My father was born during the war years to both Lithuanian and Italian parents. His father was John Wenskunas Sr. and his mother was Martha Nicoli. He grew up in Oglesby and La Salle, IL, all an hour outside of the Chicago area. He loved eating (especially sweets), race tracks, gambling, and playing cards. The Bears and the Cubs were his favorite teams and he enjoyed a good Southern Comfort Manhattan dry (which he quit many years back), smoking (which he also quit years back) and always added humor and laughter mixed with sarcasm when he spoke. My father was a mixture of many things, but mostly he was my Daddy!
My Dad never finished high school, but instead joined the Air Force, working as a meat cutter in the kitchen and after leaving the service, he continued working at A & P as a butcher for years. I will never forget the time he took me with him as a child in the freezer (I remember it being so cold in there) and allowing me to go through the store and try all the samples and to get a lot of those green stamps to come home and earn items. And, the memory that I feel is most lasting with me as we struggled growing up were the boxes of dented cans he would bring home for us. Back then they would sell the unlabeled dented cans at a discounted price. We would open those cans never knowing what was in them. Some would be cherry pie filling which is still my favorite, some would be green beans and others would be of dog food, which would always be pushed my way, but I would never eat. He would also allow me to pick four TV dinners and since it would take forty five minutes to cook in the oven, he would let me slip out the frozen brownie or cherry pie and eat it first like a popsicle. His favorite and mine has always been the turkey although he preferred pecan pie.
He went on to open The Cigar Store, selling cigars, pipes, tobacco, food, soups, and candies. That was in the front of the store. In the backroom were poker games, casino machines, and pool tables were also in the front … and yes, he was what some would call a bookie who sold tickets. So a lot of gambling happened at that location. My most vivid memory is of opening the ice cream freezer and in the tub of vanilla ice cream was a brown paper bag filled with wads of cash rubber-banded together. He always had money in his pocket; maybe because he knew what it is was like to not have any, and maybe it was because he always felt his father was deprived of money. He even buried his father with five one-hundred dollar bills in his pocket, so he would know he had it.
Whatever work ethic I have today, I owe to him. He also taught me to fight for what I needed or wanted, and to never give up, never give in, and never ever quit. I know my dad was proud of me, and I was able to tell him just this month, how very proud I was to be his little girl.
He helped me get my very first loan to purchase my first car at the age of 16. He also helped me get a loan to purchase my first home (a trailer) and he taught me that if I ever borrowed a penny, to pay it back, and if I took a penny, pay it forward or back, too! He is also the one behind me giving my last pennies, if it would make someone else’s life better at risking my own. He loved money, but hated it at the same time, and never handled or learned to hold onto it.
He always enjoyed his Mercedes convertibles and years back he bought a used one and shared how many memories it brought back. Years back, prior to him becoming sick, he enjoyed doing errands for all the ladies at the Senior Center, and even became friends with some of their husbands and the men got a card game going. Now the games were for nickels and quarters, instead of the big bucks way back when.
My Dad sported a beard most of his life, and only a couple times did he shave. Recently, he let it grow out again, so I see it as fitting that he went to heaven with it. I am sure he will connect with my mother and therefore she will be welcoming him with her big dimpled smile.
My father had his fair share of health issues, and yet, he fought the good fight til the end! He went peacefully on his own and on his own terms. I know he did not suffer through his transition. I know he is in heaven now and is one of my angels; my Father Angel.
Our relationship was stronger up until the end. I felt the love even when it wasn’t always easy, or even when mistakes were made or when things were said that were out of anger, confusion or sadness. I am eternally grateful and so very fortunate that both of us decided to continue our communication openly and honestly. It was just about 3 years ago that he came to my home for a weekend visit, and we cleared all the air, and he shared the present and future wishes and respect. I cannot thank God enough for allowing us that moment knowing that it would be the last time we would spend together here on earth and to share the bond, love, and even forgiveness for peace. We came to a place of mutual respect and understanding . . . and inner tranquility. We spoke of many things and were able to sort out of a lot of junk in the way that only fathers and daughters can do. Admissions, transgressions, forgiving one another and knowing that no matter what would happen he had my back and I would have his; we both kept that until the very end; speaking just days before his death and ending the call with I love you always and forever…
My dad told me I reminded him of himself! He told me to never let anyone hurt me again. He told me take care of myself, no one else will. I told him I wouldn’t and I will.
We talked in great details about his death and his personal wishes. He brought me a lot of family photos and told me no matter what keep them close. He respected feelings, thoughts, and my decisions on funerals and burials, and we even laughed about how he always wanted to be cremated and have his ashes spread over the race track, but that now, I could spread them over the dog park or the White House. He being a strong Republican honored and respected the office of the presidency.
I know in my heart and soul that he is now with his parents, grandparents, and with my mom; they are all watching over me and closer to me more than ever before. I will see them all again when I am 105. Lol. It is my hope that my genes will be healthier and make it that long. And I love him for sharing his wisdom and life’s many truths, realizing he is fathering me from the other side. Thanks dad for bringing me into this world. I love you dearly and though you may not know it, you are with me more now than ever before. Because of our talks, I am in a state of acceptance and understanding, peace and love. You’re always in my heart.
John Wenskunas, 78, of Arizona – formerly of Illinois, passed away May 26, 2020 at Banner Boswell Hospital. He is survived by his sister, two brothers, son, two daughters, grandchildren and great grandchildren. He was preceded in death by his mother, father, a brother, one son, and his wife.
If you would like to join me at his Celebration of Life, please let me know and I can provide you the details. We will all have pecan pie, coffee, and a round of cards together. I told him I would honor him with a mass at my Church, Rosary Reading, go to the track and place a bet in his memory, and start a Memorial Fund to help children with staying in school and out of trouble. He laughed and said, save your money. I will continue his legacy the same way as I do for my mother currently.
My dad knew what he meant to me, and I knew what I meant to him, and that is what now matters the most. All I have now is memories, but I will treasure those the rest of my life.
Rest in Peace, Daddy; never forgotten, but at peace.
xoxoxoxo
Patricia “Susie”
This is what he left behind…
“I’d like the memory of me to be a happy one. I’d like to leave an echo whispering softly down the ways of happy times and laughing times and bright and sunny days. I’d like the tears of those who grieve to dry before the sun of happy memories that I leave when life is done.”
Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.
From a headstone in Ireland.
