Nana's Place
Background Music: Ella
Fitzgerald Singing Duke Ellington's Sophisticated Lady
A Memorial to My Grandmother,
Rose Valentine Dressel
November 21, 1912 - June 29, 2000
|
|
Nana's favorite picture of herself, sitting at the
bar in the basement
of the home she and Pop lived in for 25 years in Brooklyn, N.Y.
|
On their 25th Wedding Anniversary.
Eulogy for the Funeral of Rose Valentine Dressel
By Dr. Henry F. Fradella, Her Grandson
Given July 3, 2000
at St. Gabriel's Church, Marlboro, NJ
A few
years ago, there was a big to-do about a poem written by Robert Fulghum
entitled, "All I ever needed to know, I learned in kindergarten."
Personally, I always thought the very title of the poem was preposterous, and as
a professional educator, I shudder to think that one could actually learn all
one needed in life without the benefit of schooling. But there is no escaping
the reality that the poem contained words of wisdom.
I cannot say that "All I
Ever Needed to Know I Learned From My Grandmother." And that's a good
thing, as the money she spent to educate me would be wasted if that were the
case. And surely the other members of my family contributed much to my personal
and professional development. But there can be no doubt that I learned countless
important lessons from her, some of which have turned out to be some of the most
valuable lessons I have learned in my life. She was, at the core of her being, a
teacher in the truest sense of the word - a person willing and able to draw upon
her inner gifts and personal history to help others learn and grow. I want to
share with you the top-ten lessons I think I learned from her.
I should mention that Nana
disliked David Letterman. So there is some irony in doing a Letterman-esque
"Top-Ten List," but I think Nana would approve.
#1. Give of Oneself: Nana
was an extremely generous person. In her life, she experienced first-hand the
hardships of being very poor, as well as the comforts and luxuries of living
well. From her, I learned to appreciate what God has blessed me with, and to be
generous in sharing those blessings. Mind you, her generosity was not limited to
the realm of the financial. She gave of her time, her spirit, her energy . . .
in short, she gave of herself.
2. Remember to Take Care of
Yourself: When one gives and gives the way Nana did, it is all too easy to
allow one's own needs to get lost while tending to the needs of others. She
learned this lesson as a child, and had it reinforced over the course of her
life countless times. Accordingly, she grew into a person who knew how to give
of herself, yet still take care of herself. This lesson of self-sufficiency
dwindled as she grew older and became more dependent on others - especially on
her husband. But in the end, Nana knew enough over the course of approximately
67 years that Pop would be there for her. In taking care of him, she took care
of herself. From this example, I learned the true symbiotic relationship that is
love.
# 3. Cook for Friends and
Family: Nana understood there was both science and art to cooking. Nothing
was more meaningful to her than to spend a day - or even days - preparing a
home-made feast that would bring her family and close friends together at the
table. The joy she took in seeing others enjoy the fruits of her kitchen labors
is beyond description. The smiles on satiated faces was the only reward she
needed. And I doubt any member of my family will ever eat prime rib, mashed
potatoes, stuffed artichokes, cranberry sauce, or French cheesecake, better than
she made it for us so many times over.
There were two important
corollaries to this cooking rule. The first was the easier of the two for Nana
to learn herself and impart to others: make sure you have help with the dishes.
The second corollary took her some years to develop; I'd venture to say well
into her 70s. But she got it, and we learned it from her. There's nothing wrong
with saying to heck with cooking tonight, we're going out to dinner and,
therefore, no one in the family has to cook or clean-up. Amen.
# 4. Appearance Matters:
My Grandmother Rose, more than any person I have ever known, appreciated the
true significance of appearances. She understood that people were often judged -
often unfairly so - by an initial appearance. So, she forever strove to make
sure that all looked as it should.
Living in this way ranged from
simple lessons she taught me as a child, like "Put things back where you
found them" and " Clean up your own mess," to the importance of
dressing well; keeping well-groomed; and making sure one's home was always kept
clean enough so that unexpected company would never be an embarrassment. Even in
the week preceding her death, she was concerned about her make-up and her hair.
