Rose Helen Bork

“Go, Rose, go!” was the three-word chant you would hear her shout as she revved the engine of her Pontiac Sunbird, hot dogging her way down Portland Street. If you were quick, you’d catch a flash of her auburn-hued up-do - a shade that put her own car’s coppery red finish to shame.

It was a bit that never failed to get a kick out of her 13 grandchildren, an audience entirely rapt by her willingness to let them in on the joke - no matter the age. That three-word catchphrase might also be the best way to try and capture the absolute firebolt of life that was Rose Helen Bork (née Kenny). Fiercely independent, impressively strong-willed, and always impeccably dressed.

Born the daughter of Johanna (née Rogers) and John Kenny, Rose grew up in a simple yet bustling farmhouse atop a hill in Caledonia Mills. She and her fourteen siblings learned from a young age to be as tough as the land they were raised on.

It was this kind of grit that carried Rose through life, and what enabled her to make her first brave move to the big city of Halifax at just 19 years of age.

With this fresh sense of adventure nipping at her heels (an accessory of clothing she was rarely seen without), it wasn’t long till she set off on her next big journey - and by her own admission, her proudest: marrying Patrick (“Pat”) Bork.

As is fitting for the globe-trotting that would follow, the pair began their romance by exchanging letters while Pat was stationed on the other side of the country.

Though she had many suitors, some of whom persisted to knock on her door until just days before her wedding (at least by her telling), Rose’s heart was ultimately won by her keen, dashing man from the Canadian prairies. They eventually got their Hollywood finish, and even a young Elizabeth Taylor and James Stewart couldn’t rival the pair’s effortless elegance when they exchanged their ‘I do’s’ at St. Andrew’s Parish on May 30, 1959.

A few years into their marriage, the couple moved into MacKay Street, where they would spend more than 40 years together and raise their four children, Rosanne, Carla, Yvonne and Terry.

And while it’s true that some homes are measured by their walls and their rooms, Rose and Pat’s was defined by the number of stomachs fed and jaws left numb from absolutely unhinged bouts of laughter.

Though visits back to the family farm waned as the kids grew, Rose took up the mantle from her “Ma” and continued the tradition of providing a warm welcome for her large and ever-growing family. We know her and Pat’s open-door policy is what kept the guests coming, but it was her dangerously addictive ginger molasses cookies that made them not want to leave.

Whether there was a bed to spare or not, MacKay Street was a place where you knew you’d have a spot to rest your head.

Outside of the birthday parties, weddings, christenings, and holidays spent nestled under Rose and Pat’s roof, the family will also fondly remember cozying up around the old kitchen TV to keep abreast of the latest ongoings of the Hortons and DiMeras, and the countless hours spent squished elbow-to-elbow on fold-up chairs and a piano bench trying to outwit the card shark in the many games she bested them at.

At a point in life when most people are preparing to settle down, Rose felt called back to adventure. It was 1982, and though she had no retail experience, a job at Sears caught her eye. Unsurprisingly to anyone who knew her, she was a quick hire and an even quicker success. She not only thrived in her new role but was soon asked to begin walking in the store’s seasonal fashion shows. For more than a decade, the statuesque beauty strutted the catwalk at Penhorn Mall - likely breaking a few hearts along the way.

It was quite literally her legs that carried her through this era. But if you asked her, it was her “sgeltoh”, a word of her own wry invention. When asked its meaning, her green eyes would glint alongside a mischievous grin, and she would simply feign that it was nonsense - though we all clearly knew how to read backwards.

This was the brilliance of her humour. You never quite knew if Rose was just being a little naive (unlikely) or had just cracked the wisest joke, sure to leave your sides splitting (much more likely).

Later in life, once both had retired, she and Pat caught the travel bug. Though they quickly made up for the ground not covered in their youth, zipping their way across western Europe by rail. Rose later bounced her way through Times Square and Florida to enjoy further travels with her children - the small cohort in this life who had the rare privilege to call her Marm.

In Rose’s passing, the family is not only saying goodbye to a mother, a sister, a grandmother, an aunt, and a great-grandmother - but they are also saying goodbye to a chapter of their lives that was guided by an iron-willed woman who carved out room for herself in a world that was not ready for her larger-than-life personality.

For Rose, her family - truly her own heart and home - were the brightest parts of her day. It’s a sensibility that she has imbued in each and every one of them, as they all still delight in saying: “I’m coming home.” In her own words:

The fire’s burning brightly

And tea’s a brewing in the pot

As we sit down to breakfast

With the porridge piping hot

Then Ma calls out so clearly

The bus is on its way

We grab our books run down the hill

To start another day

Rose was guided through her own life by her faith and her deep commitment to the Catholic Church. She and Pat were devoted members of St. Peter's Church for 46 years. Rose’s faith carried her through her final days, and back into the embrace of her husband of more than half a century.

We know you’re resting easy Grams, and that your prairie boy Pat has a (very) hot tea in hand to welcome you back home.

All our love: Rose is predeceased by her siblings Mary (Jackie) Wood, Hugh, Dan (Isabel), Marg Schmidt, Archie, Charlie, Doug (Mardie), Marion (Bob) Martin, and John and her grandsons, Sean and Alex Forbes. She was also predeceased by her brothers-in-law Tom Cahill and John Mackley and sister-in-law Rhonda Kenny. She is survived by her siblings Kathleen Cahill, Gerard, Gary (Sharon), Genevieve Mackley, and Jerome (Linda); her sisters-in-law Ida Kenny and Beth Kenny; her children, Rosanne (Kenneth) Chisholm and their children Ryan (Kathleen), Emily (Jake Planinc), Johanna (David Walker-Jones), Daniel and Sarah Jane (Daniel Hutchinson); Carla (Jay) Forbes and their children Matt, Ben and Scott; Yvonne (Dave) Iles and their children Caitlin, Erin (Cam Hayes) and Patrick; and Terry (Lynda) and their children Dylan and Alexandra. She was also blessed to have two great-grandchildren Alice and Henry Planinc.

Visitation will be held on Friday, November 13th at Mattatall’s Funeral Home at 217 Portland Street, Dartmouth from 5:00pm to 8:00pm. Funeral to be held at St. Peter’s Church (Our Lady of Guadalupe Parish, Maple Street) on November 14th at 10:00am. In lieu of flowers donations to St Vincent de Paul.