Robert A. Perrin passed away unexpectedly at home on June 8, 2019. He was born June 15, 1940, in Westerly, RI to Gordon E. and Carolyn “Kay” (Derricks) Perrin. He was predeceased by his brother Gordon “Derry” Perrin and his sister-in-law Gayle Perrin. He was a lifelong resident of Ashaway, RI.
He served in the Marine Corp, and then worked many years in the family business, Atena Pumps, as an industrial pump repair and service man. He later worked for James Romanella and Sons as an operating engineer.
He loved the outdoors and simply being in nature. Whether in a canoe, on the trail, or at the beach, that’s where he was most comfortable, especially at his beloved Center Pond.
He will be sadly missed by his children, Jennifer Ricci and husband John of West Greenwich, RI, Robert E. Perrin and wife Theresa of Holderness, NH, Thomas Perrin and wife Patricia of North Kingstown, RI, Tracy Amalfetano and husband Robert of Coventry, RI, Andrew Perrin and wife Leslie of South Kingstown, RI, and Daniel Perrin of Providence, RI. Grand-Pa Perrin treasured his grandchildren Zach, Ben, and Jake Ricci, Alex McArthur, Bella Anderson, and Jonah Perrin, Nathan and Matthew Amalfetano, Sam and Annie Perrin and Josiah Perrin. He will be missed by his cousin, and best friend William Perrin, as well as his nieces and nephews.
All services will be private at the request of the family.
For online condolences, please visit www.buckler-johnston.com
Robert Allan Perrin
To me, Grandpa.
Grandpa Bob, I would say. Grandpa Perrin, he would quickly correct.
His name will live on.
Oil stained and calloused, his hands told stories, of trees he cut down, trinkets he built, property he took care of.
His finger prints, like rings in a tree, age they tell, 79 he would be.
The embrace of an LL Bean flannel.
His hug, gentle.
The smell of pine and wood chips.
A working man.
His hard work paid off.
Retired young, he had time to give.
Time for his children, his grandchildren.
Loud and clear, I would leave him messages and he would be there, at my races, supporting me, cheering me on.
Though his words were few, his love spoke to me ever so clear.
Fishing, canoeing, tractor driving, wreath making.
He taught me these things with love, care and patience.
This final wreath we lay, by his grave.
He is buried now, like the roots of Lady Slippers.
One with nature, as he has always wanted to be.
By Isabella (Perrin) Anderson