
As some of my readers already know, this year I lost someone very special to me, my grandmother, Rose. It was my distinct honor to be able to give the eulogy at her funeral. I’ve wanted to share it with others for a while but until now the feelings were just too fresh. After getting together last night with my ladyfriends to honor some of the awesome women in all of our lives, suddenly the time seemed perfect.
So here goes…
Recently a friend asked me, “What kind of woman was your grandmother?” Believe it or not, I had trouble answering. She was so many things to me, and I know she was so many things to all of you too as evident in all the different names we’ve had for her over the years. To some of you she is mother, sister, to others she’s Auntie Rose, or Big Nana, or simply Rose. To me she was nana, but as I explained to my friend, she was more than just my grandma, she was my Special Little Lady, my hero, my friend.
So what kind of woman was Rose? I’ll let the lessons she taught me speak for themselves:
Lesson Number 1) Your sister is your best friend: Many of my nana’s stories began with the words, “We were four girls.” Rose and her sisters Mary, Carmie and Josephine shared everything. Growing up on Marion St. in East Boston during the great depression they even shared beds. I’ll always treasure those afternoons my sister and I spent around the kitchen table with nana and her sisters drinking coffee and laughing and telling stories. I loved hearing about how when Mary was born she was so tiny that they had to put her in the stove to keep her warm, how Carmie got stuck on the Nahant Ferry with a handsome young man who looked like Errol Flynn, and of course, how Rosie got a dashing young man named Ollie to notice her by pretending to drown at the beach at Wood Island Park.
Even though they were poor, they never lacked anything because they had each other. The way they grew up always sounded like so much fun to me. Growing up with nothing they had to make their own fun. There were amateur theatricals in the backyard of the triple decker they lived in, great grandfather’s storytelling, and of course the seemingly endless parties and dances and dates with the neighborhood friends they they’d remain close with for the rest of their lives.
The Giardolo sisters had the reputation of being some of the most stylish girls in the neighborhood, a tradition that my sister Kay and I more than live up to, if I do say so myself. So how did they stay looking sharp? As my nana put it, anytime one of the sisters needed something, they’d just make it or borrow it from one another. They took care of each other. Nana once told me that as a teenager when she didn’t have a job, one of her sisters was always there to spot her with pocket money to go out on the town or to borrow a dress from. As an adult I’ve realized that the close relationship I have with my sister was no accident, I grew up with the most powerful examples of sisterhood I possibly could have had, my nana and her sisters. I was raised to believe that having a sister was a gift, more than a gift, a treasure that I should hold dear. My nana and her sisters taught me that lesson.
Lesson number 2) Live your life with a positive attitude: Rose was simply one of the most optimistic and open minded people I have ever met. To her the glass was not just half full, it was always joyfully overflowing. This wasn’t because her life was easy, far from it. For most of her adult life she struggled with MS, a disease that left her weak and fatigued. Did she let this slow her down? Well, maybe a little. But she refused to sit out of life, there were parties to throw, trips to Florida to have, grandchildren to cuddle and friends to visit far and wide. Rosie just kept on shuffling along at her own pace, determined to make the most of life. I never once heard her complain about her condition. Rather, she always had a wise saying to bouy herself along, “You do the best with what you’ve got”, or, “Que sera que sera”, were words of wisdom I frequently heard from my nana. The message was clear, when life gets tough, you don’t give up.
Never in my life did I ever hear my grandmother speak ill of anyone or be judgemental of anybody elses’ life choices. Why? Because Rose understood what was important in life. When asking my sister and I about our lives she would say, “Are you healthy? Are you happy? Well then that’s all that matters.” And she truly believed those words, she lived her life by them.
Rose’s open mindedness didn’t come from any social or political agenda. She wasn’t out to change the world or fight a battle, she simply understood what matters in life. People matter, relationships matter, love matters. She spent her entire life bringing people closer together. Whether it was through holidays and family reunions held at Nana and Papa’s big old house in Lincoln, a house, I suspect that was designed with the purpose of entertaining their beloved extended family, or simply sitting around the kitchen table laughing and telling stories. Rose brought people together. She brought generations together.
As I grew up I came to regard her as more than just a grandmother, she was also a dear friend and someone I look up to and strive to be like. It was Rose that made me realize that a 21st century woman like myself could have so much in common with her octagenarian grandmother and aunties. We all love laughter and storytelling, entertaining, fashion and a good joke. After hearing about all the backyard theatricals, sewing, drawing and costuming that her and her sisters did I know exactly where Kay and I got our artsy genes from.
She loved hearing what was going on in me and my sister’s lives whether it was our exploits teaching art and drama, my latest play, or our nights out on the town seeing live music and going to parties (the PG-13 version, of course). And she loved seeing pictures of it all on our iphones. Another thing Rose was open minded about was technology. “Did you ever think you’d live to see the day when you could send a picture through the phone?” She’d say. She was delighted by it and genuinely interested in everything her grandaughters were up to, no matter how unconventional. She was supportive of all our endeavors whether it was my sister’s trip to do volunteer work in Nicaragua or my choice to move in with my boyfriend (now fiancee) gasp… before we were married. While my mother worried, my grandmother simply shrugged her shoulders and said, “Are they healthy? Are they happy? Que sera sera.”
Lesson number 3) As one of the greatest bands of all time, the Beatles said, all you need is love. If my grandmother had been born a generation later I’m sure she would have agreed with that statement. She had so much love to give and continued giving, all the way until the end. Even when she moved to the nursing home she continued to reach out to everyone she met and make new friends. She told everybody she interacted with there, from her fellow residents to the nurses and orderlies that she loved them, and they always replied, “We love you too, Rose.” She is living proof that you get what you give in life.
Last year, shortly after my grandfather passed away, I was on the phone with nana. She asked me, “Are you going to do a reading at the party for papa?” “What party?” I asked, then I realized that she was talking about my granfather’s funeral. I don’t think that she used the word party just because it was too difficult to say the word funeral. I think she chose the word party because she wanted to view the funeral as a gathering of loved ones, something positive instead of something depressing.
And now, although our hearts are heavy, I invite us all to celebrate my grandmother’s life the same way she lived it, with acts of love. Anytime I choose a positive outlook instead of giving up in the face of adversity, I am honoring my grandmother, when I open my arms and accept others instead of being quick to judge, I know that she will be right there with me. And I invite you to do the same, gather your loved ones together, tell stories, spread laughter and choose to see life as a celebration. This is the greatest legacy that Rose will leave us blessed with, a legacy of love.