His name was Roman Mathies; but to everyone at the cemetery, he
was just Romy. His wife Martha had died over 10 years ago; not a
day went by that he didn't visit her. Every morning...in his
chair...praying...and visiting with all those he encountered.
On the day of a terrible blizzard, one of our personnel asked Romy
why he had come out? He replied, "Coming to the cemetery to
visit Martha is my reason for getting up in the morning and getting
on with my day."
Everyone from administration, to building, to clerical, to Family Service Counselor staff knew, loved and/or appreciated Romy. He was
always described with terms of affection - "uncle, "big
brother", "grandpa", "friend." He truly
cared for people and always displayed an attitude that was positive
and cheerful.
Every Sunday, he would stop by the office to say hello to the Counselor, express his wishes for a good day and leave a newspaper
to "keep you busy". Often during the week, he would bring
fresh bread to "fatten us up a little." His thoughtfulness
struck everyone.
Romy loved to dance and enjoyed talking about it. He and Martha
had danced all of their lives together. After Martha's death, he
continued dancing with new partners. "Martha would have wanted
it that way."
We didn't want to bother him; but, a few weeks ago, after not seeing
him in several days, we called his home to check up on him. Romy
had had a heart attack. He was released from the hospital, but sounded
weak. As it turned out, he never came back to visit...at least in
the ordinary sense.
Romy died just a couple of weeks ago. We all feel like we lost
a dear friend. As we walk by his crypt at Holy Cross, we'll always
remember his kind words, the smile on his face and the things he
did to make our days a little sweeter.
We are still here with you every day Romy. Thank you for everything.
Most of all...enjoy dancing with Martha again.
