James Lee Stanley

As a musician, I have been attempting to give you the benefit of every situation and experience that I have had.

Last Wednesday, I received a call from my sisters that my father had gone into the hospital and that the doctors were having difficulty raising the levels of his vital signs.   He had a quintuple by-pass operations ten years ago and was now 87.   They felt it best to just let nature take its course.

I spoke to my father and told him that I was performing the next night to a sold out crowd and that it was not only a concert but a celebration of the 79^th birthday of a local patron of the arts and further, that I had been given the place of honor at the top of the bill.

I told him that, being his son, I couldn’t cancel at the last minute as I had given my word that I would be there.   I told him I would be there Friday and that he should not do anything spontaneous until I got there.    He assured me that he’d wait for me.  “I’ll be here.” he said.

My sisters and I then discussed the best course of action and we decided to take him home.    The hospital put us in contact with a Hospice  House to help us.

Hospice is a truly remarkable service.    Gentle people and volunteers all, they come to your home (if that’s what you want) and having had much experience with deaths approach, they guide you through all the stages.

They gave us a little booklet that described everything that was going to happen and the order that it was going to happen in.   That way there are no surprises and no one caught unaware.

I arrived in Houston from  Los Angeles on Friday and my father was sleeping.   My sisters said he had been sleeping all day, but as I leaned over and kissed his head and whispered, “Dad, it’s James, I’m here,”  he woke up.

He smiled the most beatific smile and said, “I love you.”  Then he said, “My boy’s here, my boy’s here.”   I held his hand and until he went back to sleep.

About an hour later he awoke again, and smiling like the Buddha, once again said, “My boy is here.”   and, “I love you.” again and then went back to sleep.   Those were his last words he ever spoke.

Saturday we were all there all day; all of his children, their spouses, their children and their children’s children.    The house was full of people, life and music.

After dinner Saturday evening, I borrowed my brother in law’s guitar and we began to sing the songs that everyone loved.   We sang until two o’clock in the morning and then I went to bed.   At 5am, my sister Pamala came in and woke me to tell me he was passing.

My father passed on Sunday, November 22 at 5:15 surrounded by all his loved ones.  He went gently, in his sleep, after hearing his children sing to him for hours.   We sang my dad right off the planet.