Family Hall of Fame Writing Contest
 2nd Place Winner!

 My Family’s Story
By Mr. Vince Raffield

I often wondered given the opportunity, if I could put into words just how I feel about my dad.  There is no doubt that as with any child, my dad is the greatest, and if anyone ever deserved to be put in the Father’s Hall of Fame, he does.

Not for the reasons you might think.  He meets all the requirements I am certain, being the devoted husband, the family provider, and loving father.  He’s far more than that, and my greatest honor is being his son.

I came from a large family, and I would have to say that our family was one of the exceptions to the rule, by today’s’ standards anyway.

We were among the fortunate few that had a loving Christian home, with both parents who were always there for us.  It could not have been easy on them, especially with so many mouths to feed, and the little they had, but they gave us the greatest gift of all, and that was their love.

There were eight of us children, and Mom and Dad raised us well if I do say so myself.  We were taught values, morals, and to take pride in all that we did.  To date there are no alcoholics, drug addicts or murderers among us, and with today’s statistics and all the dysfunctional families, that is a rarity.

 My dad came from a line of mariners, and he like most of his family made a living for his family in, on or around the water for the most part.  He has a genuine love for the water, he fished, scrimped, roistered, worked in marine construction, boat building, and was the captain on many tugboats, supply boats, and workboats for offshore oil rigs.  He did whatever it took to put a roof over our heads and food in our mouths.

I am certain that could not be easy for him, especially with his lack of education, and all the stress and responsibility heaped upon his shoulders.  The hours were often too long and hard, and often took him away from us for weeks at a time.  It was no easier for Mom, who had her hands full in his absence.

Somehow they managed, and we never went without the necessities, or the nurturing of our parent’s love.  Like most sons, I grew up wanting to be just like my dad, and was fortunate enough to work with him side by side.  Dad never let me by with anything, and if the truth was known he was harder on me than he was on any man in the crew, because I was his son.  Marine construction was hard work, but as I look back on it now, I wouldn’t trade those times for anything in this world.

To look at dad, you would think here is a big, strong, healthy man full of life.  In my eyes of course he was a big man, in more ways than one, and the only thing that could compare to his size was his heart.  Dad’s demeanor was softly spoken, kind and gentle.  He had the patience of Job, the wisdom of King Solomon, and the strength of Daniel, and yet he was as meek as a lamb.

Dad called us in for a family meeting one day, and we knew that something was terribly wrong.  Over the years he had begun to have a lot of medical problems, and it was as if his body was in revolt for all the years of hard work he had done.  In all outward appearances Dad was still in his prime, very much a man, vibrant and strong, an unless you were a family member you would not have known there had been medical problems.

Dad found out that he had Asbestosis, and he was dying.  The doctor had even gone as far as to tell him that as sick as he was he could not give him any particular time frame.  It devastated us, turned our worlds upside down.  Looking back on it, I remember that he was more concerned about how we were all taking it, than he was about his own health.  He told us how much he loved us, how proud he was of us, and what we meant to him.  He went about setting things in order, and telling us that he expected us to be strong, take care of each other, and of mother, the way that he had always taught us to do.  He would have no part of tears or sadness because his faith was strong and he trusted God to take care of us all, he wanted “us to be together, in heaven.”

The doctor had instructed Dad to contact an attorney, and he did so, but with much hesitance.  The doctor explained that there had been several Asbestos companies that had to make restitution for the damage and disease caused to people who had been exposed to Asbestos.  Dad never wanted a dime for himself, but in his usual unselfish way, thought that perhaps he could at least secure some kind of financial future for his wife, and soul mate of 43 years.

With the assistance of the Boiler Makers Association, he contacted an attorney in south Florida.  They were only too eager to take the case, and at 40 percent of what they would collect, why not?

After mountains of paperwork, and countless conversations, Dad seemed more at ease about things.  He had been told that he would receive quite a bit of money, and although he figured he would never live long enough to see any of it, that was fine with him, what mattered was that Mom be taken care of.

