FRED ALLEN

4/6/1957-11/29/2023

For Fred Allen, 4/6/1957-11/29/2023

You are Important

Fred, 66 trips around the sun

is music from your bones

into my person. This number rings

like a bell’s clacker clangs.

Your passing is my inspiration.

Did you know sixty-six symbolizes

the power of unconditional love,

harmony in overcoming

challenges and adversities?

Sixty-six stresses the importance

of facing life's challenges

with compassion and balance,

allowing one to navigate difficulties

with grace and resilience.

I didn’t know you, but I know

how much courage living takes,

how challenging balancing is.

Poverty makes navigating with grace

and resilience difficult, but my gut

says you got it done with compassion.

I hope you will rest in peace

in this warm safe place, a new home

to call your own with Mother Nature’s arms

holding you tight, loving you

and making everything alright.

by Catherine Perkins

The Road Traveled for Fred Allen, 4/6/1957-11/29/2023

Did you ever drive Route 66?

Was it one of many roads you chose

to traverse between start to finish?

Did you enjoy the ride before you died?

I drove on Route 66 once,

with my daughter. We stopped at Cadillac Ranch.

Did you have any children?

Did you ever ride in a Cadillac?

We were going to visit my mother

in New Mexico. She was sick, old and couldn’t breathe.

Could you breathe, freely, while you were alive?

Did you know your mother?

They say most people die alone

even if their space is full of other humans

the dying one waits until all leave the room.

My mother did. My father did. Did you?

Philosophically speaking are we ever alone?

Aren’t we always with the three of “me, myself and I?”

I’m here today to say feeling alone is okay

and being alone when you die is okay, too.

And even though we didn’t know each other

it’s okay for me to stand here with you, Fred Allen,

at this place and say: Goodbye, farewell, adieu-adieu, adios, vaya con dios,

arrivederci, dasvidaniya, dag, yah-soo. Namaste

May your sails be full of wind

when you need to get a move on

and may your wind be light or nonexistent

when you long to sit and wait for enlightenment.

by Catherine Perkins

Welcome Home

For Fred Allen

There is a little black boy

in a grown man’s body.

Let’s give this boy a mommy

that gives him a glass of milk

on a kitchen table

in a room warm and dry

and serves him biscuits

and tucks him in bed each night.

Let’s give this boy friends

to play with the next day,

new shoes and coat,

a golden retriever, a backpack

with books and pencils,

lunch money and an apple for a snack.

Let’s see that little boy

at the heart of a family.

Let’s wrap him in love

and joy and care-free adolescence.

Let’s see the boy finish school,

fall in love, make a home

with a wife.

Let’s give him health and abundance

and roof and a fridge, filled with food.

Let’s give him Easter, Christmas

with abundance of gifts.

Let’s give him faith, let’s give him a church.

Let’s give him children.

Also grandchildren.

Let’s give him lessons and learnings

and people to pass these learnings on.

Let’s see him inspire and teach others.

Let’s see him truly like himself.

Let’s see him a little proud.

Let’s see him feel complete.

Let’s see him at the peak of his powers.

Let’s see him ready to leave.

Let’s see him take God’s hand.

Let’s hear God say,

Well done, Fred Welcome home, friend.

With love and blessings,

Katerina Stoykova