Jung, Susan, Kathleen and I shared an apartment with Maria during our sophomore year in college. Rose visited often, and I had a window to a mother-daughter relationship very different from my own. She always showed such love, devotion and grace.  It was comforting to have an adult there who just enjoyed time with her daughter—no judgment/fuss of the mess and chaos that comes with dorm life.  When Maria spotted, uhm, an unwanted guest in her dresser, it was great to see Rose respond with such calm while the rest of us kinda freaked out—haha!

About three months ago,the sky turned blue at night for a couple for aminutes in New York,Maria and myself  were in the apartment  very scared running  around thinking of all the measures to take incase of a terrorist  attack or a UFOs dropping on the city,

Rosie as i usually  called was sitting in the black couch watching shark tank unfizzled by all the excitement  around her,we asked her why she was so calm and she said,"oh well it will soon be dead news" with a shrug,typical Rosie  not taking anything to heart and always reverting to the common sense analogy   whenever we sat in the couch  talking about life,for the past six months i came in to contact with her as her caregiver will always be in my memories




I Remember Rose...40 years of memories condensed into a few words.

Sharing our joint May first birthday celebrations—always chocolate cake, birthday candles and balloons. 

Watching “the kids” grow up and sharing frequent phone calls to monitor their progress. 

Gossiping while the girls rehearsed for upcoming Carnegie Hall concerts with the Youth Symphony Orchestra of New York.

That harrowing drive from Meadowmount and Montreal including being stopped at the border patrol. First question, “Where were you born?”  Rose—Greece.  Shawna—Germany.  “I thought you were American!” he exclaimed.  The long drive home—center lane the whole way—hands clutching the steering wheel eyes fixed on the road.

That mother-daughter trip to London. High tea at The Savoy. The kids hit night spots while the older generation did the plays—and almost got locked in the Underground, closing at the early midnight hour—unlike the NewYork subways. 

She was always there for me. Coming out, by herself, on the LIRR to visit me in the “sticks” of Long Island.

Dinner at Mammas Italian Restaurant.
Breakfast at the Oconne Diner.

Playing Oh Hell and Boggle between bites of blueberry pie from our favorite pie shop Out East. 

She was always my best friend.  And ALWAYS will be—my Rose. 



I'll always remember Maria running into the store, clutching a near-destroyed sheet cake that Rose had bought to bring in so that Maria's team could celebrate and have some chocolate cake. We immediately grabbed cash and ran into the NoHo Gristedes, grabbing a brand new cake and candles for Rose's "19th" birthday and gathered around to sing together downstairs.  Every holiday that we would be working, we could count on Rose bringing in food and sweets to keep us going.

Rose will be missed, it's a fact that I've travelled more with her than I have with any of my close friends. I'll remember flying first class to London with her the first time and sharing in the excitement, I'll remember eating dinner and seeing the watershow at the Burj Khalifa in Dubai, I'll remember seeing her poke her head in the Aubade shop window when we were in Kuwait City. Most of all, I'll remember the long nights I would spend at work when Maria Tash (the business) started taking off, sometimes until around 10pm, and always having Rose's company and hearing her speak about her favorite memories about her life and Maria. 

OBITUARIO

Rose Tashjian

1 mayo, 1927 – 21 febrero, 2019

Riverside Memorial Chapel

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