As time went by we watched in horror as Asbestosis drained the life from him.  He began to have more medical problems, hospital stays and medications.  It became increasingly difficult for him to even take care of himself.  It was so hard on him just to make it through each day.  Dad was never one to complain, and it seemed n matter how sick he was, he always managed to keep his spirits up, and mine.

Still in all, there was no doubt he was slipping away, and there was nothing that we could do except make him more comfortable and spend as much time with him as we could.

It was a difficult time for all concerned, yet somehow we all pulled together and shared some wonderful times talking and laughing about his childhood stories, and ours.  Each holiday that passed was made extra special with his prayer of thanks for another holiday together with his family.

The hospital stays became even more frequent; each time seemed to be longer than the last, with still another medical complication caused by Asbestosis. It became impossible for Mom and Dad to afford his medicines, and his medications were increased each time he got ill.

They began to contact the attorneys to inform them of his declining health and the financial burdens it had caused, it had begun to be a real hardship to them.

Each time they spoke to someone different, each time the general reply would pretty much be “the check is in the mail.”  Mom and Dad had received a few small settlements, of $500.00 to $1000.00, but usually a lot less than they needed for his medication along.

Dad began to worry, he did not like a liar, and he did not lie.  He felt he was being lied to, and had caught the attorneys in out and out lies on more than one occasion, so he began to mistrust them.  In an effort to ease his worry, letters were written on his behalf, calls were made to the attorneys, and even some point blank questions had been asked, all of which got the same reply, or no reply at all.

It was hard enough to see Dad suffer, without seeing him be so worried, and made to feel like he had to do battle with the attorneys that were supposed to be the ones looking out for his best interest.  After all, he trusted them with something that he felt was more precious than his own life, the financial future of his wife.  He began to feel like he had failed her, in his last attempt to do something out of love for her, ha made a terrible mistake.  It seemed no matter how we tried to console him, even telling him that the days of Shyster Lawyers that cheat widows and orphans out of their money was long since past, his fear was not relieved.

Dad died a few years ago, we watched him suffer and die day by day for nine years.  When he knew it was time, he called each of us to his bedside, and one by one, told us again how much he loved us, how special each of us were and what we had meant to his life.  He left instructions for us to carry on, take care of each other and especially of Mom.  He called each of his grandchildren to his bedside in much the same manner, and his last words were spent Praising God.

It was not easy to give him up, but he had suffered so much and had been in such much pain, that we knew we had to let him go.  Just as he had always been there for us, we were all there when he drew his last breath.

When we had his funeral, it was more of a celebration of his last voyage, only this time he would not be coming home to us.  It was just as if he would have wanted it to be.  Dad had faced the storms of life, and death much as he had all other storms, head on and holding steady.  To say that he was an inspiration would be an understatement.

When I lost my dad, I lost my best friend.  I miss him terribly.  To watch him go through all the pain and suffering that he had to endure was almost unbearable, but knowing the fears and stress that he was under, and not being able to do anything about it was even worse.  Unfortunately Dad’s worse fears were a reality.  When he died, the lawyers that were supposed to be looking out for his best interest, informed Mom that she needed a Will, and a Will of Probate, leaving all monies from pending cases to her.  Regretfully, they did not inform either of my parents of this until my dad’s death.  Mom and Dad received less than $25,000.00 total, in settlements.  Not much for all the pain and suffering, and not much for a human life.

Worse still, we have since found out that Mom has second hand Asbestos exposure, and since I worked with dad in marine construction, I have Asbestosis.

Until now, I had no idea what dad truly had to endure.  To be faced with the fact that you are dying, being robbed of your breath, and your very life by Asbestos exposure.  There are no cures, or treatments.  Until now, I never knew it would be this hard.

I will never understand how dad did it so well, how he was so strong and brave through it all.  I only hope that I can deal with it half as well as he did.

Read the 3rd Place Writing Contest Winner's Essay - The Eage Cafe by Neal Crothers

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