The Toughest Critic I've Ever Had
My humor column had mentioned how my wife once found a bat in her sneaker. Rosemary wouldn’t believe it.
“There are enough myths about bats and enough bat haters to fill the world without you sending out stupid bat stories,” she said. I was sure she was the president of PETA — People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. She wasn’t. She was just one very holy woman who quickly became a good friend. A good friend who would have taken great pleasure in telling me that Savannah, Georgia is spelled with an “h.”
With every column I wrote, Rosemary and I traded e-mails. She was the toughest critic I ever had. She suggested that the honchos at CatholicExchange.com, where my humor column is published, were “getting a little desperate” to put my work in such a prominent position. When I used the word “poop,” in a story, Rosemary chided, “Porn has raised its ugly head.” I loved her biting sarcasm.
Interspersed with her critiques, Rosemary told me much about her life and adventures traveling the world. She told me how she had visited Assisi once and had lived for three years near Pisa in Italy. She told me about the Mass she attended in 1956, celebrated by Padre Pio, the Catholic priest and mystic.
“I attended his Holy Mass in an open courtyard with hundreds of others” she wrote. “The Mass lasted over two hours and none of us were aware of the time elapsing. He blessed our tour group, headed by a Capuchin priest, same as he was, and I have never been the same since.” Then her wit crept in: “Forgive my passion for so many things but it is great fun to communicate with an honest-to-goodness humorist from AOL.”
Life Drawing to a Close
Finally, after dozens of columns and just as many e-mail messages, Rosemary offered a compliment. “This is a risk I will take,” she said. “The increase of your head size and the dumbing down of your humility. Today's column was the best ever and led me to tell many of my friends and family what they are missing… Down doggie, down.”
I was shocked the day Rosemary wrote that her health was poor. ”My life is drawing to a close,” she said, “but I will be with you and all you good people who give so much to our lives with the love and peace of our Lord Jesus.”
I hadn’t realized how close we had become until she told me she was dying. Rosemary was at peace with the knowledge that her life would end soon. She could even joke about it, often signing her e-mails “Still kickin’” and “One sick chick.”
“Every detail of my passing is taken care of,” Rosemary wrote one day. She wasn’t kidding. Rosemary hadn’t left anything to chance. She had selected her casket and homilist as well as the pallbearers (6) and honorary (26). She had arranged for her wake to be short with her “favorite young friends singing spiritual hymns.”
“I request nothing but joy and peace in the ceremony and the dress of the people attending,” she wrote. “The music will be upbeat and Father Tim loves to sing the liturgy. I told him if he would come I would pack the house for him.”
Rosemary had planned Father Tim’s favorite foods for after her funeral – not the usual ham dinner served by the funeral committee. She wanted lasagna, salad and garlic bread served with a good white table wine. When Rosemary lived in Italy, she learned that good Italian table wine was not only acceptable but wonderful. “Try Cribari in a gallon jug,” she advised. “Inexpensive but great.” There would be spumoni ice cream for dessert.
It Has Been Great Fun
Rosemary died this morning. She once suggested that I write “a humorous column about that crazy old lady who planned her whole funeral.” It’s hard to write something humorous with tears in your eyes. But my tears are tears of joy for Rosemary is now with her savior.
One of Rosemary’s final e-mail messages to me said, “God Bless you and your family with His special love. When I see Jesus I will give him your beautiful love. Thank you Tim. It has been great fun.”
Yes, it has, Rosemary. Yes, it has.
(To subscribe to Tim’s column or read more of his work, visit his Web site at homepages.udayton.edu/~bete.)
