I’m trying not to be melancholy, but.. that’s hard on the day of a funeral. Huge family, absolutely huge. They don’t need my help grieving. Still I am. I’ll miss Ken Powell. I remember years ago when so many of Ken and Vi’s friends were moving to Florida to spend their retirement years. They were contemplating the same, discussing the virtues of going south when a couple of the grand kids came running into the room. Excited little boy voices calling Grampa this and Grampa that, climbing on laps, grabbing cookies, a hug for Gramma, and zoom, they were off playing again. Ken laughed, looked at all of us and said, “See that Pearl,” (Ken’s pet name for Vi) “why would anyone want to move away a miss all that?” They didn’t move away, and the grand kids, then the great grand kids were a part of their lives…daily. They were  terrific grandparents, and Vi still is. She’ll carry the torch. She’s strong and spunky.

That’s all. I can’t post my own grand kid here, and I understand that. But I can put on these little ones who brighten up my world once a week or so…

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One Response to

  1. Anonymous says:

    Thank you, Betsy, for remembering my dad in this way. It's a great little story and very, very true. In fact, it is also what kept them from going to Florida for extended periods of time even after oldest grandson, Joel, moved there. And, thank you for everything you've done for us before and after the funeral. We are blessed because of family. Family is what defines us whether our biological family, church family, or community family. It is God's plan for us to belong and take refuge in. Yvonne


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