One of my fondest memories of Ken happened six months or so before he broke his ankle, which was the beginning of his slow decline. This would have been some time in the fall of 2006 - I was not working at the time. Ken showed up one day and told me our shutters looked terrible and he was there to clean them for us. Ten years earlier, such a statement would have royally pissed me off, but as happens when we get older, I was enjoying a new mellowness. I looked at my shutters and thought "Yeah, he has a point." We spent the day cleaning the shutters. Rather, HE spent the day cleaning the shutters; I spent the day passing water and rags and chemicals back and forth through the upstairs windows. Ken tiptoed around on the roof over our porch, washing and scrubbing and washing some more. I was convinced that he was going to fall and break his neck, but somehow, he got the job done. Ken was a world-class workhorse, and I remember feeling strangely important to have been chosen to help out with one of his projects. It was a good day. (And the shutters looked awesome.)
It was a hard week for all of us, especially Mark. But in the midst of all of our sadness, God chose to bless us tremendously in lots of small ways. I won't share all of them with you - many of them are not my stories to tell - but this experience has strengthened my faith both in God and in people considerably. I know that God is good. I know that people are kind. And I know that Heaven is a little cleaner and quite a few things will get fixed up now that Ken is there. : )
I will share one thing that struck me as particularly poignant, probably more than anyone else. Both of Mark's brothers asked him to help them tie their neckties before the memorial service. It seems that neither of them ever learned; any time they needed to wear a necktie, they had their father tie it for them. To me, that was such a simple but such a profound picture of what it means to lose a father.
Good-bye Pops. We will miss you.

