Carl W. Pellow, Jr., 1948-2022

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Today is the one-year anniversary of my stepfather’s death. At this moment a year ago, I had already driven back north to see Mom after sitting with him one last time at the veterans’ home before giving the nurse permission to proceed with his body. Mom visited him twice in the preceding week and travel had been getting harder for her, so she stayed at her nursing home that day. It was myself and the stillness for a half hour that lasted a lot longer. And, it was him and a long-sought rest for the ages.

Carl was an Army veteran and former postal inspector who suffered from Parkinson’s disease. He lost his wife Mary in 2009 and was fortunate to have a special electrical stimulant placed inside him the same year to help dampen the effects of the Parkinson’s. It was determined that he suffered it due to chemical exposure during his two tours of duty in Vietnam, and apparently it manifested gradually over many years before it was diagnosed. Despite his struggles, he and my mother Pat found kinship online and decided to marry in Las Vegas in September 2011, a little more than a year after my father passed away. The first few years, they did pretty well and Mom took the lead in helping them live as best they could. She was happy. He was at least content; among other things, Parkinson’s stole his ability to express fully with his facial features. That and being soft spoken made it harder as time went on to read how he was doing.

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I had to keep a presence in Mendota starting in early 2017 when Mom fell and stayed in hospitals and nursing home rehab for more than two months. They were planning to downsize and try independent living in the suburbs, but it was not meant to be. I essentially moved in as a de facto caretaker later in the year even though I kept my Champaign apartment, much to the detriment of my finances. As I now know, Carl declined his last few years as the Parkinson’s regained control at the same time that Mom declined her last few ears due to depression and dementia working against her. Next to no one knows what I’ve seen and lived through for half a decade. It was at times frustrating and occasionally the pits for us all, but I was right where I needed to be – here, with them. I got to know Carl to a certain degree as a friend, chauffeur, fiduciary, and confidant. I believe he was a nice man who ultimately got a raw deal and then a touch of redemption thanks to the efforts and compassion of my mother. I will miss him.

Carl is survived by a son, Lance, and a daughter, Monica, and their spouses and families in Michigan and Texas, respectively. His brother Steve lives with his wife in New York state where they held a memorial at Tupper Lake, a location that was seminal to Carl and Mary, in the summer of last year. Our funeral director posted an obituary here and, one day, I’d like to rewrite it with the help of his kin so it is a more complete tribute as there are many aspects of Carl’s life that I still don’t know well or at all. Above and beyond, I’m learning to this day what it means to take care of the elderly when you become the parent apparent, as it were. It’s a hard lesson and I can’t say that it hasn’t tested my heart and soul.

It was a pleasure to know you and an honor to serve you, Carl. Thank you.

~ Jason Pankoke

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Carl W. Pellow, Jr.
March 11, 1948 – May 14, 2022
R.I.P.

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