Edward T. Snuksta

April 21, 1923 ~ January 4, 2000

Every once in a while a person comes into your life and touches
your heart in a way that it is often hard to explain. "Snooks" was
such a person.

I have known "Snooks" ever since I was a little girl. I remember
delivering newspapers to his room at the hotel in my early teens.
He worked on road construction. It wasn't until later years that
I learned he worked on building I-80. He always left his paper
money on his dresser for me along with a tip to buy a
candy bar.

In my early 20's I got to know him better and would visit him
 at the hotel. He lived in one room at a hotel for near
40 years. He was a quiet man. All one knew was his wife died at
a young age from TB while he was being treated for TB himself
and that they had a small son. This was back in the 1950's.
He never talked much about it until the past two years.
Evidently his sister gained custody of his son and also his home.
He didn't talk much about what happened, but he  and his sister
became estranged not long after this happened. To his final days
he didn't go into details, but his never did reconcile with his sister.
He said his son would stop in every once in while to see him.
I never met his son. All I know is he passed away 1991.

"Snooks" was a quiet man. Some will remember a period that he
drank too much, but "he never hurt a soul". As he got older I
would try to help him here and there. I got tired of watching how
easy it was for people to take advantage of him.

In 1992 he became ill and had to see a Doctor on a daily basis.
I caught  wind that a person in this town was charging him $10 each
day to take him there. To pick him up - see  the Doctor- and return
home only took one hour.  It would be one thing if this man could
afford to pay that money, but my family and I knew different.
I went down and told him I would take him. LOL ~ I remember
him asking me to go into the room with him "I don't understand
anything that Doctor says to me". Basically, it came down that
if he didn't quit drinking and take better care of himself he would
not have much time left. I told him I was willing to help him as
much as I could, but if he wanted to live more than two years
he should quit with the drinking. He stopped that July day in 1992.

It still took him some time to learn to trust me and to realize that
a true friend is going to help you without expecting anything in
return. Well almost nothing. All I expected was for him to  try
to take better care of himself and be happy. A smile was payment
enough.

What started out as taking him to the Doctor's every three months,
filling out financial papers at the end of the year to help get him a
better income, and just generally checking on him grew to the
point that he became like family to me and the rest of my family.

He was included in family dinners and holidays. We even started to
have a family birthday dinner for him. LOL ~ he was like a child
when it came to dropping hints that his birthday was coming up
and fishing around to see if there was going to be a birthday
dinner or not.
 

We have celebrated his birthdays each year for the last 6 years.
It has always humbled me to watch the enjoyment he got from a
small birthday cake and a couple presents shared with "family".

Somewhere along the way I knew things changed with the way he
viewed my family and I. I think the day he referred to my daughters
as "my girls" was the day I realized that "Snooks" finally felt like
he belonged. I remember chuckling and giving him a hug and
telling him it was ok to call them "my girls". My husband's
father and mine both died when we were small children, so my
daughters did not know what it was like to have a grandfather.
"Snooks" became  a grandfather like figure to them and my
nephew. They have known him for as long as their memories go.
Jess was about 2 when she first met "Snooks" and Jamie wasn't
born. LOL- I remember letting "Snooks" baby-sit Jess for 45
minutes once. People in town thought I was crazy to do this, but I
don't think anyone could have cared for her better. She fussed and
he pushed her through the hallways in her stroller till I return.

Theses three teenagers were protective of "Snooks" to the end.
They would visit him, do anything they could to make him happy.
Help when help was needed. And at his request, Jessica played
Taps for him during the military part of his funeral. She held
her tears in till she was done playing.

12-24-1999
 

I remember the day we went to a lawyer and "Snooks" had me
appointed as his power of attorney. The lawyer told him that I now
had the same rights as if I was his natural born daughter. I
remember giving him a hug in the parking lot and told him that
was about as close as we could get to adopting each other.  This
was about 11 days before his birthday in 1997. I pondered it a while.
I decided to make a "surrogate family award" and had my husband
as well as my daughter sign it with me. It basically stated that he
was considered a part of our family and as such he was entitled
to the love and respect that was shown to all our family members.
I remember giving it to him on his birthday along with a few other
presents. I remember explaining the thought behind it. I also told
him that where we may not be family by blood the love we have for
each other made us family. I remember his smile and the way he
would keep glancing at it. He kept it on display at his home and
when anyone asked about family he would refer to us as his family.
Such a small and inexpensive gift, but it seemed to mean the
world to him.

1997

In Feb 1998, "Snooks" became seriously ill.  That illness resulted in
him having to be moved from his hotel room of almost 40 years
to a first floor apartment. Many thought I should have put him in
a nursing home years ago, but I made a promise to him that I
would do all I could to prevent that from happening.  I thank God
that it did not come to that.

It only took me about two hours to find an apartment that met our
needs. LOL- the carpet was as ugly as sin. Worn and very old.
I moaned about it till one of my friends pointed out that "Snooks"
loved it and in comparison to his old hotel room,   he thought
he was in a mansion. It was a 2 bedroom apartment, so you can
guess how big that seemed after so many  years living in one room.

