Sharol Rozema

Mom was born as the great depression was waning. Life on the potato farm outside of Idaho Falls became a steady struggle. Food was rationed. Mom had her hands in the soil at a young age.
Red (nickname) grew into a striking beauty. She could party all night with her girlfriends, (aka DBE’s) then catch the company bus for the hour one-way commute to the Idaho National Laboratory in Arco.
Mom married a pilot. Dad was teaching himself how to fly in Idaho Falls. One day the phone rang. Western Airlines needed another pilot. He built a house in Centerville, Utah. We three kids grew up with a stream and a mountain as companions.
Red blossomed as she transformed herself into a tutor, teacher, nurse and doctor. She chauffeured us to dance, baseball, football, piano lessons. She gave all of herself for our growth, from children to adults, teaching us the life lessons needed to survive. She was proud and loved us more than we will know.
Sunrise brought Mom smiles. She finished 500 page novels in days. She enjoyed a cold beer and loved to laugh. Dad and Mom shared Sundays watching Nascar. She had a crush on Jeff Gordon. She treasured her dozen foliage hunting trips with Lane on the back roads through New England’s autumn. She had an intimate relationship with her daughter, Karen who later in life, cooked, shared feelings, shopped and for a time brought mom into her home. Red adored her great-granddaughter Adalyn Roze.
She cherished the connection she maintained with her high school girlfriends (DBE’s), flying or driving up to Idaho Falls on a regular basis.
As age stole her wishes, you could still hear the notes in her song by the little things she loved. Morning coffee and the Tribune, Merle Haggard, shrimp dinners, hamburgers with extra onions, chocolate malts, garden tomatoes, her rock garden, the Walton’s, a summer rain.
Mom was a creative person, never discovered. And maybe here is where Newton’s law can be applied to emotion. She gave away herself; unable to see her creative flare. She sacrificed her gift, graced us kids.
As Mom’s body began to fail, her mind turned against her. We understand now how difficult it can be to witness the shadow consume the self. Our feelings of helplessness grew.
The lunch visits that mom and myself had fostered into a special bond through creative conversations and smiles turned to staggering anxiety for Mom.
‘Sometimes love is not enough. Sometimes love is all you got.’
The family struggled watching Mom’s pilot light dim. We feel like we should have done more. In the end, Red left her suffering and this life on her terms. For this, she has our eternal courage.
In the early years, Audrey across the street, then the later years, Steve and Star next door, were friends whose love and conversation for Mom weighed more than gold. The family is grateful for the seven months mom spent with John and Elizabeth Peake. They cared for her as if she were one of their own.
Red is survived by her husband: Mel; Children: Ken (Amy) Rozema, Lane Rozema (Steve Hargin) and Karen (Jeff) Argyle; Grandchildren: Alyssa, Colton. Great grand-daughter Adalyn. Mom was preceded in death by her parents: Leo and Ethel Garner, brother Hank, sister Marie.
In lieu of a service, a celebration of Red’s life will be held at a later time.
You will be forever, missed, Mom. We love you. Rest now.