Kathryn Marjorie Rojek (nee Stortz)

Last month my grandma Rojek passed away at the age of 88. It’s hard to fathom what a lifespan of 88 years must be like. When my grandmother was born into her German-Amish family she rode a pony to school and traveling salesmen came and went in horse-drawn carriages. By the time she died the majority of American’s were traveling via vehicles, airplanes, or trains and the need for traveling salesmen has all but vanished. Before she died my cousin sat with her and talked about her long life and the one sentiment that has stuck with me to this day is that grandma did not want to die. Ever. She loved life too much. I could feel this in the last few times I spoke with her. It was, in fact, her love for life that kept her alive so long. She had been admitted to the hospital on numerous occasions during the last two years and every time she fought her way out. This last time though, she just didn’t have the fight.

Growing up (and admittedly, to this day) my sisters and I fondly referred to grandma Rojek as “grandma with the buffalo” due to the fact that we were lucky enough to have both sets of grandparents and needed a way to differentiate between them. Thus, grandma and grandpa who lived in Buffalo, NY were dubbed “grandma and grandpa with the buffalo,” and grandma and grandpa who owned horses were dubbed “grandma and grandpa with the horse.” Even though Buffalo was far away I always felt a special connection with grandma and I attribute that to her efforts to be a grandmother to us even when she was so far away. Being the pack-rat that I am I have every card and letter she ever sent me. In the later years the letters dwindled but mostly due to grandma’s declining eyesight. I know that if she could have she would have sent a card or letter up until the day she died.

Her eyesight wasn’t the only aspect of her body that declined over the years. At the age of 34 grandma began experiencing the onset of rheumatoid arthritis. For as long as I can remember grandma was a giant of a person in a body, crippled with arthritis. Her hands were claw-shaped, her back was bent, and she could barely move her legs in order to go up or down stairs. Grandma was tough and as such she refused the use of a wheelchair in her later years. She walked everywhere no matter what. Despite all of her physical handicaps grandma did what grandma’s do best when we three girls would visit: she would feed us, visit places with us, and hang-out with us telling stories of her childhood. I think this just goes to show that no matter the form a grandma, is a grandma, is grandma.

With the passing of grandma with the buffalo I am experiencing the first big loss within my immediate family and every day I think of her. With that being said it’s not me I feel sorry for. I feel sorry for my grandpa, grandma’s husband of nearly 65 years. My heart breaks for him and the giant hole that has surely been created in the passing of his wife. I overheard him telling my uncle that after he gets home he just stands there and yells. I imagine after 65 years of having a person by one’s side yelling would be only one of many emotions expressed.

During grandma’s wake and funeral there were many things mentioned about her but mostly it was this: Grandma Rojek was not only a devoted wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother but she was a strong, brave, loving woman who was admired by many, many people throughout her life.  As a testament to her love and our love for her there are now three of us in the family who share the same middle name "Kathryn" in honor of grandma:  me, my cousin's firstborn, and now my own firstborn.

Finally, without wanting to sound trite, grandma really was an inspiration to anyone who has ever felt sorry for their situation. For half of her life grandma struggled with a disorder that would have brought any other person to their knees but never did she complain; she accepted her fate and moved-on, living her life to the fullest. I can only hope to achieve a happiness such as hers.