Diane Powell

Diane Elizabeth Watkins Powell, affectionately known as Nana, passed on Monday September 28, 2020 at 78 years of age. A resident of Sautee, Georgia and Satsuma Florida. She was born in Bartow, Florida on September 22, 1942 and grew up in South Miami, where she met the love of her life Ronald Eugene Powell, Sr. They were married on April 26, 1958 and lived in the area until 1980 before moving to Helen, Georgia. Her parents were Margaret Irene Rollins Scull and Paul Arelio Watkins, Jr. Ron and Diane had three children, Jenni Leigh Powell Grizzle, Tracy Nannette Powell, and Ronald Eugene Powell, Jr. Diane loved her Lord and her family and spent her time making their lives as full as possible from vacation Bible school to Girl Scouts. She ran several businesses during her life which included catering, childcare services, and a successful cabin rental business in Helen, Georgia. Her home and her heart were always open to help and she loved to cook for family and friends, especially on the holidays. Many family memories revolve around her kitchen and feasts at her table. She is survived by her beloved husband of 62 years, Ronald, her children, Jenni, Tracy, and Ron. Her grandchildren, Tye Ellis Powell Clark, Ashleigh Danielle Grizzle Nurse, Jacob Ian Grizzle, Shannon Elizabeth Powell Clark, Shane Everett Grizzle, Kacie Elayne Powell Clark, her great-grandchildren Noah Harper Archer, Naomi Rogan Boggs and god great grandson Cooper Jay Gailey. She loved and was loved by her stepfather Walter L. Scull, other family members and many nieces and nephews. A private celebration of life service will be held for family and friends at a future date. Instead of cut flower arrangements we ask that you send plants and bulbs to be planted in her memorial garden or make a financial donation for the garden. Please leave your thoughts and memories here on her memorial page. --- Mom, I love you and miss you. We always think we have more time. More time to love, more time to share, more time to say goodbye and my heart hurts that there is no more time for us here on earth. But, my heart also rejoices there will be more time for us in heaven. There are so many things for which I am thankful. Things you gave to me my whole life. Things you taught me and things you showed me by living so fiercely and fearlessly yourself. I will share a few of them here. Thank you for loving God, for you gave opportunity for me to know Him. Some of my best and earliest memories are the Vacation Bible Schools you led, where I learned deep in my heart just how much Jesus loves me no matter what. Your tenacious love and devotion brought us to worship every Sunday and to celebrate Jesus’ birth and resurrection every year. He is the forgiver of my sins, my salvation, my Savior, and my Lord. I thank Him that I will see you in heaven. Thank you for loving others. No matter the cost, you and dad always reached out to help everyone. You gave your heart, your time, your money, and never failed to share your table with all. Thank you for loving family. You valued and cared for each person and always went above and beyond to bring the family together. No matter the distance, you sacrificed to be the glue to keep us all connected. Thank you for loving me so well. Your support, encouragement, and unwavering belief in me let my spirit soar and helped me reach for my dreams. Thank you for showing me how to greatly love and nurture my children, for they are God’s greatest blessings in my life. Thank you for fighting for your beliefs. Life was never easy for you. From a small girl you had to struggle, but you never gave in and never gave up hope. You carved a rich life for your family and made a home for many in need. I thank God for you, for the time I was blessed to have you, and I am grateful you are now free of pain and free of sickness. Dance for us, sing for us, walk barefoot on the sands of time, smile at the beauty around you, and embrace your peace for JOY COMES WITH THE MORNING. I love you, Jenni Mama, You were never afraid to be my mother to put your foot down, to teach me right from wrong, to make sure I did my best. And you always let me know I had a mama who cared about me, who believed in me, who was there for me no matter what. Growing up with that kind of love and support made such a difference in my life, it made me who I am today. Love you Mom, you are my rock. Tracy Dear Mom, My Mother, Diane, was a loving and kind woman. She had a great laugh and always had a place at the dinner table for new people. She loved to cook and the skills and passion for food she taught me have lasted a lifetime. Her love and support for her family is eternal. I was lucky to have Diane be my mom for 51 years. She loved and is loved by her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. She will be missed by us all. Love, Ron To my Nana, I miss you so much already, and I’ll keep you with me always, Nothing could’ve made me ready, but I feel you in the sun’s rays, I know you’ll be in the rain, and I hear your whispers in the wind, and although we’re all in pain, I know we’ll meet again. I miss you nana, and I know no words that can express how I really feel, And my gratitude for everything you’ve done for me, thank you for being an amazing nana. I love you, Tye Lessons from my Grandmother The legacy someone leaves in your life is something you cannot fully appreciate until it is too late to tell them about it. All the compounding