He seemed to do okay with the surgery. He asked to be baptized while he was in ICU. After a few days of recovery, he was moved to the rehab facility in Williamsport. He wasn't getting any better. He still lacked mobility and began slurring his speech. ER visit #3. The worst day of my life. He was delirious. His head hurt. They said he had pneumonia and put him on antibiotics. I was scared. Mom and Robin were sick and hadn't been able to see him for several days. Dennis had declined pleas from everyone to come home to see his father.
One doctor wanted to do an MRI to see if my dad had an abscess or infection in his brain. This scared Dad because of his intense claustrophobic fears. The doctors couldn't explain his very slurred speech and lack of progress. When the surgeon came to see my dad, my dad told him that he didn't want any more tests, treatment, or anything. I spent that night with him at the hospital. Dad qualified for hospice. He went home to die. The nine longest days of my life. He asked to see a lamb one last time. His grandchildren visited. Robin took care of him around the clock. He seemed to be at peace when he died. Dennis finally came home, but at that point Dad could no longer communicate.
When the funeral home came, they draped an American flag over him as they wheeled him out. This is a privilege granted to all veterans. This country does some things right. Dad was a veteran, having served during the time of the Korean War. Dad was to be cremated. I suggested they dress him in his Hagerstown Suns jersey. In his latter years, baseball had become a big part of Dad's life. We went to lots of Hagerstown Suns games and both became avid Washington Nationals fans. I so regretted that Dad hadn't been able to enjoy the Nationals incredible journey to the World Series and championship later in the year.
We had one last chance to see Dad (in the casket) at the funeral home (before cremation). It was heart-wrenching. He didn't look like himself. He looked like his dad, thinner and gaunt. I have a small vase with some of Dad's ashes. If I ever get back to Alaska, I'm going to spread his ashes. He loved Alaska, though he'd never been. When Mom passes, her ashes will be combined with his for burial.
Dad's memorial service was special. It started with a military salute. Mom received a folded American flag. The pastor from the local Lutheran Church did a great job, even though she didn't know my dad very well. Robin and I spoke from our hearts. They were the hardest words I ever spoke. Dennis declined. He has no heart. Dad's best friend Ron said a few words. His wife Sheila read a Bible verse. Dad's friend Doris told a baseball story. We sang "Take me out to the ballpark."
Attendees included people from all aspects of dad's life, including people he didn't know well, like some of my friends and co-workers. Jenny Miller brought her dad Charles, who was confined to a wheel chair after having suffered a stroke. The Millers were long time neighbors on Trotter Road. Josephine and Samantha remained in the Philippines, choosing not to be there to pay their last respects to their father in law and grandfather (Papa). Myrna and her husband traveled all the way from Washington state to attend the service.
There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about my dad. He was more than just a father to me. He was my friend. He was my mentor. He was someone I looked up to, a hero. He was my baseball buddy. We shared so many common interests. I'm a a lot like him. He was a good man. A good husband, father, grandfather, son, and friend. We all miss him terribly.
Walter Edward Schoenian, Jr.
July 13, 1930 - April 14, 2019
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