Thursday, November 14, 2024
Eulogy for Roz Wadsworth
November 14, 2024
My aunt Roz was the youngest child of three. My father Bob was twelve years old when she was born and Aunt Bette was eleven. Bette always said it was like having a live baby doll to care for.
Roz was off to kindergarten when my Dad was off to college.
One of her fondest memories was of the family’s summer cottage on Webster Lake near Worcester, where my father and grandfather built many boats. My dad let her sit back to back with him on a rolling seat that would slide back and forth as he rowed. She felt like a very special four-year old!
Roz was nineteen when I was born and she made quite an impression with her straw flower shoes and sense of fashion—even sending my sister and me pink felt poodle skirts when they were all the rage.
I was honored to be a flower girl in her wedding to Uncle Dave with my big sister Sandy and cousin Roxy. I felt very stylish in my satin cream dress with its real mink collar—despite my red glasses.
Sandy and I both took piano lessons probably due to Roz’s influence on our parents.
And we had an album of her singing, making her the most famous person we knew. Ever the teacher, she was quick to correct my spelling errors—even into adulthood—making her just a bit intimidating.
Aunt Roz made us feel important. Every birthday when we were young she sent us a unique silver spoon which made me feel very grown up—mostly because I didn’t know what to do with them, but expected I would eventually, when I became as cultured and sophisticated as her.
Roz hosted many family holidays and reunions and always set an elaborate table. Despite the chaos of many helping hands in the kitchen she always remained cool and calm even though she was in charge—maybe because she was in charge! She was always a confident organizer and delegator.
No matter the size of the crowd, she never lost sight of the purpose of the gathering—sharing, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. Her joy-filled laugh, her musical voice, and terms of endearment like “dahling” brightened every visit. She became the Waldron family glue. Without her, we would have all spun apart. She was the youngest sibling but became the matriarch.
Roz’s summer invitations to Westport Point changed my life. Swimming In the ocean and sitting side by side in beach chairs sharing stories with her at Baker’s Beach, the sea and air awakened my longing to live near the sea so I moved from metro New York to Beverly, MA where I met my husband.
When our mother died, Aunt Roz stepped in to fill our sad and grief-stricken void. She showed up for us at the funeral and provided the maternal support our father and us four daughters needed.
Like everything else she undertook, she took her great aunt role to my children seriously and was always dependable—remembering their birthdays, giving them books, crocheting each one a blanket with their favorite colors, bringing them presents from her travels, and inviting our small family for Thanksgiving and joining ours for Christmas.
For five precious summers we came to Westport for a week or two—bringing our cat (and once, even her fleas). The gift of unscheduled time with our young children at Roz and Dave’s cottage at Westport surrounded by water, sky, flowers, birds, food and family became a much-loved retreat for us.
Wherever Roz lived, she brought her love of music. From music faculty at Barrington College, to teaching voice to private students at her home, then organizing Concerts on the Point, and launching the Matinee Musicale Program at Cathedral Village in Philadelphia, Roz was always busy inspiring, envisioning, singing, directing, coaching, mentoring and reveling in music. She brought joy, enthusiasm, humor, hard work and optimism to every endeavor. I had the privilege of attending “Camelot,” her last production at Cathedral Village where singers spoke of Roz’s creativity assigning parts that brought out their best. Their appreciation for her decade-long dedication and inspirational leadership coaching their talent, some of whom were in their nineties, was deeply moving.
I most admired Roz’s inquisitive mind and spiritual expansiveness. She grew up with a Congregational mother, a Unitarian father, and Anglican grandparents and had a born-again brother and an astrology believing sister. She attended a Methodist church, served as music director in a Jewish temple for two decades, and loved new age and Buddhist points of view.
Her favorite gifts were books, many on spirituality. From Coversations with God to The Dalai Lama’s Cat it was not unusual for Roz to buy her favorite, most recent book discovery--one that unlocked life’s deep meaning, or expounded on the power of the mind, or the oneness of all that is--for every member of her family.
How I miss my own phone “Conversations with Roz”-- hearing about a current or proposed endeavor of her favorite people--her daughter Wendy, her son David, her daughter-in-law Sarah, her son-in-law Alton and her grandsons Avery and Alex and granddaughter Nora; sharing our thoughts about a book, hearing about her current musical project or a story from her past, being outraged by some politician--we could always find something to share a laugh about. Talking to Roz would brighten my day. She was my second mother.
Thanks to Roz and her love of Broadway musicals, I learned to play many beginner songs from “Fiddler on the Roof”. I teared up whenever I played “Sunrise Sunset” because, even as a child, I knew our time here with those we love was brief.
Sunrise sunset; sunrise sunset
Swiftly flow the days
Seedlings turn overnight to sun flowers
Blossoming even as we gaze. Sunrise sunset, sunrise sunset
Swiftly fly the years
One season following another
Laden with happiness and tears.
During Roz’s long and accomplished life, she was always seeking in preparation for this next journey. Her gifts modeled so much for us, but here are just some of what she has forever left me with that help turn my tears today into the happiness of her legacy:
Love life, be devoted to family, seek joy, hear music, smell flowers, keep asking questions.
I am sure you have other gifts from Roz and that she will continue to add to her lifelong curricula for all of us, despite her having walked on.
Candace Waldron
1500 Old York Road, Abington, PA
