Rosita

Last year we moved into the Casa Grande in January for a three-month stay. One of our neighbors, at that time, was a lovely old lady we came to know as Rose.   She lived directly below us and was a fixture sitting out at the picnic table chatting with our other neighbors.  She had arrived at the casa early in December and left for home before we really got a chance to get to know her.

She would have been 90 years old soon, but passed away down here sometime in December.  She was loved by the people we know at Casa Grande, and from the turn out last night at her celebration of life, many of this community felt the same way about her.

In a wonderful ceremony lead by her son, Gary, Rosie was toasted and stories were told about her life and the visits to Mexico that, in essence, extended her life. She loved this place and from the response of the 50 plus people who attended, the feelings were mutual.

My best memory of Rose came the first day we had moved into our room. I walked down and Rose came out of her room dressed to the nines. Even at 89, she loved to dress up and go out. She walked past, smiled, and then jumped on the back of a waiting motorcycle and was off. Probably to dance and drink her gin and tonics. I hope I am that young at the age of 89.