A graveside service for Jon Larkins, 65, of Perry will be held Friday, April 27 at 10:30 a.m. at the Violet Hill Cemetery in Perry.
Jon passed away Monday, Feb. 12, 2018, at the Mercy Medical Center in Des Moines, Iowa.
According to his wishes, Jon was cremated. Memorials will be given to the family and may be left at the Carris Family Funeral Home and Cremation Care. Online condolences may be sent at www.carrisfuneralhome.com.
Jon Michael Larkins was born Feb. 4, 1953, in Des Moines, Iowa, to George Marion and Mary (Williams) Larkins.
He graduated from the Des Moines Public Schools.
He was employed at Wiese Corporation, Osmundson Manufacturing and, lastly, at the Progressive Foundry for 22 years.
He was a member of the Crossroads Church in Perry.
Jon was a talented musician and played guitar and sang, even writing some of his own songs. He could also write poetry.
While living at the Rowley Community, he painted vases and played Santa Claus at Christmas for the kids.
He enjoyed fishing, telling jokes and making people laugh.
He was always trying to help somebody that needed help.
In death he rejoins his parents, George and Mary Larkins; and two brothers, Martin Larkins and Bob Larkins.
Left to cherish Jon’s memory are his ex-wife, Sandra Pettry of Perry; children, Thomas Theulen of Colfax, and step-children, John Widen of Ankeny, Bob Widen of De Soto, Michael Widen of Perry and Joella Lavagino of Twin Falls, Idaho; nine grandchildren; and siblings, Marion (Debbie) Larkins of New Virginia, Iowa.
Silent Story by Jon Larkins
The old man sat at the table there.
He went unnoticed. No one seemed to care.
People were talking about events of the day,
But the old man sat alone,
With his face weathered and gray.
I sat down across from him.
He spoke not a word.
His face told a story
That only my eyes heard,
With snow white hair, and weathered brow,
The calloused hands from guiding a plow,
The wrinkled face, from the wind and rain,
The sad eyes that hid the pain.
I thought to myself, How many roads have you walked?
Yes, his story was told
As we silently talked.
I wonder in life, when I turn old,
Who will sit across my table and see my story told?
