Rosalyn Hart Remembered

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My grandmother Rosalyn Hart died on November 9th and her memorial service is today. The picture above was taken in the early 1980’s at my grandparent’s house in Stotts City, MO, a place that we’ve all come to call special. Of all of the photos I’ve seen of Rosalyn in the last few years, this older photo says the most about her. She was a family person, quick with a smile for nearly any occasion, an avid reader and loved a good spy novel. It was my grandmother who got me hooked on [Clive Cussler](http://www.numa.net/clive_cussler.html) novels, reading copies from the local library in a hammock on summer nights.

From more than anyone before my wife, I learned about music from my grandparents. While Bob took a classic and “be bop” jazz approach, Rosalyn had more modern tastes. She encouraged me to listen to newer artists and be muscially open-minded.

Goodbye, Grandma. You’ll be dearly missed.

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Author: warwick

I'm a network architect in Springfield, MO. I like clever uses of technology whether it's in a data center or the kitchen of my house.

2 thoughts on “Rosalyn Hart Remembered”

  1. Steve – I’m glad I got to meet your grandmother – she was a dear lady and I remember her with a quick smile for everyone and such an engaging personality. You and your family are in our prayers today – I know it will be a tough time for you. We love you very much.

  2. It seems so easy to be a grandparent. Your kids get kids, and there you go. My grandmother seemed, to me, to always have been the person most likely to become a greatest grandmother in the world, because, to me, she did. Being a kid, she seemed to be magical.

    When she passed, and I thought about it to build a tribute to her, I realized that she was magical. She really could do anything that she set her mind to do, she travelled, and she saw things that my mother and myself would never see: the first automobiles, electricity, paved roads, the Depression, the War, and more than she could remember in her last days. And, because we were her grandkids, she knew we could do anything we set our minds to do, we could see the world, and we would become great.

    I really thought my grandma was special. But, then I read about other grandmothers and I realize they’re all special. That’s how they roll.

    The legion of white-haired superheroes, a super-secret society of older women who are empowered by time and experience to possess some magical gifts.

    Grandmas are like artists. Their work only grows in importance and value after they’re gone.

    Remember everything you can about her. Look at pictures as often as you can, and think about the memories that seems like passing glances at the time.

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