We call my dad's dad Opa because when my parents lived in Germany and my oldest brother, Karsten, was learning to talk, he called him by a German word for grandpa, Opa. That's been his name in our household ever since.

We've been collecting pictures of him over the last couple days to reminisce. Here are a few of these that I have on my computer.

My dad's sister, Beverly, and her husband, Bob, Opa, and my dad.

Opa and my dad at the gravesite of Oma--my dad's mom.

Four generations: Opa, Daddy, Karsten, Abel

Four generations: Opa, Daddy, Me, Orison

Opa and Talitha. 

A couple of Opa's loves: books and ice cream--peanut butter, no doubt.

Opa with the Vanden Akkers and the Roberts, leaders of ROGMA.

And this is pretty much how I remember him being all the time.