Charles Refford Adkins was born in Pikeville Kentucky, where he lived until his twenties. He then moved to Akron Ohio where he meet his wife, my mother Debbie Adkins, alittle while later I was born. When I was six, my brother was born, shortly thereafter our family moved to Barnesville, Ohio. My dad and mom bought a small piece of land in the country and that is where my dad called home. He tended the garden, moved the lawn; he lived a pieceful quiet life. He was a true fried to many, loyal to the end. My father suffered some heartache along the way. Life, at times, became a challege for him, this I know. He never asked for much, but what he did ask for always seemed to far away. This man was loved. His granddaughters, my children, Lauren and Ava have lost their grandpa, their biggest fan. My Ava still asks where grandpa went. The baseball bleachers will have one less fan cheering this year when Lauren plays. The pain and sadness are still bitter fresh for my family. For me. Regret lives in my chest, the hollow, uneasy feeling isn't ever far away. I am doing this memorial to remember my dad. I am saying now, what I didn't say enough of when it mattered. He left so many people that cared for him and I'm certain he wouldn't have believed it even if I could tell him. I not sure what happens to us when we pass. That is a question that I'm not sure I'll ever have the answer for. I'd like to think he's somewhere watching us. Feeling proud of what we've become. Keeping watch, helping me heal. Showing me the way. I love you daddy. Love your daughter, Sonya