Kwame was raised to work with his hands and keep his word. He learned early that showing up mattered more than speaking well. Friends from those years still talk about a boy who would finish a job, then stay to help with yours.

He was a father who came to the recitals and a husband who made the morning coffee without being asked. Kwame measured a good day by whether the people he loved had what they needed. The grandchildren remember the slow walks and the way he listened as if he had nowhere else to be.

Colleagues knew him as the person who mentored without making a show of it. Kwame took pride in work done properly and in the younger people who went on to do it better. He said the real achievement was leaving a place kinder than he found it.

Wood in his hands, a late garden, a bench with a friend. Kwame did not need a crowd. The quiet hours — sanding a small bowl, sitting by the window — are the ones that feel closest now.