Grandpa was many things: A family man and a pipeline welder; a good ol’ boy and a farmer; an adventurer and teller of tales (some dubious, some hilarious) with a lucky streak a mile wide. I entered his story when he had already retired from his welding career and was living in Rainbow, just east of Fallbrook, tending his eclectic grove of citrus, avocados and macadamia nuts, to name a few. I remember climbing into the passenger seat of his maroon, 80-something Cadillac on hot days and driving into town for an ice cream — he called it “that Thrifty feelin’.” And, most of all, I remember his smile — that genuine, unmistakable symbol of a life well lived.

On Jan. 17, we held a memorial service at our church and then headed to Riverside National Cemetery, across I-215 from March Air Force Base, where he is buried.

Rest in peace, Grandpa. We’ll miss you.

This is our niece, Lorelai. She didn’t seem to mind the cold.

Probably the coolest thing I saw all weekend was the sunset on Sunday evening. My mom knew of a beach near where we were staying, and people had thrown debris onto the lake ice.

We have a ton of photos to blog, so please check back often. Until next time…