Rainy Day Thoughts

[Mr.Vic]

In 1968 bow hunting became a tradition in our family. From the moment a older gentlemen gave me a  bear fiberglass bow and a hand full of arrows i was hooked. The best times of my life growing up were bow hunting rabbits in the field behind our home with that little green bow. And from ten years old onward to bow hunting with my dad. It was those times in the outdoors together that forged the bond between brothers and father. Through the years we became best of friends. I can still picture the day in my mind when i first sat with dad in his homemade tree stand waiting on a deer. Hear him tell me,"the deer will come from this way so pay attention and be quiet". He was right as a doe finally came out in front of us. I asked him to let me shoot it and he explained one has to be patient an let em get closer for a good shot. I think it was every minute i asked if i could shoot, an what seemed like hours gone by he finally gave in to me. It was a defining moment for me, something larger than a rabbit to shoot. I don't think pops was worried about me hitting it, as if i remember right i was shaking that Ben Pearson recurve like a leaf in a wind storm. But i did, right behind the front legs but way low. We never found that doe but my first lesson to bow hunting was learnt, let them get close. Now that he's  gone I struggle with many thoughts. When i sit out in the stand sometimes i can hear him in my mind, "Any minute the big boy will come waltzing in". Other times all i think about is the night i found him passed away at the edge of the woods with his bow in hand. What he went through hunting all alone that night as his heart gave out. What would us boys have done and how would we have reacted if that one time we would have been hunting with him? Would he still be here? Negative thoughts are always at battle in me. The one positive i keep telling myself is he went doing the one thing that has always brought joy to him and his boys. We as a family have spent numerous years bow hunting and I'm so glad we got to bow hunt as much as we did. Together from Canada to Colorado. Those are great memories and we have many deer mounts between us, but i would trade all of mine to hunt one more day with him. I hope he is looking down and knows that i understand fully the gift he has given my brother and i. To know what really matters in life.  

[Dave Weiss]

Sorry for your loss, I know how tough that can be. Also know that he'll always be with you...
Personally, I can't think of a better way to go. I hope I get that lucky.

[buckster]

Thank you for sharing this heart-felt and motivational post. I imagine that you father is proud and smiling down from Heaven.

[MnFn]

Those sentiments hit me often on the last day of my hunting seasons as I walk quietly back to my vehicle.

Kind of a melancholy feeling; l miss the guy that took me deer hunting when I was probably 8 years old. My folks bought me my first hunting bow, a 40 lb Shakespeare.
The best times of my early life were with my dad, hunting and fishing.

[Killdeer]

Thanks for the reminder, Vic.
I remember that story. Now that you mention that green Bear fiberglas bow, I am reminded of a pic of me at thirteen, with my granddad, shooting a Bear "Green Fox".

Still have it. I am 60.
Killdeer    

[ron w]

Good memories are the best memories........never let them go.

[David Mitchell]

That's a great walk down memory lane. I am glad you have those memories.  My dad never once took me hunting or fishing--always said we were going camping and squirrel hunting "on piney bluff".  Sounded so exciting but never happened.  I loved my dad and lost him far too soon, but how I wish we had shared those times he spoke about and I hoped for and made the memories you have!

Killdeer, you have been away from here too long--great to see your post. I always enjoy them.  

[Homey88]

Very powerful post,thank you for sharing.

[MCNSC]

Thanks for sharing, really can't think of a better way to go.
My dad only ever took me hunting ( rabbit and squirrel) or fishing a handful of times. He never showed any interest in deer hunting.  But he was always working, too busy making a living to enjoy life. When he retired I was too busy. I did have my grandfather to take me hunting and fishing. Still miss him and still strive to be like him. I recently started learning the guitar, mostly because of him, he could entertain himself for hours with his guitar. He tried to teach me but I was young and too impatient to learn.
I'm 58 now so he had a lasting impact.

[Bowwild]

Thought provoking post - thanks!

I didn't grow up in deer country. Never saw one until I was 16.

Dad started me squirrel hunting.  I recall trying to walk in  his footsteps at 5-6 years old without breaking sticks.

Dad never bowhunted and he was always amazed when I brought home a deer with my bow. He thought the deer must be "tame" where I hunted (120 miles south of home in Brown County, Indiana).  He's get on the phone to his mom and brothers and let him know, "he did it again".

After big game hunting with a bow squirrel hunting is my favorite.  Dad died 2 months after retiring from the RailRoad (1996) at age 62 (I'm 63).  Squirrel hunting for me is a walk, sit, and staring at hickory trees with memories of Dad keeping me company.

[TRAP]

Those of us that have had family members pass on to us a hunting heritage are truly blessed.

 Hunting, fishing and trapping has been a way of life for me since the beginning and I feel fortunate and very thankful for those that took the time to take a kid outside 50 years ago.

I often wonder how my life would be different if I had been raised around non-outdoorsman.  Probably watch a lot of football on Sundays instead of hanging around in the woods.

The fine men that gave me those experiences are, for the most part, gone now, but I will forever be indebted to their efforts,  their patience and their passion.

Thanks for your post and the reminder to be thankful for who I am and how I got here.

[Mr.Vic]

Thank you for the reply's my friends. They help me  and make me think. As i follow several bow hunting sites and it seems they are filled to the brim with a lot of technical posts and full of opinions on equipment, but rarely life experiences with the bow. I believe there is more about spending time in the woods bow hunting than just the bow or arrow. And to share those experiences helps as much in the spirit of it. I don't know about others but it's those experiences that others share with the bow i can related too, or it helps me see life more clearly at times. Doesn't really matter what we all shoot or how, but what matters in life is the time we spend doing it and sometimes with who. Sharing or passing life experiences in one way with others is just as important, an great lessons. I remember reading a lot of those stories here on Trad gang in the past, but it seems they are few now days. There is a unlimited amount of wealth about enjoying life with the bow to be shared by aged experienced bow hunters on here. That knowledge is highly valuable and needs to be shared with the younger crowds as much or more than what color of bowstring should i use.

[FlintNSteel]

A moving story that makes all of us who were taught hunting by their fathers, or another close relative, reflect on those times.  

At least your father was doing something he loved when passing.  While a loved one's death is never easy, passing with dignity is far preferable to watching your parents rot in a memory care unit seeing everything they were disappear before your eyes.

Mike

[mgf]

My dad never bow hunted or deer hunted but he's the one who started me hunting and fishing. Lots of fishing and small game hunting...mostly rabbits and squirrels. We spent a lot of time hunting and fishing with my uncle and cousins.

I started my son about the same way and now I'm fishing with the grandkids. They're still pretty young but we'll work on the hunting side of things.

[Pine]

I got the news of my dads passing while I was in my deer blind a few years .
Great memories and  God bless . Graps

[Pine]

At the end of the day and the sun settin' low ,
The crusty old man sits with his trusty bow .
With light fading fast and cold settin' in ,
He looks to the sky with a big toothy grin ,
This life it's been hard, with it's ups and it's downs ,
A family that Love's me and friends some were clown's ,
The season is over , and clouds rollin' in ,
His last hunt is finished and comes to an end .
It's time to come home now the Lord says to him .
It's time to come home and to be with your Kin .
So softly he faded with nary a sound ,
His hand and his bow softly fell to the ground .
His last hunt is over , his rest now begins ,
His last hunt is over , Gods love never ends .
 
By Dale Kuder

[Mr.Vic]

Graps, that poem is awesome.    

Originally posted by Mr.Vic:
Graps, that poem is awesome.      

Agreed!

Sorry for your loss, but I'll bet my bottom dollar your dad is sitting up there smiling right now!

Bisch