Marcia A. Powell

In Loving Memory of Marcia Kraiosky Powell
I first met Marcia Powell when I was in the seventh grade and she was in the eighth at St. Brendan School. We were in a split class together, and from the very start there was something steady and warm about her-something that made me feel immediately at home. Our friendship grew naturally and easily, as if it had simply been waiting to happen.
When we went on to Chaney High School, we walked to school together every day. Marcia was always early, already standing on the sidewalk waiting patiently, while I was, without fail, late. We didn´t yet know that tardiness might be genetic, so on especially late mornings, I´d sometimes earn a dignified silence from her-at least until I managed to say something ridiculous enough to make her laugh. And there was no better sound than her laughter.
During our summers, we walked through Mill Creek Park, talking about everything and nothing. I don´t think we ever ran out of conversation-or perhaps she was simply gifted at listening. She had a way of being completely present with you, making you feel understood.
Marcia was clever and creative. She sewed her own clothes-something that amazed me-and even tried to teach me to sew a pair of culottes. She would ask, with hope in her voice, "Get it?" And I would have to confess, every time, "No." She always smiled. Her artistic talents were remarkable that sweet gentle smile. She took classes at the Butler Institute of American Art, and her work had a beautiful, flowing quality that felt like an extension of her spirit.
She was warm, kind, gentle in her humor, and deeply rooted in her faith. Life carried us in different directions once we began raising our families, and though we lost touch, the memories of our childhood and teenage years together never left me. Those days remain some of the most tender and vivid pieces of my heart.
I only recently discovered that she had passed, after her services were already held. My heart aches for the chance to have sat beside her once more, or simply told her that I never stopped carrying her friendship with me.
To Marcia´s family, I offer my deepest condolences. She was a light in this world-quiet, kind, and genuine. The world was a better place because she was in it, and my life was certainly richer for having known her.
May she rest in peace, wrapped in the love she gave so freely. I will always miss my sweet friend.