My sweetheart how I miss you I found that picture of you you never showed me. The one when you were 17 and had quit high school to join the Marine Corp! What a hunk you were!! I have it framed upon the fireplace now. Frankie I feel your presence, your always with me....the love of my life , things not always perfect but I always knew God put his thumb on you for me,,,,ever since he hearde pray when I was 13 in a dark closet....he chose you you didn't stand chance!! Daddy it's been over a year since God scooped you up and took you home so you'd have no pain. I was so happy for you, but still miss you so much. My eyes water without my permission . The hard thing is I have to be so brave and carry on. You always took care of me. I get by , by sensing your presence and feeling your love for me...gosh, I was a dumb little thing but you always held me up high....ah, I love you...sweet Frankie, of mine...one day I'll. be with you again but you may have to pull me through...hold my hand Frankie , tight ...love polly
Long, long time family Friends, Dee and John Johnson with their grandkids.
I met Frank in 1985, shortly after he & I both moved to The Woodlands. I came to be the new pastor of the Nazarene Church trying to get started in The Woodlands, and he had just moved from Arizona to work at Pennzoil.
I lived in The Woodlands for 8 years, and if I was to look back to figure out who my best friend was, it would have to be Frank. He was my treasurer, my sound man, and my sounding board.
Whenever I was lost, hurt or uncertain, he was there, mostly to listen, always to encourage. He could have been old enough to be my father, but I never felt that way around him.
I tried on 2-3 occasions after I moved from The Woodlands to tell him how much I loved and appreciated his friendship, but I'm not sure he ever understood.
I always thought Frank & Polly were the perfect match. Polly, so funny, running everywhere to do everything. Frank, solid as a rock, smiling, doing what needed to be done.
Thank you Frank for being my friend, for touching my life, for making me a better man.
How long now?
Over a year isn't it
Are you safe?
I wish I could say it ain't so
but it is.
We all miss you
Mom is doing well.
One of my first memories of Frankie was when I was dating Keenie and I came over to their house on Arroyo Chico in Tucson. Frankie was sitting in a big chair in the living room, and Polly was snuggled on his lap. They were both smiling, obviously in love and comfortable with each other. I love that memory because it illustrates not only Frankie's constant love and support for Polly and all of his large family, but also his playful nature, which wasn't always right up front but which you knew was in there, ready to sparkle out at the right moment.
My father in law has always abided in a special part of my mind and heart. He was there when he was living, and is still there now that he is gone. This is a place of constancy, love, wisdom, and support. He welcomed me into the family even though I was not of his faith, held my babies when they were little and nudged them gently when they needed it as they grew. He was as near as a phone call when Keenie needed help with something he was trying to fix, and when we all got together, he managed to be completely present without hardly opening his mouth. Until, that is, something riled him up or captured his passion. We all know how he could wax poetic at those times, and when Frankie got on a roll like that, we all listened because we knew it was worth hearing.
He is the model of a Christian man to me, steadily faithful, forgiving, loving, a man who lived his faith every day all day.
Of course one of the best things he and Polly did, in my opinion, was produce their son Paul Keiner, who became my husband 30 years ago. While Keenie and his father are different in many ways, they are alike in the essentials of crisp intelligence, deep and constant love for their families, strongly held values, and that precious dash of playfulness.
Farewell, Frankie. Thank you for all you have given to all of us. We will miss you, and we will continue to learn from the example you so wonderfully set.