I remember having to get him furniture. Some was donated by my
family and friends. Some I bought new and some I bought used.
The one thing I did insist on is buying him a new overstuff lazyboy
and a 20 inch remote control color tv. LOL- they became his two
most favorite possessions. Within two months, he told me how
much he loved his apartment and how he wished he would have
agreed to moved back in 1992 when I wanted to move him. It  brought
me joy just watching him in his new domain. He had to learn how
to work the TV. Also , I bought him a microwave and a
coffeemaker and taught him to use. Had a phone installed and
after trying 3 different ones we found one he could understand.
He was so proud of his new home and all that he learned.
So many things that we just take for granted, but all was new to
him and his learning abilities were limited. He could master it as
long as you had patience and kept instructions simple.

At the time of the move on 3/5/98, we were told by the Doctor with
all the new illnesses she found that he may live for 2 months
or two years.  My heart was heavy. "Snooks" finally had things
nice for him. I prayed to God that he would survive at  least one
year to fully enjoy his new home. I am thankful that God gave him
almost 2 years. He had his good days and his bad days
health-wise, but overall he seemed happy.

I think one of the best memories was his first Christmas there.
I put up a 6 ft tree for him. It had an angel on top. He told me then
that was the first he had a full size tree since his wife died.
He was like a child. I had bought gifts for him and also small
ones for him to  hand out to my family. I used to walk in and
catch him rooting under the tree. I put his tree up again this
year, even though he was weak and ill. He left the lights
burning all the time and I think seeing the angel on top
brought him comfort.

His health started to decline around Nov. 4, 1999. On Dec 4th
I had him admitted to the Hospice program.  He rapidly lost
ground and became very weak.  By Christmas I knew in my
heart it wouldn't be much longer.  "Snooks" always seemed
fearful of dying, but he seemed at peace in the last two weeks.
The day before he died, we talked about it not being much
longer. He told me he was too tired to do it anymore. I spoke
of us having a long haul together. He told me it was fun.
At that point for the first time he told me he loved me and thanked
me for being there. Never a day went by that he didn't say
thanks but that was the first "I love you" he spoke.

I worried so much and pray to God that he would not die alone.
I prayed when the time came that he would just go to sleep and
not wake in the morning.  God does answer prayers. I stayed with
him till shortly after 1 am on the morning of his death. I left him in
the care of a hospice nurse to go home for some sleep. What
woke me at 6 am, I don't know, but I was awake with the feeling
I needed to go to  him. The nurse informed me he became
unresponsive at 2 am.  I told him I was there even though
he was in a deep sleep. As the nurses changed shift,
I sat and held his hand singing to myself
"didn't we almost have it all, my friend, when love was all
we had worth giving  - the ride with you was worth the fall,
my friend - didn't we almost have it all" I then toold him it was
almost over and that  he he did it his way and I was so proud
of him. On that note,  he slipped into eternal rest.

The funeral was hard on me. I lied awake the night before
crying, but in retrospect, that night was filled with fond
memories that made me smile. Over the years I tried to
explain the relationship we had. To me he was family, but I
couldn't defined what slot in our family.  At 76 to my 39,
some thought a father figure, but in honesty, and I don't
wish to be disrespectful - I often referred to him as my over
grown son. His trust in me was as complete as a small child's
in their parent.  He was an innocent in many ways and I
always felt the need to protect him.  He was a gentle soul.
His manners were always respectful of others. He modesty
ran deep. Anyone who took the time to break through his
modesty and get to know him had to love him.

I think now of lessons learned from each other. Through
"Snooks" I learned humilty. Be humble in my everyday life
and do not take things for granted.  Realize nothing can replace
the love of family and good friends.  Through "Snooks", our
children learned compassion and sensitivity to others and
what the true meaning of "surrogate family" means.

Through me, I feel "Snooks" learned that when someone loves
you they love you as you are. The good with the bad. Love
is unconditional and should know no boundries.  Someone
that loves you will be there  and will do all to make you happy,
expecting nothing in return, but knowing you are happy.

April 21, 1998

On the evening of  "Snooks" death I received the following
poem in an email sent by one of my  cyberpals. She related she
wrote it the year before when "Snooks" was ill. I have read this
many times and shared it  with my family. It has brought  comfort
to me over the last few weeks.
 

Remembering Snooks

I know your heart is sad today,
Your friend walked on,  he couldn't stay.

And its so hard to see him leave,
The sadness that you feel and grieve,
Is lightened by the memory of
This man's total trust and love.

His trust in you was so complete
That he could rest in peace
And peacefully sleep.

His final days were lived with pride
With his surrogate family at his side.
In a place of his own and a favorite chair
I like to think of him sitting there.

Through you I came to know this man
And felt his joy and knew his pain.
But most of all your love was there
And made his life easier to bear.

So shed your tears for just a while
and then remember, with a smile
A friend who loved you is never gone
He's just ahead of you, he just walked on

By  Mary E. Johnson

My friend has walked  on and I do miss him, but I find peace
in the memories I have of him. I thank God for the time
we had together and I thank him that the end was so peaceful.
 I find comfort in the thought that "Snooks"
is safe in God's keeping.

I think of a line from a show I once watched:

"Remember me with laughter ~ if you can only remember me
with tears ~ don't remember me at all "

I find that I don't cry when I think of Snooks.
All my memories brings a smile and  laughter.