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.