Kenneth M. Booth

Kenneth Michael Booth was embraced by his loving parents in heaven on November 14, 2025, passing peacefully in his sleep with love in his heart.
He was predeceased by his parents, Kenneth W. and Candida (DeAngelis), and by his wife, Diane (Regina), whom he loved deeply, love that remained unchanged beyond their time together on earth.
His absence leaves an immeasurable void in the hearts of his daughters, his "three angels," Andrea, Kelly, and Kimberly. He was such a devoted "girl dad" that God blessed him with the chance to do it all again as a loving grandfather to Autumn, Kailey, and Hannah.
Kenneth is survived by his sisters, Jane and her husband William Trevethan, and Judith and her husband William Bitzer; his niece and nephews, Paul, Vincent, Christopher, and Judi, and their families; his Aunt Ann and Uncle Nick Tosca; his sons, Timothy Cummings and James Chidester; and Kimberly's significant other. Along with many cousins, including David, who visited with him regularly and dear friends, Cliff, Jimmy, and Nathan, who were a tremendous help to Kenneth and his family in the months leading to his passing, and many neighbors in the Enfield community, where his made his home raising his family.
Born on February 18, 1952, Kenneth (AKA Budha) grew up in Windsor, Connecticut. As a boy, he loved playing ball, building a dune buggy in the garage with his dad, listening to and collecting music, and attending concerts. He often spoke fondly of the time he spent gardening with his grandfather-learning to dig, plant, and tend to the earth. Every spring, as he planted his own garden or helped someone else with theirs, he revisited those memories. Gardening for Kenneth was never just a hobby-it was an act of love. He gave away more flowers and vegetables than he ever kept, offering them freely to family, friends, neighbors, and even the mailman.
Music was another constant thread in his life. When Kenneth listened, everyone listened (he made sure the stereo could reach everyone in the neighborhood!) Every song held a meaning, a memory, or a story, and he delighted in sharing the history behind the music he loved. Music was the script of his life, and he shared it with joy.
Kenneth's work ethic was unmatched. He was never above any task and approached everything with determination and focus, not only in supporting his family, but also in helping friends and neighbors. Even after a long workday, if he mowed his own lawn, he would mow the neighbors' lawns as well, knowing how much it meant to come home and spend the evening with family rather than facing another chore. He spent most of his career in planning and scheduling with the Stanadyne Corporation and later at AAR.
Kenneth was a communicant of St. Gertrude's Church in Windsor and St. Patrick's Church in Enfield. He lived in the way he believed. Though he sometimes saw himself as the underdog, it only strengthened the remarkable mark he left on the world around him. He was always the first to step up, offering help with unconditional love and compassion. He never sought recognition; a simple thank you, or simply witnessing someone else's joy, was enough. His heart and door were always open to anyone in need of a place to rest. He lived by the belief that if he had more, even if it wasn't much, and someone beside him had less, he would share. He would never judge anyone by their circumstances and always offered a hand-up to those in need.
As a father, he was outnumbered by his girls and often caught in the middle of their antics and pranks. He was famous for saying, "Can't we all just get along?" Each daughter was wonderfully different, and each gave him a run for his money in her own way. Yet he balanced discipline with grace. After losing his wife, he made sure to show up for every milestone, every graduation, every moment of celebration, every birth of his granddaughters. He was his daughters' biggest cheerleader and advocate, whether they chose to follow a straight path or the long, winding one. When they stumbled, he helped them stand, chin up and facing forward. He believed in them, and when they struggled to believe in themselves, he reminded them why they should. The best parts of Kenneth live on in his children.
Kenneth approached even small gestures with great love. When choosing cards for birthdays, holidays, or life's milestones, he would visit store after store, reading each one until he found the perfect message. Every Valentine's Day, he made sure his daughters, and later his granddaughters, received flowers and chocolates. He was their greatest Valentine.
Alongside his love and compassion, Kenneth also enjoyed a good debate. When he flashed a sly grin, those who knew him understood a lively discussion, philosophical, political, or just plain silly, was about to begin. He always looked beneath the surface, questioning the world around him, yet he never let its chaos harden the gentle edges of his spirit.
His family extends heartfelt gratitude to The Suffield House, where Kenneth spent his final weeks. The nursing staff, aides, physicians, administrative staff, therapy team, and facilities staff cared for him with gentle kindness, treating him as their own. Their compassion was felt by Kenneth and his family, even after his final moments. Special thanks to Michael, a fellow resident, who checked on Kenneth regularly and made sure the music from his own room could be heard in Kenneth's.
His family will receive friends on Tuesday, November 25, 11 a.m.–12 Noon, with a Prayer Service, 12 Noon, at Carmon Funeral Home, 807 Bloomfield Ave., Windsor.
Burial will follow in Agawam Center Cemetery, Agawam, MA.
In lieu of flowers, donations in Kenneth's memory may be made to The Suffield House for their recreation program, helping residents enjoy and tend to their beautiful courtyard garden, or to the Enfield or Windsor Public School Systems in support of their music programs. If a donation is not possible, the family asks you to honor Kenneth by living as he did-with compassion, gratitude, and kindness toward your neighbors and the world around you. At the very least, turn your music up just a little louder and smile- facing forward, with your chin up.