Grandpa. Well at least I think I would have called you that, even though I'm not quite sure what you would've preferred out of "papaw", "granddad", or just simply "grandpa", but we'll stick to simplicity, since that's how I know you liked things. Simple.
Let's start with the things I know. You were born on July 8th, 1941 to Amos and Daisy Powell. You married my grandma in February of 1961, and my dad was born 2 years later in 1963. I know you passed away on May 1st, 1995. And I know for sure that was the most painful day in a lot of people's lives. I know my dad doesn't like to talk about what happened much, because I know it was hard for him and everyone else in this family to watch you suffer the 6 years that you were in pain. And I know I wish I could've been there to hold your hand through everything you endured.
But grandpa, I'm mad. I'm so damn mad at the universe. See, my brothers remember you a little. They remember sitting on your lap at the nursing home and my parents taking them to see you, but I didn't even get that chance. I missed hearing your voice, holding your hand, or even seeing what you looked like outside of pictures by 2 short years and I can't help but be mad at how the universe could be so cruel to not only make you suffer but to also take you before you got to hold your last born grandchild and only granddaughter.
But grandpa I'm also so thankful at the same time. I'm thankful that you didn't have to suffer 2 more years. And I'm thankful for the memories you made with people so they get to share those memories with me. I'm thankful that I even have the chance to say "my grandpa is Cecil Powell Sr."
I have been told a lot about you. How you were a hard working, straightforward, honest man. How you were not only a great husband but also a great father to my dad and second father to many, a loving uncle to your nieces and nephews, a wise brother, and a dedicated Shriner. I'm always told that you would have been the best grandpa my brothers and I could've asked for and I believe it.
Sometimes I go through grandma's pictures just so I can get a glimpse of what your life was like. I swear I think I've seen the same pictures a hundred times but I will never stop, because I just want to feel like I was there in those moments and feel the happiness everyone around you felt.
When grandma moved in with us I wanted to go through every little thing she had of yours to find something with your signature because handwriting is unique to every person, no one writes the same and I wanted your unique mark on this world to be a part of me. I thought I looked through everything until about a month ago, when I found your handwriting in an anniversary card to grandma and I broke down. I finally found your handwriting I had never seen before, something that was completely unique to you. And grandpa, today it became a part of me.
Lastly, Grandpa, know you are being remembered and honored everyday by this family. And grandpa, I promise I will live my life to make you proud. I will never bring shame to this last name I know meant the world to you. I will love my family unconditionally, even the ones I fight with because you taught everyone that no one turns their back on another Powell. And I promise I will leave my mark on this world and in people's hearts like you did. I love you, even though we have not met...yet.
You're loving granddaughter,
Savannah Jo Powell