And why shouldn't she have been? Throughout her life, people remarked on her
beauty and the level of sophistication in which she presented herself. I recall
nights at the Plaza Hotel when physicians, attorneys, judges, secretaries, and
housewives alike all remarked to me - then only a child - on how beautiful that
classy lady of a grandmother of mine was. Of course, always looking good came
with a price. All of us, especially Pop, always heard Nana say, "I have
nothing to wear." I have no doubt that the area of Heaven in which she now
resides, there are both malls and specialty boutiques within walking distance.
I should emphasize that the
importance of appearance was not limited to the visual, as Nana understood that
was merely superficial. Not having had the opportunities to have received a
formal higher education first-hand, she forever tried to impart the importance
of knowledge. Toward that end, she studied with her husband as he attended
college and law school at night. Even throughout the last twenty years of her
life, she read several newspapers each day to keep well informed so she could
converse on current events. She watched the news. She schooled herself in the
arts, becoming a gifted painter. She taught herself the rudiments of music,
learning to play piano by ear.
In spite of her obvious
intelligence and natural gifts, she was always self-conscience about her lack of
a degree. Accordingly, she instilled in her daughter and her grandchildren the
importance of education. Moreover, her generosity helped finance a part of all
of our schooling. I'd like to think that by the mere number of initials after
the names of her daughter and three grandchildren - indicative of the ten
degrees we have earned between the four of us - that she more than taught us the
value of education. And our lives are richer for having learned that lesson. I
have no doubt that upon arrival at the Pearly Gates, St. Peter welcomed her to
the Kingdom of God with a diploma bestowing on her the degree of Doctor of
Humane Letters, honorus causa, with all the rights, honors, privileges,
and responsibilities pertaining thereto.
# 5. Neither "Shop"
nor "Sale" Ought To Be Four-Letter Words
# 6. Laugh: Nana could be
very serious. Some even mistook her often reserved nature as coldness. But she
knew how to have fun. I recall nights in her living room laughing with her as we
watched "The Carol Burnet Show" and "Benny Hill." I can even
recall the first off-color joke she ever told me when I was in my mid-teens. I
was shocked, not thinking my grandmother had a sense of humor broad enough to
encompass evenly mildly blue humor. But she did. Even as she was in her hospital
bed last week, we shared smiles and laughs. And for that, I shall be eternally
grateful.
# 7. Touch: Our culture
undervalues the sense of touch. Nana knew the power of touch. She always had a
hug and a kiss for me. She held my hand when I was scared, even when I was a man
in my 30s. I recall as a child being sick, vomiting over the toilet bowl. She
held my forehead with her hands, easing the instinctual projection of my head.
She stroked my forehead as she rocked me to sleep saying "pee-po-pum."
As post-modern culture debates the propriety of public displays of affection, I
have even taken to what appears to some to be the radical notion of embracing a
student in a moment of need due, in no small part, to having learned the power
of touch from Nana.
# 8. Be Courageous and Strong:
My grandmother Rose was a strong woman. She had a deceivingly gentile facade.
But underneath what some might have mistaken for weakness in light of her
forever lady-like demeanor, was a woman of determination and conviction. She was
never the type not to say her piece. Similarly, she was ready to tell others
when they had said enough - something she was especially good at doing to Pop
after his second vodka martini, often with just a swift kick under the table!
Her strength of conviction
allowed her to survive many tribulations. She transcended a childhood of poverty
and heartaches to become a loving and supportive wife, mother, grandmother, and
great-grandmother. She endured years of worry as her young husband fought in the
South Pacific during the Second World War. She developed strategies to cope with
the frequent absences of her husband as he built a distinguished legal career
over the course of 40 years. She welcomed me as a high school student into her
home. In doing so in her mid-70s, she had the courage to face the challenges of
guiding a troubled teenager to a place of personal acceptance, peace, and
success. And she faced cancer with aplomb, beating it in 1986 and successfully
living 15 more years until lymphoma finally claimed her. But even in her final
battle, she was brave. Although fearful and tired of fighting, she succumbed to
it with the grace that was characteristic of her sophisticated style. The vigor
with which I approach the challenges of my life is directly attributable to the
example Nana set for me.
# 9. Coupons Are Our Friends:
Enough said.
