A Valentine for Ernie

Sorry for the long absence, my friends. My trusty PC is now back home from the Computer Hospital after a week-long - but successful battle - with a rather nasty Trojan virus. On my first day back online, I hope you will humor me. - I’m going to take a bit of a break from my India Journal to send a Valentine to my Dad. (And for those “fans” who have been reading my journal, I thank you again and promise to resume those posts on Tuesday.)

As many of you know, I have been cleaning and packing up the house our family has lived in for the last fifteen years. We plan to downsize. Sort of. I say that because, while we need less space for people, we will be requiring more housing for animals. It’s time that our fifteen alpacas come to live with us, and we’re looking for a small Gentleman’s Farm in seacoast NH or southern Maine. We’re a family of hoard…er, I mean collectors, so sorting into the “save/pack”, “toss” or “recycle/donate” piles can often evolve into a rather contentious family discussion. But I digress, and that’s a whole ‘nother topic that we’ll talk more about in coming weeks...

To continue.  Last week, as I was cleaning my office, I came across a copy of the eulogy I delivered at my father’s funeral. He’s been gone for five years now, but sometimes absence speaks louder than presence... And so, on Valentine’s Day, the day that honors all kinds of love – I send him this message of love – in thanks for giving us a comfortable life, rich with family gatherings and the company of good friends; for driving me to all of those games and play rehearsals and movies and dances; for his political passion – even if I disagreed, at least he cared; and especially, for his laugh and love of singing, those sounds I think I miss the most.

Big Daddy, wherever you are, Happy Valentine’s Day. Still missing you. XO K8

August 2005: (Excerpts from) A Tribute to Ernest Weston Stanton

This has been a year of both great joy and deep sorrow for our family.

On the eve of 2004, Priya Madeline joined the Stanton family, coming home with her new mother, Mary Anne, from distant Nepal. Beautiful, beautiful Priya. Her smile brought joy, hope and love into our hearts during the difficult Spring and Summer months. Thank you, Priya, for your light! And thank you, Mary Anne, for traveling halfway around the world to bring her into your life – and ours.

Early in the New Year, we will all stunned when our big, strong father took ill, requiring major surgery. While he was still in Recovery, Dr. Ejaiffee delivered the dreaded diagnosis to our family, the news for which no one is ever prepared: “Ernie has cancer in his liver, and at this point, I believe it is terminal.”

In the months that followed, as Dad faced his own mortality, he demonstrated a deep and remarkable courage. The way that he lived his life during these months, taught us yet one more lesson in dignity and courage. We knew he was a strong man. Brave. Principled. Loving and loyal… And yes, opionated. We certainly had many lively discussions, as he was a Republican AND Yankee’s fan, and of course, I am a Democrat and Red Sox fan…

His Catholic faith was unflagging; he never complained; he never blamed God for his illness, and in the weeks before his death, he received Holy Communion daily…He always had a bad joke to tell, and he told them often and well. His smile was quick and warm and enveloping. Ready to shine at a moment’s notice… He adored his beautiful wife of 52 years, Catherine, his four daughters and eight grandchildren. He treasured time spent in the company of his extended family and friends. We all have wonderful memories of New Year’s Eve toboggan parties with Aunt Ruth, Uncle Jack and the Stanton cousins. And then, there were Memorial Day and 4th of July picnics, celebrated with bounty-filled tables, in the good company of Uncle Ed, Aunt Esther and the Connors cousins…

He was so proud of all of his nieces and nephews. Dad was the last of the three Stanton brothers: Smokey, Jack and Ernie. When I called to tell Smokey’s daughter, Melinda, that Dad had passed, she sobbed: “Now all the Big Daddies are gone. They were the best fathers in the world.”…

Dad had a wonderful baritone singing voice. One of my first memories is of him singing “Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder?” and “McNamara’s Band”. He was passionate about trying new things, and when he did try something new, he threw himself into it with the greatest enthusiasm…There were the bread-baking and soup-making months, and the daily swims, ceramics. The list could go on. And on. And on… Most of all, he loved Ma’s good home cooking! … It seemed unbearably cruel that this man who so enjoyed his wife’s cooking should have that pleasure denied in his last few months of life…

Dad persevered through months of tortuous chemotherapy, trying to find a way to heal, trying to find a way to spend a few more precious years with the love of his life, Kay. So that he could attend the wedding of his first grand-daughter, Julia… He did travel to Julia and Cesar’s wedding in June, and his presence made a sparkling June day on the rocky coast of Maine even more joyous…

Dad didn’t have a very easy childhood. He lost his own beloved mother when he was only ten years old, and I think he grieved for her every day of his life thereafter. Dad painted a beautiful picture of Grandma Mathilde. How kind she was and generous, how he loved to listen to her play the piano. She was a gifted artist, a great cook… Not long after his diagnosis, he told me he was looking forward to seeing his mother again. 71 years is a long time to miss one’s mother…

Over the years, Dad was blessed with many true, lifelong friendships. Dad had two big brothers, Jack and Smokey, whom he looked-up to. The three, separated in youth after their mother’s death, were close throughout their adult lives. - What a team, those Big Daddies! His buddy Tom and he enjoyed a friendship that weathered more than 70 years, and his brothers-in-law, Ed and Father Jim were both family and friends for over 50 years…

Dad was immensely proud of his time in the Navy, and had a passionate love of his country. He never failed to choke-up when he heard the playing of the national anthem. He greatly enjoyed the reunions of his Navy squadron that were held annually. Many times he spoke about a Navy colleague for whom he had great admiration – Art - a pilot whom Dad credited with saving his life, many times over…

I want to tell you, too, about the amazing courage my mother demonstrated over these last few months. Dad always said he was the luckiest guy on the world to have Kay, and when he took ill, she promised him that she would take care of him in the home they loved and made together. “In sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part” were words she took very seriously. She cared for him with devotion, energy, compassion and a loving generosity… What became more and more evident to all of us in those last few months was the fact that Kay Stanton was also made of some very tough stuff…

Our family, neighbors and friends prayed, comforted and fed our family during these last weeks. Their generosity was truly an example of the “loaves and fishes”. Whenever we thought about preparing a meal, the doorbell would ring. And there was yet another kind face and a delicious, reviving meal…

I will see my father everytime I see my sisters: Mary Anne’s thousands of freckles, Eileen’s “Ernie knees”, the strong set of Patty’s jaw. My nephew Zachary’s long fingers and toes will remind me, as will the quick flash of my daughter Siobhan’s smile, and the sparkle in my daughter Julia’s brown eyes. I will hear my father every time my son Jesse tells a story. And each morning when I look in the mirror I will see dad’s nose, sitting just between my mother’s cheekbones…

I know of the love of my God because of the love of my father. I know of His unconditional love. I know of His fury, along with His forgiveness. I have experienced His tenderness as I myself was walked and rocked, and as I watched my dad walk his baby daughters, grandsons and grand-daughters, rocking and crooning us to sleep to the tune of Rockabye Baby, McNamara’s Band and, of course, “Who Threw the Overalls”…

Ma and Dad gave us a wonderful childhood, and created a safe, warm and loving home in which to grow and learn about life…It will be hard to come home without experiencing Dad’s bear-hug greeting. Yet, I know in my heart there will be another time, another embrace when we meet at Heaven’s Gate, and he is there to welcome us into that warm and loving Home…