Kenneth A. SKITT, 71, died Wednesday, December, 23, 2015 at his home after a two and a half year battle with Pancreatic Cancer. Husband of Beverly (Marcoccio) Skitt. They had been married for 43 years.
Born in Providence, he was a son of the late Harry and Florence (Rawon) Skitt. He had lived in Smithfield for 38 years and had previously lived in Cranston.
He was the father of Tara Sczerbinski of West Warwick and Lianne Denham of Lincoln, father –in-law of John Sczerbinski and Michael Denham, loving grandfather of Danika and Michael Denham and Alexandra Sczerbinski and survived by brothers William and Thomas Skitt of North Attleboro and Gayle Schmitz of East Sandwich, MA. He was the brother of the late Gary and Donald Skitt.
Ken was a public school teacher and principal in the Town of Johnston for 37 years. He was also a NAUI scuba diving instructor for 40 years.
His funeral will be held Monday at 8:30am from the ANDERSON-WINFIELD Funeral Home, Rt 44 at Greenville Common, Greenville. Mass of Christian Burial at 9:30 am in St. Philip Church, 622 Putnam Pike, Greenville. Visitation Sunday 4-7 pm. Please Omit Flowers. If desired donations to Kenneth Skitt Memorial Scholarship Fund, c/o 1 Maplecrest Drive, Greenville, RI 02828
The following is the eulogy prepared by his daughter, Tara.
Good Morning Everyone! Most of you know me, for those of you who don’t; I’m Tara – Ken’s oldest daughter. On behalf of my mom, my sister and my entire family I would like to thank every last one of you for everything…being part of my father’s life, carrying on this legacy in your own way, helping him in his hour of need, and for being here today. Today we are celebrating an amazing life!
“I am the living legacy to the leader of the band” this is a line from a song my dad loved. I remember hearing this line a lot as a child; particularly around the time my dad lost his father. It seemed to hold meaning for him and give him comfort; ironically hearing it now gives me comfort.
But the truth is Lianne and I are the living legacies to the leader of the band. My father was the leader of many bands through his life…band of brothers, friends, 5th and 6th graders, divers, soccer players, and our family. He cared deeply about every last band member that entered his life, no matter how brief the interaction. My father always was sure to learn all of their names and something meaningful about them. Until his last, he could remember every last one. It was clear that everyone who touched his life and was a member of his “band” left an imprint on his heart. By looking around last night and today, I can see that clearly he left his mark on all of you.
Like any great person, great “band leader” my father felt a tremendous sense of responsibility to all of them. He was constantly thinking of ways to help others, whether it was a friendly suggestion on how to do something differently, putting someone in touch with someone who could help them, or finding a way to get what they needed my father was always thinking about others. I can’t tell you how many times he would tell me that thinking about this kept him up or how many times he’d enlist me in brainstorming solutions as well. My father also had a way of thinking outside the box. Ironically this ability of his helped him get to the heart of the problem more efficiently.
“I owned every second that this world could give. Saw so many places, the things that I did. With Every Broken Bone I Swear I Lived”
My father had his share of injuries in his younger days. Motorcycles, rough softball, and tackle football will do that. When we got hurt, we often heard him tell us “you gotta play with pain”. My Dad seems he played it safer once he became a Dad. Though the injuries became less frequent, he still lived his life to the fullest. My father’s personal motto was “only those who experience truly live” he embodied this. My father loved to travel, see new places, and do new things. It was important to my father that Lianne and I have as many of these new experiences as we could. He wanted us to know, without any doubt, that we were part of a great big world that was far bigger that our back yard than Rhode Island, than the United States. On days like today, we hold the memories of those experiences close to our hearts.
A Little over two years ago, while on a memorable vacation, my father started to feel ill. Upon returning home, he was quickly hospitalized and we later learned he had Pancreatic Cancer, an awful disease that claims all but 2% of those diagnosed within 5 years. The silver lining was the doctors caught it early and all his doctors felt he could be the 2%. About 5 years earlier, a computer science professor at Carnegie Melon with the same diagnosis was in the news. Randy Pausch was a lot younger than my dad but had the same spirit and will to live. He was nominated by his colleagues to deliver what they called a “The Last Lecture” which became a book. Through my journey I have read passages again and again. One that really stuck with me was “We cannot change the cards we’re dealt. Just how we play the hand.”
There is no arguing that my father was dealt the worst hand imaginable. He chose to make the most of it. My Dad did not let his illness define him or dictate how he was going to live. After each treatment, as soon as the big side effects went away, he would be back to entertaining, yard work, and chasing his grandchildren. My father was the self-proclaimed “best diaper changer in the east”. Once a round of chemo finished, once the doctors cleared him, he was back to teaching dive classes and traveling. In the past two years, my parents visited in Mexico, Canada and Hawaii. Quite possibly, his most valued trips would have to be Story Land in New Hampshire and Disney. While in Disney, my father and sister realized his life long dream and SCUBA dove in the Living Seas Tank at EPCOT.
My father was determined to be that 2% and his doctors were right there with him until the end. Which is possibly why we are so shocked to be to be here now. If anyone deserved to beat cancer, why not Ken? Why not a man who had touched so many lives, in so many ways, have a miracle? Why not a person with so much energy and so much to live for beat an awful disease? Why not such an amazing husband father, grandfather, friend, teacher, man, be spared? Why not him?
My dad was full energy and life up to the last. I find it hard believe that his energy has just stopped. I firmly believe his energy is still here and will remain. Many of you hear have learned something from my dad in some shape or form. It may have been as a student, as a diver, as family or as a friend. He touched your heart and taught you something. In you, his energy and legacy will remain.