Tamara Shannon

This week Brent and I attended the funeral services for Brother Barton. We knew him as a counselor in our single ward's bishopric, missionary and institute teacher; he always greeted us with a genuine smile and was so concerned with our lives (especially Brent-he always seemed so excited to see Brent). Each of his 7 children spoke about their father and I was so touched by each of their remarks. Maybe because I remembered his dedication and hard work and maybe because it reminded me of my own father. He worked in construction (I believed owned his own company) but always insisted working along side his workers. To borrow some of the words of one of his daughters: he was a pilot, father, missionary, teacher, grandfather and husband to name a few. Up until the day he died he continued to work and to serve as he could-he was planning on going to a work site the next day with his son to help with the electrical outlets (the title of this blog was taken from a list of his favor