This is going to be an homage to my sister Rose. She passed away on Sunday July 8th at the age of 85. Both my sisters are very special to me. Not only were they my sisters, but they were also mothers to me. They took care of me from the day I came home from the hospital. They changed my diapers, they got up for me in the middle of the night, and they were always there for me. The only thing my mother did was breast feed me. They did everything else. If they had breast pumps in those days, I’m sure they would have fed me too. As soon as I got off breast milk, my mother’s job was done and my sisters totally took over. 
Rose is on the right and Ann on the left.
I remember when Rose was 18 or 19 years old and I was around 7 or 8, I would watch her on Saturday night getting ready to go dancing with her friend Bunny. Ann was already dating my brother-in-law Ralph. I was fascinated by Rose getting all dressed up, putting on her makeup and getting ready to go out. I would try on her clothes and shoes and pretend I was getting all dressed up too. She got a kick out of it. Bunny would come over and they would meet up with a lot of the guys from the neighborhood at the Stardust Ballroom in the Bronx. Rose loved to dance and when we were at weddings, family functions, etc. a lot of the neighborhood guys wanted to dance with her. I had so many photos of Rose and Ann when they were younger, but unfortunately lost them when I had a flood in my basement. Why the hell would I leave them down there is beyond me. Bunny dropped my sister like a hot potato as soon as she met Caeser at the Stardust Ballroom. Bunny got married and if my memory serves me well, she didn’t even invite my sister Rose to the wedding. That was Bunny’s main objective from the very start and my sister Rose told me later on when we were older and both married that she was hurt by Bunny and never heard from her. One of my sister’s other good friends was Rita. Whenever Rita came over to see Rose, she would always bring me a little toy. I was ecstatic when Rita stopped by because I knew she was going to bring me something.
Rose did a lot of things with me when I was growing up in East Harlem. She would take me to the movies and to Orchard Beach with her friends. There was an ice cream parlor on 86th Street between Third and Lexington Avenues in NYC across the street from the RKO. Can’t remember the name. We would take the Second Avenue Bus from 113th Street, see a movie at the RKO and get an ice cream sundae at the ice cream parlor after the movie. I got so excited when we went. It was a special time for us.
She met her husband Rocky around 1953. He joined the Army and studied to become a draftsman while enlisted. He was stationed in Germany so we spent even more time together. I was her baby sister and she took me all over. Plus it gave her something to occupy her time. I remember one time she was going to the movies with her future brother and sister in law, Joe and Angie and a couple of other people. I cried because I wanted to go with them. She told me that the movie was in French with subtitles and it was scary. I didn’t care, I wanted to go. It was showing at one of those artsy fartsy Cinema Arts theaters around 52th Street in New York City. At first she didn’t want to take me. I was crying that I wanted to go. So they took me to see Diabolique (1955) a French Thriller when I was 11 years old. I nearly jumped out of my skin when the dead body came to life in the bathtub with the eyes in the back of its head in the bathroom scene. Rose, Joe and Angie of course looked at me like “We told you so!”
After Rose and Rocky got married, they lived in the Bronx for a couple of years but then bought a house in Franklin Park, NJ where they lived for a few years. Rocky completed his education at night and became an architect. They eventually moved to Peekskill, NY when the family grew bigger. They had six children Donnie, Rocky, Jr. Maria, the twins, Phillip and Stephen, and Robert. Peekskill was a great place for the kids. The house was a raised ranch on an acre of land, but Rocky added a whole extension to the back of the house where the kids could hang out. My kids loved it. There was an outdoor room with a fireplace. It even had a fireman pole in the new extension.
Rose and Rocky got divorced sometime in the 80’s. Rocky passed away in 1994. Rose moved to East Hampton in 1988 after all her children were out of the house. You would think she would downsize, but she bought a big house with a built-in pool all by herself in an exclusive area of East Hampton. Rose liked her solitude and didn’t mind living away from the rest of the family. We didn’t get to see her as often as we used to, but that doesn’t mean we will miss her any less. Her oldest son Donnie, my beautiful Donnie, who I used to roughhouse with, Rocky Jr. too, was killed by a drunk driver back in 1992. She was never quite the same after that. I can only hope that he was waiting for her with open arms.
We love you and will miss you Rose. You never even got to eat the Pastiera this year.
[Donnie and Rocky, Jr. in their playroom in Franklin Lakes, NJ]
Hedy – I am sorry for the loss of your sister. I know you have said you were the youngest child with older siblings. I am also the youngest with sisters seven and nine years older than me. Almost different generations and sadly, after our parents passed away we moved farther apart geographically and then, emotionally. I think the older generations stayed close because they lived closer, physically. My NY relatives were never more than an hour away so visits were frequent. Alas – times change. When you write of the many shops and recipes using fresh ingredients I remember my Grandmother’s refrigerator in the early 60s. It was TINY by today’s standards. An itty bitty freezer was just big enough for two of those old-style aluminum ice-cube trays that we’d stick to our tongues! And the rest of the fridge held some colt cuts, milk (brought by the milkman, along with butter and eggs), and a few jars of condiments. Garlic, tomatoes, olive oil, etc., were often in the ‘cantina’, a small pantry which held dry goods. IF we had ice cream, it was a big treat to run after the Good Humor truck in early evenings with 10 or 15 cents for a ‘push-up’ or popsicle. Hopefully, it wouldn’t melt and fall on the pavement! It is a different world today and our refrigerators are only one manifestation of the change. I think that is why the old recipes become more and more important. Cooking the same foods and making the gravy (yes, it is ‘gravy’ in my house, too) in the original ways we were taught is a small way of keeping our customs intact. Besides, nothing captures a memory better than the aroma and taste of a beloved dish from childhood! I think it was Marcel Proust in “Memory of Things Past” who ate a cookie and was instantly transported into his childhood kitchen with his mother loving feeding him a snack!
Love these reminiscences but sorry once more for your loss.
love it, thanks aunt hedy
I am so sorry to hear about Rose. She sounds like she was a wonderful person who loved you and your family very much. I am sure her son was waiting for her with open arms. She endured the hardest thing a mother has to face. I was not surprised to hear that she was never the same after the loss of her son. Please know that I am thinking of you and praying for you.
Joan Allert
Just got around to reading this. Sorry for your loss. May her memory be eternal.
She was beautiful. Such fond memories of staying at the Peekskill house for practically the entire summer each year….with her, Uncle Rocky and all of my cousins. :*(