My Grandpa Barney died this week. He was 81 years old, yet he didn't die of old age. He was killed doing something he loves, working on his farm. He was getting his cows ready to sell, which he was heart broken about, when one of the cows didn't want to cooperate and rammed into his chest breaking his sternum and causing him to fall and hit his head leading to severe brain damage. The doctors did what they could but not much could be done. It was time to let him go, but his memories will live on.
Memories of Grandpa Barney are many, but here are a few that stand out. I remember him giving money to someone who was in need even though he wasn’t a rich man himself. I remember him giving watermelons away when he could make more by selling them. I remember learning to pick watermelons on summer mornings and him splitting one open for us every now and then to eat the heart out of. I remember learning how to start an irrigation pipe and being so proud of myself when I could final get one to work. I remember horseback rides and milking cows. I remember him letting us drive his truck on the farm. I remember his pet tarantulas and having one thrown on me once. I remember his silly camp songs like “Catalina Magdalena,” “Boom, Boom Ain’t it Great to Be Crazy,” and “Pile of Tin.” Most of all I remember the man he was. The love he always shared, and the joy and humor he brought to life even when there was work to be done. He was a great man who was loved and will truly be missed.
There was a day this week when I was having a really hard time and my two little girls found me crying. They both lovingly put there arms around me to provide comfort and my oldest, Kelsi, turns to me and with such great faith said, "Mom, it's okay, he will live again real soon." It is truly a blessing to know that this life is not the end. That we will all be resurrected again someday and that through the grace of God and if I do my best to live righteously we can be together again someday.