# 10. Live and Love: By
far, the single greatest lesson I learned from my grandmother was the meaning of
love. The love shared by her and my grandfather Henry has always been a lesson
in the way to live life. Their marriage serves as my example of what a loving
relationship ought to be. Theirs is the type of loving, caring relationship that
I think each human desires in core of their being. The romance they shared right
up to the very moment of her passing is the paradigm upon which the poets write
the sonnets and the songwriters touch our souls in lyric and rhythm. They were
not just each other's spouses; they were not just each other's lovers; there
were each other's best friends. Pop often turned to Nana - even after more than
six decades of marriage referring to her as his "bride" - and say,
"Have I told you today how much I love you?" She would smile, laugh,
and say one of two things: "No, not yet today, so go ahead and tell
me," or, alternatively, "Yes, you have, but it's always nice to hear
again." Then they would look at each other with the "goo-goo"
eyes of love-struck teenagers and kiss. Surely, theirs is a love that endured
not only though nearly 70 years of being coupled, but also is one that shall
continue to endure throughout time.
The love I learned to give and
receive by their example will, undoubtedly, be the love I spend my life hoping
to emulate. And for that gift of knowing how to love and be loved, I know that I
owe all the happiness I might ever have in my life to my grandfather Henry and
my grandmother Rose. And for that, Nana, I can never thank you enough.
Conclusion
There is so much for us to be
thankful for here today. Nana had a very happy life. And that isn't just my take
on it. She often said so herself. And she was so appreciative of Pop who
provided that happy life for her. And I am confident that he reciprocates those
feelings in believing that she brought him a happy life as well.
It's hard to focus on the
happiness in this time of great sadness and loss. We must continue to remind
ourselves that the passing of Rose Dressel was a blessing from a merciful God.
Nana feared outliving Pop, knowing that she would not be able to take care of
herself. God made sure that fear of hers was not realized. And although she
suffered in the past month, she did not linger on for months on end in pain only
to die as a fraction of the strong woman she was. She was spared the
dehumanizing indignities of having strangers having to care for her. She was
with family in the week she died. And she passed while embracing her husband.
How good and merciful is the Lord to have brought her home to Him under such
circumstances.
With these blessings in mind, I
am able to be here today in celebration of the woman I loved more than any
grandson ever loved a grandmother. Thankfully, Nana, you and I had the type of
warm, loving relationship that allows me to be very much at peace here today,
knowing you are in a better place without having any regrets for not have said
something I wish I had. You knew my thoughts and I knew yours. We could talk on
the phone and you would know by the sound of my voice when something was wrong.
And when there was something wrong, you always knew what to say or do to help it
feel better.
I really only have two regrets,
if they can even be called regrets. The first is that you always worried that I
was alone. You often told me that you would rest better knowing that I had
someone with whom I could share my life. Well, I am not there yet, but I am
working on it, and things are looking up, Nana. But do me a favor - on the day
that I get married (and I will!), send me a sign that lets me know you're happy
for me.
The second regret is that you
never got to join me on a Wednesday night in New Hope. For the last two years,
all of my friends and family have heard me talk about the joy that Wednesday
nights bring into my life. Each week, I go, often with students and friends, to
the piano bar Odette's to listen to and sing with my friend Liz DuFour. I know
you wanted very much to come, but your health made that every difficult for you.
Since you were never able to go see Liz, I asked her to come here to be with you
today. But before I ask Liz to play for you, I have one last closing sentiment I
want to express on behalf of all us gathered here today in celebration of your
life. And it is a message of thanks.
Life is better for so many of us
because you were in it. You will be missed by us all. But our temporary loss is
the gain of those who went to God before you. I am sure that Uncle Mike, Aunt
Bea, Aunt Addie, Uncle John, Helen Rustittutto, Nancy Maccio, Vinny Nevins, and
so many other friends and relatives are celebrating your arrival after so many
years apart. And I suspect that somewhere up there, as you are all sharing
loving embraces, some on-looker in heaven is repeating the words that Duke
Ellington wrote, and countless people over your nearly 88 years repeated when
referring to you, "That is one sophisticated lady." As the last gift I
am able to give you in your presence, Nana, here is that song, your favorite, as
performed by my dear friend Liz DuFour.
|
