Just got back from the service for my great grandfather Carl Kings funeral. I was a pallbearer. This post functions as a speech that I would have given at the service, had they let family members speak after the reverend concluded the service. During sixth grade at K.D. Waldo Middle School, after school would end, my brother, who was in eighth grade at the time, would walk to my great grandparents house. During this, I would wait for Kari DiSantis Moland to pick me up. When she did, she would drive me over there. After Mom, Bob, and I all rendezvoused at Grandma and Grandpa Kings (as we often called them) house, my brother and I would partake in an ice cream bar. My favorite was chocolate. A few years later, when Grandma King passed away, I only saw Grandpa King sporadically and inconsistently. Eventually, he stopped coming to family gatherings altogether. The last time I saw him in his house, I, along with Bob, Mom, and Carol King DiSantis, was delivering some groceries to him, most notably some microwavable burger patties. In the end, I never got to see his face one more time before he died. Being a pallbearer, however, allowed me to be close to him one last time, even if I couldnt actually see his face for reasons I will not divulge. Ill miss you Grandpa King. Thanks for being around.
Posted on: Fri, 15 Aug 2014 22:15:25 +0000
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