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Remembering my father, the late Ron Schott Sr.


My eyes are filled with tears and I feel a little numb in writing this editorial...

This past Sunday morning, my father, Ron Schott Sr., 78, went to Heaven to be with the Lord as my wife and I were at his bed side in our home.

Just a few hours earlier, my little girl sang hymns to him laying next to him in his bed for about 40 minutes. Just as she was ready to sing “Victory In Jesus,” she said she had to stop because she knew she was going to start crying. It was just a sweet moment. We all spent a lot of time just holding each other and crying. We knew he was going to a better place, but it is still difficult to see your loved one as he is taking his final breaths.

In some of his final moments, my wife and I saw my dad reaching to the sky in a daze. He then shielded his eyes as if something was bright to look at.

My wife and I have never experienced anything like this before. As believers in Christ, it didn’t take long for us to realize what we were witnessing. After shielding his eyes, he took a deep breath, he rested his hands back on his chest and that may have been the final time his eyes were open before he eventually passed.

Wow...I am so grateful the Lord allowed us to witness what we saw. Not that we didn’t already believe we were going somewhere when we die. But to see this happen right in front of my eyes, I know I am forever changed. I didn’t need the evidence, but God showed me the proof regardless.  My dad’s passing brought to an end a three and a half year journey for my wife and I as his caretakers. There were ups and downs with his health and taking care of him led to a lot of sacrifices being made by our family. But I know I can speak for all of us when I say I would not change a thing. For around 15 years in a row, I would only see my dad, who was living in Maryland, one time a year when on vacation. So to get to see him for the last three and a half years every day, it was definitely a blessing to me personally as his only child and was also a blessing for all of the family. The reason my dad got sick in the first place points to the type of man he was. For months, my dad sat next to my ailing step-mom’s bed to be with her at the nursing home until she passed in 2017. Doctors say a pulmonary embolism he had soon after her death was likely the result of those countless hours he sat with her. It truly was the ultimate love story.

My dad was a man who never met a stranger. He was very outgoing and he always put a smile on your face after talking with him. He always cared for others and put others first. He was also good-natured and looked to get a smile and reaction with his sense of humor. I gained so many of my traits from my father.

I’m already missing my dad and his absence is very noticeable right now. He was suppose to turn 79 this week on Thanksgiving day. And I will say putting together this newspaper while filled with so many tender emotions in a small amount of time has been a challenge. I’ve had no choice but to hold some stories until the Dec. 1 issue. It’s a lot to take in all at once. I miss you dad!