Rose Rosen: in memoriam 1887--1968

Remembering my dear grandmother Rose Rosen, my father's mother. According to my father's birth certificate she was 22 when she gave birth to her first child; her husband was only 23. Both had emigrated from Russia, according to my father's birth certificate. His father is identified as a "laundryman;" no occupation is given for my grandmother, but the document does note that newborn Joseph ( later changed to "George," by school authorities) is the couple's first child. They resided on 365 Osborn Street in Brooklyn.
My first memories of my grandmother Rose (maiden name Engleman) is of a very happy cheerful mirthful person who brought candy when she visited her son's family. Of course my brother paul Peter Rosen and I loved the candy, and by extension loved our grandmother. Long after she had died in 1968, I began to wonder about who she was really and what she had experienced. After her beloved husband Morris died and her second - born Jack Rosen, a lawyer died at age 39, she began to change. Growing up in a large family with sisters and cousins, her circle dwindled and in the end she lived alone in the Bronx, in an area that had become risky. Nonetheless she refused to move; an independent spirit she resided alone long after her family was deceased, except for her son George and his family. At 81 she had a stroke and went into a coma from which she never emerged. Now, as I approach her age, I wonder how she faced the rigors of aging. She read Yiddish newspapers, knew well what was happening in the world; she was nobody's fool and held strong opinions. But she was not biased; her open-mindedness was impressive. When I was married to Richard Brignoli she did not object that he was not of the same faith; indeed the two formed a strong bond. In an era when racial and ethnic stereotypes prevailed, she held herself apart from those prejudices. An independent minded woman, and a loving grandparent, Grandma supported her grandchildren emotionally with tremendous feeling and strength. I have chosen two pictures of my grandmother: when she was a young woman in her twenties and later in life, in her forties or early fifties . She is talking to one of her sisters. What happened to this large family? Silently, they disappeared from my life. Perhaps my brother Dr. Paul Peter Rosen, the eminent pathologist recalls, but since he decided he no longer wanted to have contact with me about six year ago--or is it longer now?-- I do not know how these blanks can be filled in and the family made whole again.