon, we’ll hope to celebrate both our parents’ lives in Alohaland or New Jersey, which is just as nice. We want to thank you so much for coming today. Your presence means a lot to us, and we urge you to celebrate Roe’s life by going shopping, buying “most unique” presents to give to a friend, and giving your pet an extra treat today.