Rosalie Ann Harvey

"SON OF A BISCUIT!"

If those words came flying out of the kitchen, there was a good chance Rosalie Harvey had just burned her hand on something hot.

Again.

Whatever happened, dinner was still going to make it to the table.

That was Rosalie.

Rosalie Harvey, 71, was a devoted mother, loyal friend, incredible cook, animal lover, and caring wife to Grant Harvey Sr., her husband of 49 years. Together, Rosalie and Grant built nearly half a century of marriage, family, and memories.

Born in California, Rosalie later attended Hartwood Private School in Albuquerque. She grew up without much guidance or a clear roadmap for how life was supposed to go. So Rosalie did what Rosalie often did: she figured it out herself.

She found her own way and built her family around a vision of what she believed a home should be. Her priorities were pretty clear. There should always be more than enough food, plenty of care, and absolutely no shortage of parental oversight.

And she did a great job.

Rosalie wanted her family taken care of, fed, watched over, and raised properly. Occasionally, that oversight came with a warning familiar to her children:

"One more word... and you're grounded for a week."

There was apparently no appeals process.

Rosalie believed in presenting yourself well and took tremendous pride in herself, her family, and everything she and Grant built together. She had her signature pink lipstick, favorite perfumes, and an elegance entirely her own. If something could be made a little nicer or presented a little better, Rosalie was going to do it.

She also believed in manners.

Please. Thank you. Be polite.

These were not suggestions either.

Rosalie was an amazing cook and baker. She made countless dishes and desserts and took pride in bringing something memorable to family gatherings. Showing up with something ordinary wasn't really her style.

Take Easter.

A normal person might make a carrot cake.

Rosalie made a carrot cake covered with coconut flakes she carefully dyed different colors to create the perfect Easter look. Of course the cake was made in the shape of a bunny and it was sitting upright on a bed of edible grass.

Christmas and birthdays were the celebrations the family hosted at home, and Rosalie made them count. Christmas required a tree, but not a sensible tree. She wanted the tallest Christmas tree she could possibly fit inside the house. If getting it through the door didn't require some planning and questionable decision making, it probably wasn't big enough.

Rosalie loved antiques, Kit Kat clocks, and animals, especially cats and dogs. She also appreciated a proper Seagram's 7 and 7.

Then there was parking.

Rosalie could spend 10 minutes driving around a parking lot to save 20 seconds of walking.

Mathematically, it made absolutely no sense.

To Rosalie, it made perfect sense.

Seatbelts were another matter. Rosalie and the seatbelt never developed much of a relationship, which makes another fact considerably funnier: she wanted to go skydiving.

She never did.

Perhaps somewhere there is a skydiving instructor grateful he never had to explain to Rosalie that these particular straps were mandatory.

Rosalie also dreamed of being on Wheel of Fortune. Unlike most people yelling answers from the couch, she actually tried. She made it to the third round of contestant selection. She never got to spin the famous wheel, but anyone who knew her can imagine Rosalie arriving camera ready, pink lipstick on, and prepared to solve the puzzle.

Rosalie and Grant had game show credentials anyway. They once won the Newlywed Game at the New Mexico State Fair. After 49 years of marriage, they clearly knew each other pretty well. Of course, knowing what your spouse will say and agreeing with it are two different things.

Rosalie also served as a nanny for her friend Tara, another role that suited someone who spent so much of her life looking after others.

Beneath the humor, perfume, lipstick, cooking, and stubborn streak was an extraordinarily strong woman. Rosalie battled breast cancer twice.

She beat it twice.

But cancer does not define Rosalie's story. There are far better things to remember.

What deserves to define her story is what she built.

Rosalie started without much of a roadmap, so she drew her own. She created the family life she envisioned and made sure there was always enough. Enough food. Enough care. Enough supervision. Sometimes, according to her children, perhaps a little more than enough supervision.

She wanted things done well. She wanted her children to have manners. She wanted people to be fed. She wanted her family to present themselves with pride. And she wanted the people around her to know that somebody was paying attention.

That was Rosalie.

She figured things out. She persevered. She raised her family. She stood beside Grant for 49 years. And along the way, she created a lifetime of stories that will keep being told, usually with a laugh.

There will be an empty place now where a wife, a mom, and an unforgettable presence used to be. But there is also something lasting in knowing that Rosalie accomplished what she set out to do.

She built her family her way, and she did a great job.

And if you ever talked with Rosalie on the phone, you know there is really only one appropriate way to end this.

The same way she ended so many conversations with us:

"Toodle loo!"

Toodle loo, Rosalie. Rest peacefully. We'll take it from here. You were deeply cherished, you will be dearly missed.

What Rosalie Built

She found her way where no clear path was shown,
Then built a home more certain than her start;
With steady hands, fierce will, and open heart,
She gave her children more than she had known.
Cacciatore simmered, love made known,
Stroganoff and Parmesan became her art;
Green chile enchiladas, hot and sharp,
And every feast said, You are safe at home.

At Christmas, sweaters brightened every year,
Stuffed stockings waited, filled beyond the brim;
At Easter, baskets brought that morning cheer,
And children's joy would bring her warmest grin.
Twice cancer came; twice she refused to fall,
For Grant, her children, family were her all.