Page 87 - Armstrong Bloodline - ebook_Neat

common and that Peter genuinely cared for him. As they talked about things that dad had taught him and the
experiences they had shared, Peter mentioned several times that he had been fortunate to have been able “to
take my place” in my father’s life. This was not stated in a mean-spirited way, but as a way of expressing that
my father meant a lot to him. Such an obviously sincere expression of love was perhaps the single most
important thing that I took away with me from this paternal encounter. It may be a bit difficult for me to put
into words, but the fact that someone cared so much for my father, meant that he had finally reached a point
in his life where he was able to take on responsibility as a father, mentor and provider and that this time he
apparently “got it right”.

When we concluded our visit, I hugged my father and told him how much I had enjoyed our visit. As I went to
get the van, Peter followed me and left me with what is perhaps as concise yet meaningful a eulogy as a man
could want; When you write about your father, he said; say that he was a good man. Although my father was
certainly not an angel, I am somewhat more ready now to think that perhaps he finally did find the life he was
looking for after all those women and all those years.

A couple of weeks after we returned to our home in Merritt Island, FL I called him again and he repeated how
much he had enjoyed our visit. He went on to say that after our visit he liked me more now than he ever did
and that maybe we have both matured some. Like is not as strong a word as love, but it still meant a lot to hear
him say it.

Another ten years passed and except for an occasional telephone call we had little further contact with my
father. We did, however, learn that he and Myrtle had moved back into their house in Metairie, LA, a suburb of
New Orleans. Finally in March 2005 I got a call from Peter who informed me that Dad had suffered a stroke
and was not in good shape. I flew to New Orleans to see him and was again surprised at how much he had
aged. I spend several days there and although I visited with him several times, I was never sure he actually
recognized me or knew who I was. When I left, it appeared he had improved slightly and at the time, Peter,
Bunny (his sister) and Myrtle were making arrangements to have him brought home.

In October/November of that same year I went to visit him a couple more times. His eyes had failed him some
years before so now he passed the hours watching TV. Myrtle had arranged to have a special hospital-type bed
installed in a side room and I visited with him there on both occasions that I visited. I tried to converse with
him but by this time he was not able to talk much. After the stroke in March, he had not regained his ability to
walk or take care of himself. I remember having the feeling when I left that I would not see him alive again.

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On Dec. 26, the day after his 85 birthday, I received a call from Peter that dad had passed away the day
before. I again left for New Orleans, and together with Myrtle, Peter, Bunny, Evelyn (Myrtle’s youngest
daughter) and family friends, attended his funeral and military internment. At the burial ceremony, an
American flag encased in glass and with a wooded frame was presented to Myrtle in recognition of Dad’s WWII
military service. After we returned to the house, Myrtle and her three children called me aside and, in a
touching and totally unexpected moment, told me that they had discussed it among themselves and wanted
me to have Dad’s flag. Needless to say, I appreciated and accepted their gesture.

How do you total the sum of a person’s life? It is difficult to overlook the failures and insensitivity of youth –
particularly when other lives are cruelly impacted – but in the final accounting one has to consider all chapters
of a person’s life. I think the following eulogy delivered by Dad’s step-daughter, Bunny Schaff shows how much
he had matured and how far he traveled:

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