Rosemary Lisowski was born Josephine in Chicago, Illinois.  She was brought home by “the Father,”  and “the Mother,”  to one brother, and three sisters: who according to family lore, would not tolerate their baby sister being given that “old fashioned” name and Christened her, Rosemary, for no other reason than they liked it.  Rosemary grew up during the Great Depression, and consequently her family had to move seven times before they found permanent residence. During one move, she jumped from the back of the moving van and broke her arm.  Otherwise, her youth was spent watching the gas lights being lit on the streets of the Southwest side; practicing piano; playing with her favorite companion, the family dog, Pal; getting up each morning to meet her friends and walk to St. Gall’s Catholic School; watching the Colony sign from her back porch; and waiting for the Milkman, Iceman, and Garbage to come by, pulled by horses.  Hers was a simple, humble childhood, and once, when “the Father” had to make a choice of either the house payment or the car, he chose the car, simply so he could take his children to visit family on the West Side. The bank would have to wait.

 

Like “the Father,” Rosemary chose family first throughout her long life.  She graduated from Our Lady of Lourdes Catholic High School just after the end of WWII. She was the baby of the family, and thus was not expected to do anything. However, her mother taught her from an early age that she was a woman, and nothing could stop her from getting what she wanted, while her father passed to her his gentleness, fairness, and how to love in her own way. She often said that her four years of High School were some of the best years of her life: her girlfriends, the Nuns, her education, her love of music and the piano.  After she graduated, she went to work. It was around this time she met her husband, at her cousin’s wedding. After a seven month courtship, he proposed to her while ice skating at the Graue Mill and promised her he would spend the rest of his life with her, which he did. They were married in May, that next year. They shared their first home in Evergreen Park, and as she liked to say, she “had it made.” It was there her five children were born. They grew out of the home in Evergreen, so they loaded up and moved to Downers Grove, where she lived the rest of her life. From there, the roots took hold, the branches grew strong, the seeds turned to flowers, and the flowers bore fruit. She raised their children in the Catholic faith, a faith that never faltered.  She gave her children freedom and voice, affection and discipline, made sure that they sat to the table, and had a bowl of ice cream before bed.

 

Rosemary was, due to the times, labeled a stay at home mother; however, she did not let that “title” define her. To those who knew her, she was first and foremost a teacher.  She often substituted and helped out at St. Maurice Catholic School on the South Side.  And for over 40 years, she taught CCD (Religious Education) at St. Mary’s in Downers Grove, providing a light and a path for the 1000’s of children she cared for, loved, and nurtured.

 

Most remarkable of all though, Rosemary had what the Irish call, “the gift of the gab.”  She was opinionated, outspoken, humorous, and gregarious; her conversation strong, her exaggerations outrageous, her way with words unique and endless, her love of story-telling and an interest in whoever came calling infectious and genuine.  Her voice was her way of welcoming and including all who visited a place at her table, a feeling of comfort in her home.  She loved to entertain, and be the focus of attention, bringing together family and friends no matter the occasion: birthday parties, anniversaries, graduations, holidays, you name it.  Her favorites were Christmas and St. Patrick’s Day. She welcomed everyone, and had great joy when family and friends gathered around her table to eat, drink, laugh and carry on.  Her table was not just a place to serve the food, but a place for all to come and put aside their worries, a place to sit late into the night and talk and tell stories.  She taught us that with a little love and good conversation, a big pot of stew or a steaming corned beef, a Nesco of sausage and peppers and enough spaghetti to feed an army, that life was good.

 

Like any good teacher, she provided a foundation, built not with cement and iron, but with values, morals, and principles. A foundation that allowed her children to stand up on their own two feet.  She taught them that destiny was not something pre-determined, but a result of the choices they made.  She tried to help them understand that the best decisions made in life were those that would not disappoint.  She allowed her children to make mistakes, but she also helped correct those mistakes, and lent a hand to help them bounce back. All things considered, she passed on her attitude about the key to life: “this is my house, I’ll do as I darn please.”

 

Rosemary would not want you to cry over her.  Throughout her life, especially near the end, she exhibited a strength and will to persevere and overcome whatever obstacle came her way. She lived her life like her mother told her – the way she wanted, and reminded us all that she “had it good” and she “did it well.”  She was many things to many people: a beautiful red-haired daughter, a devoted sister, a loyal friend, a loving wife, wonderful mother: she was Rosie, Mom, Aunt Rosemary, Rose, Aunt Rosie, Rosema, Gran, Granny, Grandma, Great Grandma, Mrs. L, Rosemary – just don’t call her Josephine.  She could cut you like a knife, yet she was capable of healing your deepest wound.  Her faith guided her, and helped her provide light to all who knew and loved her. She welcomed all into her home, and has been, and will continue to be an inspiration for her children; her grandchildren; her great grandchildren and to her extended family and friends, the many nieces, nephews, cousins and their children.

 

She never wanted to say good-bye, instead would always tell you she was counting the days until she would see you again.  In this way, we are all counting the days, and to paraphrase one of her favorite Irish tunes: If you ever get to Heaven you can bet your dollar note, the angel who’s at the table is: The Father and the Mother’s Rose.

Funeral Mass and Visitation Celebration: Monday, July 19, 2021, at St. Leonard Church, 3318 Clarence Avenue, Berwyn, IL 60402.  Visitation from 8:30am to 10:00am, and Mass at 10:00am.  Interment private.