interactions are layered over time. Some of them are like stones dropped into your being that give off ripples which echo through the years. Others are like glue, they help you to hold on through the mundane times in life as well as the extraordinarily hard ones. Then there are moments which etch themselves into your mind, imprint themselves on your heart, and manifest themselves in the way you live. One of the lingering memories of my childhood is of our Epic Disney World Trip when Nana and Pa, each of their children’s “clans”, and a few additional family members camped in the park. Now, you would think I would remember the amusement park rides or the costumed characters the most. Or maybe the long pilgrimage down and back by car. But actually, what I remember the most from that trip is Nana and the ants. Nana and Pa had brought their camper down, and unbeknownst to them, some ants had stowed away and made the trip with them. They promptly made themselves known when their territory (i.e. the kitchenette of the camper) was put to use to prepare dinner. Most of us sat congregated outside the camper, engaged in various amusements while waiting to eat. Suddenly, Nana thrust the camper door open and waved a dish towel. She retreated back inside the camper, only to come out and do it again. We were all honestly perplexed. Pa finally asked “Diane, what the heck are you doing?” The “what” carried as much weight as the rest of the question. Nana promptly explained that she was “putting the ants out”. She didn’t want to kill them, just wanted to put them outside the camper. I learned that day that ants have some crazy directional abilities because after being collected on a dish rag, flung into the air, and landing a good one to two yards away, they ALL immediately turned about and started marching RIGHT BACK to the camper. But even more than that, I learned a deeper lesson in witnessing my grandmother’s actions. The consideration of life, even the life of creatures who are smaller than you, even when it is inconvenient. To this day I do not kill bugs in my house out of convenience, but only when necessary. So, every time I put a spider or moth outside, it is in part due to my Grandmother’s legacy. When I was a tween (in that horribly awkward stage where you have lost the innocence of childhood but haven’t yet attained the maturity of humility, so even though you don’t really know anything at all, you very much think you know it all about everything) I was at Nana and Pa’s house sweeping up the floor in the kitchen. I had swept all the debris into a pile and tackled the pile with the dustpan. Despite my best efforts there remained a thin line of dust that I could not get into the dustpan. My will was strong, but eventually I conceded and simply scattered the dust with the broom back across the floor. Inevitably, as it tends to happen when one decides to compromise in a way one shouldn’t, that was the very moment Nana rounded the corner. She chided me for my decision and asked why I did it. Well, I proceeded to rationalize my decision and cast blame on the dustpan, firmly believing there was no other option given the quality of my tools. Nana then told me that a job worth doing is worth doing right and the best way to get the last bit of dust up was to wipe it up with a damp rag. I remember immediately feeling both convicted and enlightened by her instruction. I had pridefully thought I knew best and was humbled by both the simplicity and integrity of the suggestion. Now, every time I sweep a floor and can’t get all the dust up, I wipe it up with a wet towel and remember her exhortation. Time passes by, sometimes in sprints and other times in measured steps. As Nana aged her health declined. Her vision dimmed, her mobility decreased, and her strength waned. Mortality makes some people hard. But in Nana it melted and tempered her, made her softer and peaceful in a way that birthed an abiding gratitude. Gratitude is the thing that most marked her in the later years of her life. Nana was grateful. Grateful for the warmth of sunshine on her face, grateful for a tiny, yappy dog in her lap, grateful for the small bite of dessert Pa would let her have, grateful that you would take the time to come and visit her, grateful for the grand-baby she got to hold, grateful for a hug or a kiss. Her joy and gratefulness were sometimes fierce and genuine in a way that took you buy surprise and other times cheerful and light in a way that brought an unwitting smile to your lips. And more than anything else, it was abiding. What a blessing to give in the twilight of life, the example of gratitude regardless of her circumstances. What a beautiful way to be able to remember my grandmother the rest of my life. What a lasting lesson Nana taught, without ever giving instruction. Over the last ten years, my life has persistently run at full throttle. When people asked me “How are you doing?” my response is ALWAYS “Good, but busy!” I was busy with work, busy with school, busy trying to get stuff done, busy with a new husband. Busy, busy, busy. I am pretty much always in a rush, always sleep deprived, always HERE, but needing to go THERE. The last time I saw Nana, I left my busy world and stepped into stillness. I came to see her, Pa, and my mom who was visiting them and we spent almost the whole visit “porchsitting”, actually looking at each other face to face, and enjoying the kind of slow paced conversation that lets you