Rosemary, one of four, first cousins known as ‘The Goree Girls’–As a little girl I looked up to all of them and tried to be like them. Rose, an incredible story teller and wise cracker. Whenever I was at their house I’d just follow them around–Rosemary’s humor was beyond funny. She had the timing, the quick retorts, the voice and delivery of a seasoned stand up and the older I got the more hilarious she became because I was capable of picking up on subtle things I couldn’t as a child. She always made me feel funny and cool and was so sweet and attentive.
This is going to be long and repetitive because…that’s my forte and I am feeling emotional.We moved from Memphis when I was ten and so our summer vacations were spent going back home.
The thing that made me happiest was finding out we were getting to see ‘the girls’ because that meant my favorite people in the world were going to make me laugh till I’d cry. And they did, every time. I wish I had a more specific memory, but to me they were all like one person with many facets that overlapped.
I do remember an incredible day by the pool at cousin Debbie’s house with my brother Jeff and sisters and mom and dad.
I was lucky enough to get to see Rose at my half sister, Kristin’s amazing wedding and reception.I will be forever grateful that Rose came because I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her. My heart literally skipped a beat when I saw she’d arrived and I heard that voice say with mock drama like an old movie star, “Joanna, my Democrat friend” and I said “Rosemary, my Republican friend” and we hugged and I laughed and I was again a child looking up to a beautiful soul, in a beautiful body with a devastating smile that spoke volumes.Whether I was six or fourteen or 56 Rosemary quite literally hung the moon to me.Cousin Debbie was there too and we all danced and laughed at each other and probably pulled some muscles because we forgot everything…time, age, distance and simply enjoyed a bond that is unlike anything I’ve ever had or will ever have aside from my own sisters.
My heart aches just thinking of you Rosemary. Your loving sisters, beautiful mother Aunt Virginia (who was teased endlessly but you could tell she loved it, as did my quietly bemused sweet Uncle Bill. The poor/lucky man completely surrounded by women he adored but who needed time in his den as well to decompress.
Those swinging doors in the kitchen always made me feel like I was in a Western…the back yard with lightening bugs in the twilight…And dear Mamaw–memories of being with one or two of them at her house and how they’d get her going and she’d tear up and beg them to stop so she could get to the bathroom which only encouraged more silliness, more jokes and one of God’s greatest gifts, the song of sincere laughter…What I think of most about Rosemary is that I loved her like the big sister I never had. I wanted to be like her. I wanted to be like all of them and be around them and will always regret that I didn’t get to grow up surrounded by the people that I loved and the most amazing and influential women in my life.
Whenever I see a rainbow I will now feel your presence as well as Mamaws’ who always said “rainbows are magical”– and (once that I know of)…”wishes are funny things.”
I love you Rosemary Goree Beckett. I wish you were walking this earth. The world needs joyous, irreverence.
God bless you and all of your loved ones, your husband Ronnie, your beautiful children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews, sisters and friends. You were a gift.
I am heartsick that the hand has left the glove–yet the hand is alive, over the rainbow forever reflecting light above as she did below. I heard this in the car today and thought of you:
“She comes in colors ev’rywhere
She combs her hair
She’s like a rainbow
Coming, colors in the air
Oh, everywhere
She comes in colors…”
