I had just got off the bus & home from second week of 6th grade. My first taste of middle school & school lockers. I walk in the door & my dad says, “I’ve noticed your backpack is stuffed full and weighs about as much as you each day. It’s so heavy. What’s going on?” I broke down in tears and blurted, “because it has all of my books for each class.” “What? Why?”, my dad asked. “Because I can’t figure out how to use my locker combination lock. And it’s embarrassing and everyone watching me struggle to open it between classes. So I just decided to keep all books in my backpack.” My dad instantly pauses for a few seconds as he looks at me, then just like that, he grabs his keys & heads towards the garage door while saying, “Let’s go for a quick car ride. We’ll fix this.” We ended up going to Staples. We purchased one item & return home a half hour later with a silver metal and black dial old school combination lock. The only purchase & reason for the trip. Over the next hour, he sits down with me in the living room and all we do is practice unlocking the lock using combinations until I feel confident I can do it. The next day, my walk home up the steep hill from the bus stop was much easier. He had lightened my load. Literally & figuratively.
Let the memory of Edwin be with us forever.
Eddie was so many different things.
Eddie gave it to you straight with no sugar coating, yet had a great deal of empathy for everyone.
He was tough but fair. He was strong but soft. He was the life of the party but an introvert.
He felt like there was a “right way” to do a lot of menial tasks yet was open minded when it came to others opinions on the bigger things.
He worked insanely hard but played harder probably. He was a wild man in his youth yet effortlessly excelled as a devoted and warm father of three very different daughters.
He liked adventure and to go go go, yet he always stopped to appreciate the little moments in life along the way.
Resting place · Bethany Community Methodist Church, Franklinville, North Carolina
Honor Edwin
A gesture of sympathy in their memory.
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