For Rose

Today I am staying home and remembering a friend who died Wednesday night at the hands of her sixteen year old grandson. She was 57, just a few years older than me. I‘ve known Rose almost since we arrived here in Oklahoma in 1998 when my husband was still on active duty in the Air Force and we were members of the Tinker Catholic Parish of St. Francis of Assisi.

Rose got me started in the hospital ministry, visiting and bringing Holy Communion to the sick and dying. I was in a lot pain myself at the time—my psoriatic arthritis was years away from diagnosis and treatment—and Rose helped me find the inner confidence to minister to those more ill than myself.

Rose always ran circles around me in terms of what she could do. She was brash and sometimes loud. Although she rubbed some people the wrong way, she had a heart of gold and would help anyone in need. After my husband retired and we switched to an off-base parish, I saw Rose less but got to know her best friend, who later became my oldest daughter’s Religious Education teacher and Confirmation Sponsor. I kept up with Rose though her. We often got together as a group and went out to dinner after Saturday evening Mass.

The last time I really visited with Rose was at my daughter’s Graduation party. Rose never missed an opportunity to celebrate ‘family’. She believed in God, love and family. She believed in the young grandson¹ who brutally took her and her husband’s² lives two nights ago. This isn’t easy for me to get my mind much less my heart around today.

I think it’s going to take awhile ... to say the least. I have been crying off and on ever since I heard the news.

I have heard and in fact already know all the truisms about such tragedies.

“She’s in a better place.” Yes, I believe she is.

“She isn’t hurting anymore.” Yes, thank God!

“It doesn’t help to dwell on how she died.” No, it never helps to dwell on violence.

“Prayer is a great healer.” It truly is and I have been and am praying.

“You will see her again someday.” Yes, the best thing about our faith is that certainty of eternity with our God.

I'm not looking for answers or quick fixes or even anything to ease the pain. I don’t need to have everything fixed today. I don't need any answers, because anything easy I can think to say just sounds trite. Maybe I just need to remember my friend—as she was—with humble gratitude for the gift of her life and all she gave me; remember her and grieve.

Here’s to Rose ... and Dave

May you live forever with Him Whom you served.

With much love,




¹The grandson is in custody where hopefully he will stay. He needs our prayers more than anyone; however, he also needs to be physically restrained so that he cannot do anyone any more harm.

² I don’t mean to ignore Dave, Rose’s husband, in this post. It’s just that I didn’t know him as well as I did her. But I do know he was a very quiet, gentle man who loved her.