35. Obituary

This is my father (John Snyder, aka Yannis Kokinakos) in a portrait taken to commemorate his graduation as an Officer in the Royal Canadian Air Force in 1942. Below, his plane and crew (he is second from left, the guy in the center was wearing Dad's hat as a lark).

Dad was Captain of a Lancaster bomber in WWII, stationed in England. He flew 31 missions over Germany, including one where he was wounded by exploding antiaircraft rounds that left him with shrapnel embedded in his leg for the rest of his life, and another one where the engines caught fire on take-off and he managed to drop the bombs in the Channel and return, land the plane (on fire) safely without endangering the base and saving his 9-man crew. He was 19 when he went to war, and 89 when he left this life. I took him to a Veterans Day banquet in 2007, he was the only WWII veteran there. Everyone treated him like a living legend, a hero, a precious historical relic. It was great to see him get some recognition, because my Dad flew in the RCAF, and because he became an American citizen in 1954, he had to relinquish any Veterans benefits from Canada. My entire life, people acted like his service was 2nd class because he served for another country's military, as if Canada, which fought with the English Air Force long before American had even joined the war, wasn't equal to the US. For a man who was very proud of his service, that must have been hard, to be left out.

I think of my father on Veterans' Day, and also on his birth/death days. I think he would be proud of the woman I've become. He was a tenacious son of a bitch who, as a lifelong scientist (BS in Organic Chemistry from UBC, Vancouver; Master's in Chemistry from University of Bonn, Germany; and PhD in Chemistry from McGill) taught me respect for science, which led to my interest in physical sciences, including nursing.

1972

He passed away on May 20, 2010.

I miss him often. It took me about a year to stop picking up the phone and dialing his number, only to be very perplexed at the "disconnected" message. This week we face another anniversary of his passing. He wanted to live to be 100, and he lived a healthy lifestyle. He was very much an outdoorsman and a John Muir or John James Audubon type of naturalist. He took us camping and hiking throughout our childhoods. He even climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro at the age of 69. Every day, I notice his influence in my life; he would have been thrilled to see me become a nurse.

2007

2007, with my sister

He taught us a lot of silly and/or bawdy songs from the 40's, including his favorites from The Andrews Sisters, and this little gem, a Gilbert & Sullivan parody about his profession:

When I was a lad, I served my term

As beaker boy in a Chemist's firm

I washed all the bottles and I cleaned all the flasks

And I did a lot of other silly, menial tasks.

I washed all the bottles so carefully

That now I am a member of the CIC

So chemists, all, take a lesson from me

If you want to be proficient in Chemistry,

Just be careful to be guided by this Golden Rule

And never never never never go to school!

When I think of my father's grit and determination, I am reminded of that quote we hear (mis)attributed to Winston Churchill, "If you're going through hell, keep going!"

This quote has been particularly inspirational to me. It reminds me not to give up when things don’t go my way. Never has it had more meaning for me than the last few years. My father, who was a bomber pilot during World War Two, passed away in 2010. I miss him so much. He would have been proud of my decision to become a nurse. He would have relished discussing my classes and celebrated my grades. I wish he could have seen me graduate. He was always very supportive and encouraged me to be strong despite whatever obstacles I was facing.

I needed that strength when he passed, but I drew upon it even more a year later when I lost my child. To lose one’s only parent and one’s only child within a year is a grief I would categorize as going through hell. All I could do was try to keep breathing, try to keep moving forward through the pain, and these words helped me believe that someday there would be a time when I didn’t think about their loss every single day.

And then I got laid off from my job. As if losing my family wasn’t bad enough, now I’d lost my means of support. I turned to these words, and I realized there was nothing to do but keep going.

I made the decision to pursue an education and I continue to be inspired by these words when I feel overwhelmed by juggling college responsibilities as a 40-plus woman and grappling with my grief. I feel rewarded, and I am so glad I have never given up.

I was surprised to discover that true author of this quote is unknown. It is misattributed to Winston Churchill, who was Prime Minister of England during WWII. According to Finest Hour, the journal of Churchill scholars, this quote is unverifiable as being his, despite its popularity on the internet.

However, knowing this does not make the words less vital to me, as it is in the dark times that we most need to keep going, and anything that helps me do that is something I will keep.

There are so many great Dad stories. Today, I am sad that there won't be any new ones.