The Old Man's Lists

Bob Rosslee 1925 - 2023

My grandfather, Bob Rosslee, passed away earlier this month on his 98th birthday. I had the privilege of saying a few words at his memorial, welcoming the guests and introducing the speakers that followed. I told a story that I’d like to share on this platform.

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Good evening to all of you here, who shared some love for my Oupa, Bob Rosslee. 

A couple of months ago, as I was on my way home from visiting Oupa, I spotted something that made me smile.

In the foyer of his retirement home, fittingly named Evergreen, a dedicated resident shared a list of the movies they could watch on their Friday Movie Night. The maker of the list asked the other residents to tick off the films they’d like to watch. The ones with the most ticks would be watched first. Democracy — at its best.

There were several movies that I wouldn’t mind drifting off to on a Friday night. But there was one movie on the list with several more ticks than the others - The Bucket List. A sweet tale about two old men, Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson, chasing down their dying wishes.

One retiree took things further and, in addition to a tick, provided a little commentary: “a very good movie”. Chuckling on my way home, I made a note to ask Oupa who this film buff might have been. While I knew that Oupa often skipped movie night, I don’t think that would have prevented him from having his say in the margins.

I’ve been thinking about this in the past two weeks as I reflected on Oupa’s presence in my life. In particular, the question: How do we make the most of the time we have?

And I think about what his answer might be...  I think he would say something to the effect of: Live well, but don’t worry too much about time running away from you. 

He is, after all, the only person who ever took me out to dine at a freeway picnic site. I fondly remember sitting with Oupa, Ouma and my brothers beside the N1, eating hardboiled eggs and roast chicken sandwiches, off a concrete table and chairs. With cars and trucks hurtling past us at 120km, I remember thinking: Why try get to the hot springs in Montagu in two hours, when you could easily stretch it out to three, three and half hours?

Oupa’s stories notoriously also went on a bit. The master storyteller that he was, would allow his stories to meander across the decades and millennia. His stories within stories were a common occurrence - and some stories couldn’t be told without telling a very important, yet tenuously linked other story, possibly about the war. He got teased by us all for repeating himself, but if you listened carefully you would notice new facts inserted or selective omissions, which generally improved the story.

I don’t think I’ll be the only person here emphasising how much my Oupa loved telling a good story. Nor will I be the only grandchild, or great grandchild, with many memories of visiting Oupa at Evergreen, or in Hermanus, and always leaving with a smile on my face. 

I do remember him making lists though. Especially his birthday lists. He jotted down the names of the people who called to wish him that day and by the end of the day he had two lists: the good list of the people that called… and the bad list. My brother, Gareth, once asked Oupa to read him “the good list” and when Oupa went through the dozens of names, popular chappie that he was, he started to read a former US President’s name. Once he jogged his memory to confirm that Bill Clinton had not in fact called him, he looked up at us with a chuckle and said, “Someone’s been messing with my list… You buggers!”

So do I think that he was the film buff that provided the commentary on the movie, The Bucket List — “a very good movie”? No. I don’t think it was our Oupa.

Because, his movie star good looks aside, I don’t think he shared that much in common with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman in the movie. I say this because Oupa never gave anyone the impression that he had unfinished business, or had any wish to live any life other than the wonderful life he led. 

Oupa was so loved. And it gives me great pleasure to welcome his family and friends to the mic to share their favourite memories of Bob Rosslee, Oupa, or as my dad and his brothers called him, The Old Man.