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Released… you were 97. You did well.

Silent observer. We are a lot alike. We both enjoyed solitude and value in our hidden thoughts.
There was no need to leap into the center of family politics, not even spankings. I took no offense, to you absconding to your room and closing the door. There is not stopping the irrational force of a T-Rex from striking and striking again until her anger was appeased, but, I am thankful to your comforting presence after the violence was endured.

Our family, like many Black families was a matriarch.

As a man, you brought peace to the bevy of angry velociraptors. You were not useless, just silent. You were unity.
A man calms an angry Powell woman. So, much so that she runs to that solace without foresight. Grandpapa was a rolling stone, but you were a real grandfather. You provided without seeking credit. Knowing that fame drains in infamy in such an environment, you knew to do not-doing and be honored. Such a rare virtue.

Subsequent generation are kinder and calmer with their children because of you. I don’t have children, but I do “parent” in a way as a teacher. It’s a challenging position at times, but I recall your Tao and remain a graceful, gliding swan concealing the effort of it’s kicking feet as it swims on the lake’s glassy surface. I can only hope to follow such your influence.

Pleasant Journey, Mr. Fred. Thank you for being our “grandpa”. King of Hearts. May the Universe be kind to your soul.

Much love,


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