B.G. Barr

I am back from my trip to Montreal--it was wonderful and I will tell you all about it later--with photos--I promise.

But right now, I'm not able to focus on the trip because when I returned home I learned that my grandfather died yesterday morning. For several years now he has been a shadow of the vibrant, funny, gentle man that I remember from my childhood and for the last year he has been suffering from multiple system atrophy. He would have good days and bad days. In October, Kelly, Hannah and I visited Grandma and Pop--here is Pop on a good day. He loved Hannah's sharp, blue eyes and I'm glad she got to meet him even though she won't remember. I loved listening to Pop's stories about his childhood when I was a kid--like the time he tried to dye his hair blonde, but it turned out green, and the time a buglar broke into their house and one of his brothers chased the thief, but kept stopping when the thief stopped because he was afraid of catching him, and the time he and his brothers pitched in to buy a car together, but they only way they could get it to start was if they parked it at the top of a steep hill and ran along side it until the engine started then jumped in. I know there are many more stories that I don't remember or haven't heard and I'm looking forward to getting together with my family this weekend in Kansas to spend some time remembering my grandfather.