really get to know someone, and the peaceful silences that develop when you feel comfortable around someone. Nana was in no hurry at all and enjoying every minute of it. She was at such peace with where she was. I remember sitting there feeling something tight and coiled in me start to relax and unwind as the value of being still started to seep into my bones. I walked away from that day knowing that I needed to slow down. Knowing that life goes by too quickly to not be present in every moment. The truth I started to learn on a sunny porch that afternoon is another part of the legacy Nana left me, and yet another lesson my grandmother taught me during her life. The last lesson that Nana helped teach me, she didn’t teach me during her life, but after it. It is a lesson I have encountered before, but one you never really finish learning. Everything in this life passes away. Glory fades, money disappears, and youth wanes. Everything you try to plug into the problem is never enough. You always end up needing another relationship, another high, another trip to the store, another pint of ice cream, another chance for you mess up yet again. All is vanity and chasing after the wind. Everyone dies for the wages of sin are death, and everyone’s spirit returns to God who gave life to them. Then every spirit will stand before Him in judgment. But there is a Savior who intercedes on the cross at Calvary. He suffered the full penalty of our sin and the judgment that was ours was poured out on Him. Jesus swallowed up death in victory so we can have hope. If you put your faith in Jesus’s death and resurrection, if you cry out to Him, He will save you. He will walk with you through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. He will comfort you in your sorrow. And He will give you faith rooted in the truth of the cross. That is the last thing my Grandmother taught me. The value of My Savior and the hope of Eternity for us to be in heaven together. Love, Ashleigh No matter what I was doing, every time Nana saw me, she checked on me. She always said something to encourage me and would make sure I wasn’t getting into trouble or starting it. Regardless, I always knew she wanted the best for me and the rest of her grandkids and great grandkids. One of my favorite memories is how choked up she would always get every time we had Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner. She always tried not to cry, but did anyways. She is a grandmother I will always remember. Be at peace in heaven, Nana. Love you. Jake To know how much she will be missed is a reflection of how dearly she was valued and loved. Nana, Aunt Diane, Di, whoever she was to you, was a divine matriarch. Her family-oriented spirit radiated through our family, friends, and community. Anyone was welcomed, everyone had a seat at her beautifully adorned Thanksgiving table, and everyone had a gift under her spectacularly lit Christmas tree. She was a brilliant homemaker, cook, mother, grandmother, woman, and a force to be reckon with. Nana never shied away from saying her piece or standing her ground. As she became older the fierce demeanor evolved. She became the embodiment of down-to-earth calmness. Her advice for life was simplistic, real, gentle, and profound. She was carefree and happy, content with porch sitting with her puppies and pa. Nana loved hearing a ridiculous story about her great-granddaughters. She always gave a good belly laugh that was contagious. Her physical presence will be missed, but her spirit will remain with all of us. How lucky were we to know her and have her so long. Hallelujah by and by, Nana. We love you forever. Shannon, Noah, Naomi BY NOAH: I miss you, Nana. you're friendly and you made me feel happy. you were a good listener. It was fun spending time with you as my great-grandma. One of my recent and favorite memories of nana was when we were sitting on the porch, talking together, looking out at the trees swaying slightly in the wind during a calm summer day. Anyone who has stared into nature long enough knows it can be overwhelmingly peaceful, and I know during our conversation we both felt that peace come through that day. Gazing into nature was one of nana’s favorite pastime, and a pastime I need to make sure I partake in every day, even if only for a moment. Love you, Nana. Shane To Nana If I could describe Nana in words they would be : matriarch, strong and brilliant, elegant yet humble, fierce yet nurturing. It’s hard to put how much you mean to me into words. you have filled my life with so much. So much love, warmth, uncontrollable laughter, and countless memories I will cherish forever. From all the wonderful places we have been together. Trips to the beach, museums, Disney World, boat rides and train rides. My favorite memories are from all the meals you’ve made so we could gather as a family. I know they were your favorite too. The things you’ve taught me are endless From Lessons about life, all things cooking, how to sit like a lady and keep my shoulders back. The most important Wasn’t taught nor told, it was simply how you lived your life. Nana’s positivity was abundant and unmatched. Something I strive for daily. She modeled happiness is a personal choice in any situation And she always chose it. I’m so blessed and grateful to have had such a brilliant women to look up to and to call my grandma. Nana your joy and light will stay with me always I will forever miss and love you. Kacie