If You Didn’t Know Rosie
If you didn’t know Rosie, you probably would have known her, in just a little time. She was meant to be known. But time left her behind. She didn’t live past Sunday, January 3rd, 2021. Instead, we find ourselves in this din, physical routines, mechanical and dazed, continuing. But barely, and tear-ridden. We are left with an overwhelming burden of sadness, in the wake of her exquisite joy. We feel cheated by life, we lost our perfect friend. Rosie didn’t need any resolutions for 2021. She was an embodiment of strength, honesty, compassion, support, and creativity with a hilarious sense of humor. AnnaRose King, ARK, Anna, Rosie, succumbed to complications from cancer. She was 35.
Two years prior, she had been diagnosed with a rare form of stage-four lung cancer, which took her and us by surprise as she was a healthy non-smoker, and discovered it almost by accident . She found survival not just at the hands of the skilled doctors at MD Anderson, but also in her faith, and in her family and friends. In typical Rosie style, her website, which showcased her filmmaking work, now had an Advocacy section. In the midst of going through all sorts of clinical trials and treatments, she created an opportunity to advocate and raise money for research, particularly for women suffering from lung cancer, which is the highest form of cancer killer amongst women. At the end of 2020, the cancer had manifested in a new form in her spine and she endured physical pain that challenged her demeanor, but nothing was a match for her positivity. Rosie still smiled and joked, sending us pictures on New Year’s Eve from her hospital bed, with emojis. She loved emojis. Prayer hands, hearts, faces crying with laughter, glittering lights, crystal balls.
When our parents were sick, or in some cases very ill, and subsequently passed, Rosie was one of the first friends to send messages, checking up on us, seeing how our family was doing, sending her prayers. Her friendship was healing, it made us better people, our lives are richer for it, and now we need to transform her influence into our own daily actions. Don’t sweat the small stuff. Live fully. Laugh wholly. Love completely.
At our friends Tati and Pedro’s wedding in Mexico City two years ago, which was a laugh-filled NYU reunion, Rosie and her loving husband Mikey danced away. At the dinner table, she was cautious and somewhat refrained, and one figured that jet lag was the reason. On the dance floor, her silky blonde hair swung behind her as she sashayed with us in a glamorous black dress. She had incredible style, and great dance moves. A few days later, at Dimes in the Lower East Side, at breakfast, she took off her wig, and we found out about the cancer.
At Tisch Grad Film, known for its dramatic auteurism and inclinations for natural-light and hand-held-styles of filmmaking, Rosie created her own space. She focused on and stuck to comedy, often putting herself in her films, which were reflections on her own life. Her first feature, Good Enough, was about a young woman searching for a relative in the light of her father’s passing. Rosie’s own father had passed several years prior. A stalwart of the media industry, Roger King had accelerated the careers of some small names like Oprah, Rachel Ray and Doctor Phil (We kid of course!) syndicating their shows internationally. Rosie was humble and rarely discussed her family’s connections. She was very close to her mother, Alison, who was a pastor at First Presbyterian Church in Brookline, and her sister Lucinda. She loved her family dearly.
In the last few days as we’ve talked about Rosie through the tears, we have also laughed. We remember her mother’s expression and interruption attempts as the Rabbi ranted and rambled on through his wedding officiating. We recall the beautiful details of her big day, and, of course, the late-night pizza boxes, which arrived on cue for a second meal. But more than anything, we can never forget the energy of the room. In the double-domed beaux arts deco of the Weylin B. Seymour building in Williamsburg, numerous family members and friends gathered from various chapters in their lives. This couple was everything to everyone around them. The date was January 4th, 2014. Rosie died the day before her seventh wedding anniversary.
When the wedding announcement came out in the New York Times, Rosie’s burgeoning film career was mentioned. She built movements, started collectives, worked on podcasts about women’s health for Planned Parenthood, humorously, of course, all while writing and writing and writing, in spite of one Sundance rejection after another. Last year just before the pandemic, Rosie’s second feature film, Chimeric Rosie, about a young woman dealing with her cancer treatment, got into Sundance’s Level-Two program. She joked that she was finally accepted once they found out she was dying.
Rosie was also politically active. In the midst of the early debates when the presidential candidates seemed more diverse, she had put out this request in the Fall of 2019, to attend the debate in Houston where she was going through trials:
I’m 33 and I turn 34 the first day of the third democratic debate. It’s a birthday I didn’t know I would get to make after I was diagnosed last year with stage four small cell lung cancer at 32 (non smoker).
I am a supporter of Elizabeth Warren for president and am emailing to request a ticket to this debate. I live in Brooklyn, but will be in Houston for a frequent visit to MD Anderson for a CAR T trial I’m on. I would also like the ability to ask the candidates this question:
In a town that has become the epicenter for cancer research what would you do to continue this research and the funding for clinical trials under your proposed health plan?
Do you think you can help me? It is my biggest birthday wish.
Rosie didn’t get her question answered. So we use this opportunity to present this question to the incoming administration. Please answer us.
We never thought that Rosie could die. She was strong in her beliefs, stoic in the face of a rare illness, and she had so much life to live. Especially for her darling daughter, Willow, 4, and their family. Dear Willow, you look just like your incredible mother, and have the spunk, curiosity and the same love of life as both your parents, Rosie and Mikey. We will do everything we can, as her family of friends, to be there for you as you grow up into an incredible woman.
At this time, when a pandemic has created an insurmountable space, grieving has become harder. We find ourselves calling each other on Zoom or FaceTime or House Party, trying to make sense of this unfair reality, attempting to find humor in the darkness as our Rosie would. The lack of physical contact is more pronounced than ever. We look back on old pictures from film school, movie sets and various Brooklyn restaurants, gathered by the hip, hugging and embracing, mask-less and unaware of the devastation that we’d encounter in early January 2021. While other people chase their start-of-year resolutions, those who knew Rosie are reflecting.
How can we celebrate and continue the film work and message of our fearless and funny friend? Let’s make a plan.
How do we protect other women who have lung cancer or those who will get it? We have a charge.
How do we bear the loss of Rosie’s joy and zest for life? We change ourselves and embody Rosie from within.
While we continue in this haze, granted more days to exist in this physical being that the person that time should have been kinder to, we know that our lives changed the day we met Rosie and our lives are changing now that she has passed.
And we will make sure that you know Rosie, because she would have wanted to know you.