Today is the 38th anniversary of his death. I was only 6 when he died, but I still have memories of him. I always associate Grampa with pool tables and doing whatever he could do to make a shot - he would get into some creative positions with the cue stick behind his back just to get a better shot. I also think of him whenever I hear about rootbeer floats. The day of his funeral most of the grandkids went over to 'Aunt Marilyn's' house - this was Aunt Chickie's sister-in-law. She was getting ready to make us rootbeer floats when our parents came to pick us up. I remember getting upset because we wanted to stay and have our floats. Thinking back I felt bad because I'm sure we protested (as six and seven year olds do when they aren't getting their way) when Mom had us come home. Of course, I wasn't thinking about how she felt and that she just buried her father, but only about not getting what I wanted. I'm sorry if we made a hard day harder Mom.
I came across these pictures the other day and thought I would post them. We took these on Memorial day before we moved.
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