In Memory of My Grandpa

Donald Eugene Stickley
October 19, 1924 - January 4, 2009


I am grateful to have the opportunity to write a few words in remembrance and celebration of my grandpa’s amazing life, both to honor the role he played in my and everyone in my family’s lives and probably as a little bit of catharsis.

I could recount lots of things about my grandpa that I’ve been told by others as part of our family history – like how he was born in 1924 to Freeman and Opal Stickley; or how he grew up as part of a hard working farm family in Darke County, Ohio and had 5 siblings – 3 sisters (Ruth, Kathryn and Olive) and 2 brothers (Duane and Dean); or how he married my grandma, Nova Eileen Reck, 3 days after returning home from serving in World War II.

Don Stickley, U.S. Army

The blushing bride and groom

But the things that I remember the most are what I know firsthand from all the time we spent together over the years…How we used to joke about he and I (and later my brother Casey) being the only Lefties in the family…and how I knew that since I had been given my middle name after him that I had to live up to the example he set as the patriarch of our family. In my pre-teen and teen years, it seems like I spent every afternoon with my grandpa, especially during the summer. My dad was still working second shift at the post-office so after lunch, when dad left for work, grandpa and I had plenty of time to get into trouble. Usually our afternoons involved any number of tasks to keep the family farm running smoothly…grandpa would run the combine while I sped back and forth between the field and the elevator in the grain truck…or when I got home from school we’d hit the field for some quality time picking up stones…and who could forget getting up early on a Saturday morning and walking up and down row after row of soybeans pulling weeds. We cleared fence rows together and baled straw in the fall and made trips to the Case-IH dealer to pick up parts to fix one thing or another, which grandpa often used as an excuse to stop at the Dairy Queen. I’ll always remember how when I was 16-18 years old, I still had to push myself to keep up with my grandpa who was in his 60’s.

But it wasn’t always hard work…every August, after dad left for work, Grandpa and I would sneak off to the Darke County fair. We’d spend the afternoon watching the tractor pull or seeing who could get the most right in the horse races. We also had a knack for making my dad just watch us and shake his head…like when grandpa and I tore off through the wheat stubble in his pick-up attempting to chase down a fox that had wandered into the field…or when we decided to kill time while we waited for the combine at the end of the field by setting off some old firecrackers we found in the glovebox of his truck. Those years of working and playing with my grandpa taught me how to work hard and how to have fun at the same time.

But my grandpa’s life wasn’t confined to the fields of Ohio. I remember sitting with him about 10 years ago as he told me about his time in the Army during World War II. In 1945 he was station on Panay Island in the Phillipines. Just a few days before his infantry division was sent to attack Mindanao which was a Japanese stronghold, a reaction to a mosquito bite caused his eye to swell up and put him in the hospital. I remember how hear teared up as he recounted the many men in his company that he knew that were injured and killed during this attack.

It was while he was on Panay that the United States dropped the atomic bombs on Japan. You could hear in his voice what an impression it made on him when, the day after the Japanese surrendered, he was ordered to march out and line the sides of the road, fully armed, as 350 Japanese soldiers marched down out of the mountains of Panay to surrender.

In recent years, my move to Hawaii meant I didn’t see grandpa as much but as his health began to deteriorate, my grandma was a tireless angel, constantly by his side, attending to his every need as he dealt with the challenges of aging.

Grandpa and Grandma Nova meeting my little Nova back in May

His Final Week…

My grandpa made the trip to Hawaii the day before Christmas with my grandma, dad and mom. I was thrilled that he and grandma were able to come make the trip to meet Juneau and watch my girls enjoy their first family Christmas. During his final week, we all enjoyed lots of family fun at our rented beach house on the north shore of Oahu. Grandpa sat at the big bay window and watched us play football in the yard, enjoyed some time at the beach watching us kayak, spread flowers at the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial at Pearl Harbor, and smiled as all the great-grandkids were in constant motion around him.

Grandpa and my little Nova - Dec. 2008

Spreading flowers at the U.S.S. Arizona Memorial


As our week together neared an end, Grandpa’s energy took a serious downturn. His last night, he struggled to get out of his chair and we had to nearly pick him up to get him into bed. But, even still, as I helped him get situated into bed that night, I rubbed him behind his neck and said “Are you comfortable Grandpa?” and he looked me in the eyes, smiled and said a soft “yes”. Even up to that point I know he still knew it was me.

Sunday morning it was clear that Grandpa was struggling. At that point it became time for us as a family to decide that he wouldn’t be able to go home as scheduled the next day. We made the decision to bring him home to my house and care for him there until the end. I remember how weak he appeared as my brother Casey practically lifted him into the car. Back at my house, when I had to completely lift him out of the car and into a bed with the help of my brother-in-law Ed, I knew he didn’t have much left. Less than 2 hours later, Coral called to us to come to his bed as it was clear he was fading fast.

It is still a little hard for me every time I walk into the room where he died as I wonder whether at the end, if given the choice, he would have rather been at home where he lived his whole adult life instead of thousands of miles away…but I like to think he knew exactly what was going on and that after having spent a wonderful week as a family, and having all of us there together, he knew it was time to let go of his present struggles.

And so, on a warm clear Hawaiian day, my grandpa took his final breaths in my home as I sat and held his left hand. He was surrounded by those he loved and who loved him most including his wife, son and daughter-in-law and his 3 grandchildren (only his daughter was unable to be present, unfortunately) and he passed from this life very peacefully. I’ll never forget the words of my grandma, to whom he was married for 62 years, as she stroked his head during his last moments: “We had a good run daddy…we’ll meet again in the air”.

Our final family photo taken the morning of January 4, 2009