Last Sunday afternoon after church, we were watching Christopher when we received the phone call. It was my brother, Danny from West Virginia. I was told that Dad was not doing well and that we should come right away. As quickly as we could, we got ready and headed to Beckley West Virginia. It takes us several hours to get there. On the way there, we receive a call that Dad may only have a couple more hours and that we should hurry. When we received that call, we were still two and a half hours from Beckley. Unless you have been in this situation, you cannot understand what your heart does at that very moment.
Earlier that morning, he was able to talk but was ansy, and not comfortable. Just after that, it appeared he had a massive stroke and quit breathing. He was resuscitated but stayed unresponsive. This is when I received the call to head down there.
When Peggy and I arrived at the hospital we were greeted by some family at the entrance and was told that Dad was holding on until we there. I rushed up to Dad’s room and it was full of people but I could not begin to tell you who was there. All I saw was my Dad lying in that bed. He seemed comfortable but this was my Dad, I knew what was happening and I lost it. I knew the inevitable was near but again, this was my Dad.
After an unrealized amount of time, I begun looking around the room to find, the room was without all the bells and whistles you would expect. The only sound you could hear were the sounds of flowing Oxygen connected to his mask. He did not have the wires hooked to computers or anything you would expect in a hospital room.
I called out to Dad to let him know I was there. He was not responsive but he knew I was there. I saw Dad sick before but always knew that things would turn around. This time was different, as I was sitting there with him, I knew that would not happen. I began praying right there that his last hours would be comfortable and without any pain.
After a while, it was getting late and several family members left, we were going to take “shifts” around the clock of staying with Dad. Danny and Jill took Mom home to get some rest, she didn’t want to go, but everyone talked her into to leaving. My brother John and his wife Concetta, Dad’s sister Jean and her daughter Karen and Peggy who stayed the night.
A few hours later, I could see that the Morphine was wearing off. He become fidgety and you could tell he was not comfortable. I went over to his side, held his hands and ask if he is in any pain. He immediately squeezed my left hand. I tell him that I love him and he strongly squeezed both of my hands. My heart just about jumped out of my chest. He heard me and he told me that he loved me too. Well, I always know that but in a time when he was unresponsive, he heard me and told me that he loved me too.
We got the next shot of morphine for Dad and he became comfortable once again.
It was nearly 3:30am on Monday morning when we noticed his breathing became shallow. It was then that we call the nurses and they began to check things out. We make the call to Danny and Jill to get to the hospital. Within a few minutes, very quietly and peacefully, while Peggy was standing by Dad’s stroking his head, his breathing slowed then stopped. As I stood there, one of the nurses looked up at me with eyes of compassion and just shook her head.
It was at that time that the world seemed to stop. The flood of emotion and the involuntary reaction of my body became blurred. I can just remember my strength beginning to fail me and I became light headed. I immediately knew I had to sit down. All you could hear were the cries of Dad’s loved ones.
Once I got my strength back, I got some help and headed outside for some fresh cool air. I suspected the temperature was deep in the 50° at that point but it felt good.
By the time I got back in the room, the nurses had Dad cleaned up and he looked quite peaceful. The rest of the family, that went home four hours earlier, had just arrived.
We made the necessary phone calls and people began to pile in. I do not know how many people were there because many things are still blurry.
We went back to my brother’s house to try to get some sleep but that did not happen. I did lie down but could not sleep. After a couple hours, we got up and began a busy day of setting up the arrangements. We went over to Calfee’s Funeral Home and picked out all of the “stuff”.
On Tuesday, we arrived at the Funeral Home at around 5:30pm. We slowly walk up to the casket and see my Dad lying there quite peaceful. The Funeral Home did a superb job and it almost looked like Dad had a slight smile. Yes, I know it is just cosmetic but, knowing my Dad, he would want to have a smile on his face.
Sometime later, the Funeral home opened to the public and swarms of people came in. I actually meet several people that I have not seen for years. Very good childhood memories came flooding back.
One of the things this funeral home does is a video from pictures provided by the family. Dad’s video was amazing. We included photos from when he graduated high school to very recent pictures. The accompanied music was excellent as well.
The next afternoon was the Funeral. The Rev. Jim Meadows knew Dad and felt honored to preach his funeral. He knew Dad so well that one statement he made was, “If anything is broke in Heaven, Brother Stan is on the scene”.
We arranged to have a military tribute at the cemetery. Now, when we boys were still young, Dad would participate in these ceremonies and I can remember one time I attended. The VFW military men would stand at attention while taps were played and the men would fire their rifles. In this service, things were a little different.
Two active military men stood at the gravesite saluting as the Hearst pulls up. Once pal bears have placed the casket, one of the enlisted men begins a roll call. He started by calling each of the six VFW members by
military protocol. (Master Sergeant so-n-so… Private third class so-n-so…) This roll call was loud and hair raising. Then they loudly called, “Petty Officer Third Class Stanley Blake”, slight pause, “Petty Officer Third Class Stanley Blake…” Then quietly announced, “Petty Officer Third Class Stanley Blake” is missing and they place the helmet on the rifle next to a pair of combat boots and then they began to fire their rifles followed by an officer playing taps. Finally, the enlisted men took the flag covering the casket, folded it and presented it to mom. This was difficult for the family but very respectful and Dad would have wanted it.
Mom had an inscription put in the lid of Dad’s Casket that read, “May the work I’ve done speak for me“. This inscription could not have been more perfect. It was as if you could hear the crowd speaking for Dad. Everyone reflected that fact that Dad was the kind of person everyone loved. He believed in helping everyone that has a need. If he were able, he would give until it was not fare but would give anyway. He felt that you need to always help other with whatever needed done. He proved that philosophy repeatedly. However, it was more than a philosophy; it was a way of life for Dad.
I know there were time that people did not return the same gratitude but when they needed something, Dad was the first to give a helping hand. Dad was also the same guy that jumped in whether it was family or not. I know Dad has a massive extended family; he built through the love he showed to everyone.
Dad enjoyed many things. He went hunting every chance he could. He also enjoyed trout fishing and went every chance he could. I know what West Virginian man would not enjoy hunting and fishing. He also enjoyed singing. At the last family reunion, he got up and sang, “I’m walking the floor over you”. Even though he was not well at the time, but did nicely. Mostly, Dad loved and enjoyed his family. Dad’s love for his family was never a question.
Just be aware, that photo you take of loved ones may be the most recent photo in a video. Those photos helped to bring back the memories that are needed in this trying time. So, take lots of photos and videos, they may be needed for more than just a few laughs. Capture those precious memories even if you think, “I’ve taken pictures and we never look at them…” they may be needed for more than just a few laughs.
Some of the things Dad never had a chance to do included coming up to Columbus and going to the Columbus Zoo. He said he wanted to but never had the strength to make the long trip. He also wanted to take another hunting trip out west or a fishing trip up north. These are the heart wrenching regrets but I have learned a very hard lesson.
If you want to do something, make it happen right away. You may not have the strength to make the long trip.
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This post was written by admin on October 3, 2008
