Branching Out - In Loving Memory of Dad (03/25/42 - 10/23/96)

In Loving Memory - John H. Stary
A Daughter's Tribute to Her Dad, Best Friend, Confidante and Mentor
"Treasure added 25 May 2000"

A son, a grandson, a nephew, a brother, an uncle, a husband, a father, a grandfather, my best friend. Dad was many things to many people, impacting each life he touched for the better.

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IT ALL STARTED...

September 11, 1995 was a Monday night. I had stopped by Mom and Dad's after work and Dad just didn't look right. He pooh-poohed my concerns but something told me he needed a hospital. I gave him the option: he could come voluntarily or forcibly.

After a few hours on a heart monitor, the ER doctors decided to admit him and schedule a heart catherization. The cath showed significant blockage in the main artery of his heart and bypass surgery was scheduled for Wednesday, September 13th.

Dad breezed through surgery and was back to work three months later. Although he would never be the same man who went into surgery, he was alive and doing well.

THE DAY DAD DIED

Wednesday, October 23, 1996. Mom woke me at 5:30 a.m., like she always does. I could hear Dad in the background preparing for work but he was running late. As Mom stood at the door to wave goodbye, she commented, "He didn't even wave."

Upon returning from lunch, the message light on my phone was flashing. I found three messages from my brother, John. "Dad's had an accident. I've got Mom and Kathy with me. Call me on the cell phone." My heart was pounding as I dialed the unfamiliar number. I needed to get to University Hospitals as fast as I could. Luckily, I had driven to work that day so I headed out not knowing what was waiting for me.

I remember walking into the ER. I remember seeing the doctor come in. I remember talking to the mortician about organ donor. I remember asking Mom if it would be all right if there was an autopsy performed. I remember praying with the chaplain. I don't remember hearing the words that Dad had died. My family, however, does remember my reaction to hearing those words. I screamed, I cried, I ranted and raved to the point where the doctor offered to sedate me. Mom told her to leave me alone: "She needs to face this sooner or later and it might as well be now." I don't remember it.

DAD'S WAKE AND FUNERAL

How surreal is it to see your father, the man you thought would never die, in a much-too-expensive box of Spanish Oak? To see friends and family dazed and confused? To see your mother in a fog, lost and alone? These are things I never thought I'd see but I did on October 27, 1996.

After Dad died, there were things to be taken care of; what would he wear? where would we bury him? could we have a Mass of Christian Burial?

What he would wear was easy -- we dressed Dad as we all knew he'd want to be dressed -- red flannel shirt, blue jeans, his Willie Nelson bandana, his Indians ball cap and his much-loved loafers. We made sure his glasses were in his pocket as well as a mechanical pencil (he was never without one) and some hard candy as he'd quit smoking after surgery. Mom lovingly put her class ring on his right pinky and I gave him a Key pin (as I work for KeyCorp). There was an American flag at his head as he was a veteran and a custom ball cap which said "You'll be missed".

Where we'd bury Dad was another no-brainer. Holy Cross is where his grandparents are and where his parents will one day be. We found a lovely spot near trees but not near the street as he'd lived by a freeway for over 25 years -- my brothers figured he's enjoy the peace and quiet.

As Dad wasn't a practicing Catholic, we didn't know if we'd be able to bury him from a Catholic church. To some, this might not seem like a big deal but I think my sister and grandmother needed a mass for some closure so Dad's funeral, officiated by two priests, was held at the family parish; the church where he was baptized, where he was an altarboy, where he made his First Holy Communion.

People I haven't seen in years came to the wake -- my co-workers, former teachers, Dad's co-workers, friends from our years in scouting, high school friends, it was amazing. The number of visitors was a testament to the man who is my dad, loved and respected and, yes, even feared, by everyone who knew him. But what struck me the most, and what people still tell me, was how much fun Dad's wake was. It was a celebration of his life. There was laughter amidst the tears in an almost party atmosphere.

The funeral on Monday was emotional to say the least. Hearing the priests drone on about Dad's joyous return to God didn't make me feel any better. Watching my youngest brother read a eulogy he and brother Chris worked on into the wee hours of the night was heartbreaking. And seeing that flagged-draped casket placed into the back of the hearse was more than I could handle. A procession of over 50 cars followed Dad to Holy Cross. It was cold and there was snow on the ground. I remember my brothers and my uncles struggling to get up the small incline without falling. I remember hearing Father Al speak the words I've heard a hundred times since. I remember watching my brothers, all former Navy men, fold the flag. I remember my Uncle Jim giving Mom the folded flag.

Believe it or not, there were many comedic moments during the wake and funeral but those tales are for another day. I know Dad's suffering is over. I know he's in a better place. I know he is looking after his grandson Sebastian. Knowing this, however, does not make his death any easier to understand or accept.

I love you, Dad and miss you very much!

NOTE: My brother James was stationed in Pensacola, Florida when he learned Dad had died. Before he left for home, a Vice Admiral presented him with a posthumous commendation.

Pvt. John H. Stary

Mr. and Mrs. John H. Stary, May 4, 1964

High School Mary Lucille Muran

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The front of Dad's prayer card.

And He will raise you up on eagle's wings ...

The back of Dad's prayer card.

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Eulogy, written by son Chris, delivered by son James on October 28, 1996:

My brother Chris and I each worked on a eulogy for our father. I stayed up until the wee hours of this morning trying to combine the two. As I looked at each one, I realized mine was more traditional and run-of-the-mill, something you'd hear at your usual funeral service. Chris' was more unique and out-of-the-ordinary and that was my father...unique...so now, I'll read my brother's eulogy...

Dear Dad:

Today, all of your family and friends have gathered together in a joint attempt to accomplish a monstrous feat. We’ve all come to somehow try to say "Goodbye." How are we going to do this you wonder? Honestly, Dad, I couldn’t say. You meant so many different things to so many different people. Be it a gracious host, a good friend, a diligent worker or a wise tutor. You were always a devoted brother, a loving son, a faithful husband and a wonderful father. To your girls, you’ll always be "Daddy" and to us boys, simply "Dad". Every one of us will remember some aspect of you that together made up the man that was you.

Although we place the part of you we all knew as you to rest, the part of you we all loved will live on in each of us. The shock and grief of your leaving us will, in time, pass but your memory will never die. It’s hard to imagine just how many lives you touched in that way that only you could. From each and everyone one of us, our sincerest thanks and our promise to you...to never forget.

We all love you. Rest in peace, Dad.


John H. Stary Proudly Served in the US Army

"Taps"

John H. Stary is a Cold War Veteran

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