The Passing of Herbert McClees

My father, Herbert McClees, passed away peacefully Feb. 24, 2025 after a decades-long struggle with Parkinson's Disease and more recently, Parkinson's-associated dementia. He was 83 years old. I was there with him during this time. He was brought to the Emergency Room at Northwest Hospital on Sunday morning with symptoms from an infection. Labs showed that his organs were failing, in particular his lungs. He was unresponsive at this time, though he did open his eyes for a couple minutes when I arrived. I’m happy to believe that he knew I’d be there with him for everything that would come next.

His grandchildren: Edison, Charlotte, and Reed, were able to come visit, see him, and say their goodbyes. The nurses eventually removed the oxygen mask that had been keeping him alive. I was able to be in the room with him as his labored breathing came to a stop early in the morning. He will be interred next to his wife, my Step Mom, Arvelle, at the columbarium at his long-time church, St. John’s Episcopal, in Kirkland.

Herb was known for his wit and spirit. He will be remembered for all of the things he taught his daughter and grandchildren: how to whistle, how to play chess, how to select the best automobile, how to make cinnamon toast, how to do math in one’s head, how to take a long stride, how to appropriately appreciate artwork in a museum, etc. He enjoyed riddles and thought challenges. He loved listening to Car Talk on NPR. He showed interest in people and was constantly striking up conversations with every person he met. Until Parkinson’s and dementia really got a grip on him, he was an avid walker and dancer. He was most happy planning and giving a poetry reading or talking about his poetry. He dived into creative pursuits such as composing music and hymns, researching family history, and writing screenplays. He loved fiddling with computers and learning about the latest technology. He was often reflective on how to live best in the world, especially in relation to others. This moved him to volunteer for things like the City of Mill Creek’s “Music in the Parks” program and serve on the vestry of Saint John’s church. His faith and church were important to him.

I would appreciate hearing any stories or memories of Herb that bring you joy.

The last time I visited my dad, he recited from memory the poem, “Breathes There the Man,” by Sir Walter Scott. Herb was always a proud Scotsman.

To remember Herbert, find a favorite poem and speak it out into the world. He believed in the power of poetry and language for connection.

I am doing okay and not okay. Lots of compartmentalization happening. I'm an only child and feel like it is just a lot to be shouldering the grief of this and the checklist of affairs to get done and in order. Thank you to my family, my mother, and James for being such steadfast supporters through this.