Thoughts about Var Rosenbaum

Var Rosenbaum holding Jonathan Ewell

We all know Var Rosenbaum by different names Dad, Grandpa, or Great Grandpa. No matter what name you call him he still deserves to be highly revered. For all those who wanted to participate we have gathered our thoughts and feelings about him. This was suppose to be for father's day, but better late than never. Have fun reading.


6-28-09

A great memory I have that will be treasured by the whole family eventually is transcribing cassette tapes for my Father, Var Rosenbaum. The first project was transcribing a recording Neal Rosenbaum made at a family home evening of his father, Bennie, who was answering questions and telling stories of his life.

Another project was transcribing tapes of Var’s siblings and spouses talking about the lives of their parents, Bennie and Mary Alice, and their memories of them.

Another is scanning some photos of Dad’s from his days serving in the Navy, serving a mission in California and attending BYU.

When I did these and whenever I get back into them, I have special tender emotions. I am grateful to have the transcripts and photos and to have been able to do this. That’s where the scripture comes true about turning the hearts of the children to their fathers.

I’ll include a photo of Var on his mission in California during the time of September 1947 to 1949, taken in front of the fire station that they lived above. Also, since we’re focused on fathers there is a photo of Bennie Rosenbaum, Var’s father. This was taken in Bennie’s backyard at his home in Spanish Fork, Utah about the year 1943. Bennie would have been about 43 years old. I couldn’t resist putting in one of Mary Alice Rosenbaum, also. She’s gardening in the back yard. See how gardening has been handed down?! We all love it!

Love your daughter, Colette Ewell

Elders Var Rosenbaum and Darrell Smith

Bennie Rosenbaum

Alice Rosenbaum

I remember Grandpa putting on his grubby clothes and going outside to do yard work. I remember feeling very impressed that he did so many things with his difficulties. Some of my best memories are going to Grandpa's house and eating hamburgers and desserts in the summer time. We also had a lot of fun picking cherries up high from the tree.
~Nathan Rosenbaum~

I always love working in the yard at Grandma and Grandpa's [house]. I remember playing soccer and Frisbee in the backyard with cousins and siblings and climbing the nut trees.
~Melissa Green~


Of course, I have many fond memories, many of which that have to do while working with him in the garden. He still loves his vegetable and flower garden and was delighted to have several of his grand kids over yesterday tending to his garden.
~Rand Rosenbaum~

The best is sitting in the basement watching BYU football with Grandpa. Grandma would watch too, in addition to doing other things. I learned at a young age the importance of BYU football from Grandpa, and this knowledge has carried throughout my life.
Spencer Rosenbaum


I remember many things about grandma and grandpa's home. I remember mowing the law and grandpa supervising, telling me the wheel of the lawn mower must be placed half way over the row I just finished mowing so all of the grass would cut evenly.

But as I look back at all of the memories, one particular day sticks out in my mind. Taft and I came to visit in February and we spent one Sunday at Grandma and Grandpa's house. This day made me so happy because my parents and all of my siblings were in the living room with grandma and grandpa. We caught up on the latest news and watched Kayla play. As I have grown older, those special moments of just enjoying grandpa's company have come to mean a lot to me. I am so grateful to be his granddaughter.

Love, Shauna Dorman

3-year-old tells all from his mother's restroom stall. By Shannon Popkin

My little guy, Cade, is quite a talker. He loves to communicate and does it quite well. He talks to people constantly, whether we are in the library, the grocery store or at a drive-thru window. People often comment on how clearly he speaks for a just-turned-3-year-old. And you never have to ask him to turn up the volume. It's always fully cranked. There have been several embarrassing times that I've wished the meaning of his words would have been masked by a not-so-audible voice, but never have I wished this more than last week at Costco.

Halfway, through our shopping trip, nature called, so I took Cade with me into the restroom. If you'd been one of the ladies in the restroom that evening, this is what you would have heard coming from the second to the last stall:

''Mommy, are you gonna go potty?

Oh! Why are you putting toiwet paper on the potty, Mommy?

Oh! You gonna sit down on da toiwet paper now?

Mommy, wha t are you doing?

Mommy, are you gonna go stinkies on the potty?''

At this point I started mentally counting how many women had been in the bathroom when I walked in. Several stalls were full ... 4? 5? Maybe we could wait until they all left before I had to make my debut out of this stall and reveal my identity.

Cade continued: ''Mommy, you ARE going stinkies aren't you?

Oh, dats a good girl, Mommy!

Are you gonna get some candy for going stinkies on the potty?

Let me see doze stinkies, Mommy! Oh ... Mommy!

I'm trying to see In dere.

Oh! I see dem.

Dat is a very good girl, Mommy.
You are gonna get some candy!''

I heard a few faint chuckles coming from the stalls on either side of me.
Where is a screaming new born when you need her? Good grief. This was really getting embarrassing. I was definitely waiting a long time before exiting. Trying to divert him, I said, ''Why don't you look in Mommy's purse and see if you can find some candy. We'll both have some!''

''No, I'm trying to see doze stinkies"

"Oh! Mommy!'' He started to gag at this point..

''Uh - oh, Mommy. I fink I'm gonna frow up.

Mommy, doze stinkies are making me frow up!!

Dat is so gross!!''

As the gags became louder, so did the chuckles outside my stall.. I quickly flushed the toilet in hopes of changing the subject. I began to reason with myself: OK. There are four other toilets... If I count four flushes, I can be reasonably assured that those who overheard this embarrassing monologue will be long gone.

''Mommy! Would you get off the potty, now? I want you to be done going stinkies! Get up! Get up!''
He grunted as he tried to pull me off Now I could hear full-blown laughter. I bent down to count the feet outside my door.

''Oh, are you wooking under dere, Mommy?
You wooking under da door? What were you wooking at? Mommy?
You wooking at the wady's feet?''

More laughter. I stood inside the locked door and tried to assess the situation.

''Mommy, it's time to wash our hands, now. We have to go out now, Mommy.''

He started pounding on the door. ''Mommy, don't you want to wash your hands? I want to go out!!''

I saw that my wait 'em out' plan was unraveling. I sheepishly opened the door, and found standing outside my stall, twenty to thirty ladies crowded around the stall, all smiling and starting to applaud. My first thought was complete embarrassment, then I thought, where's the fine print on the 'motherhood contract' where I signed away every bit of my dignity and privacy? But as my little boy gave me a big, cheeky grin while he rubbed bubbly soap between his chubby little hands, I thought, I'd sign it all away again, just to be known as Mommy to this little fellow..

(Shannon Popkin is a freelance writer and mother of three She lives with her family in Grand Rapids , Michigan , where she no longer uses public restrooms)

You must pass this on to all the mothers who have had embarrassing moments with their children. Isn't it great to be a parent!!!