For many years my father has hunted far and away places. He spoke to me often of doing the same myself as the trips make lifetime memories. Over the years raising a family, lack of funds, and not enough vacation time prevented me from going. This year I finally decided to book a trip because in my father's words "Son, life is short and you're not getting any younger - do it while you can."
And so I made arrangements for a hunt in Wyoming. I spoke to my father on the eve of departure. He was excited for me and wished me the best of luck, although being a rifleman he didn't quite understand how the economics and travel justified chasing critters with stick and string
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I arrived in Casper and had an urgent voicemail to call home. My father had suddenly passed away during my travel. Reflecting on our past conversations I decided to continue the hunt in his honor. I believe he would have wanted that. Final arrangements were planned that allowed me to finish the hunt.
His passing weighed heavily on me but strangely I could not bare my soul to the grief. As I sat waiting for antelope to appear at the waterhole I realized the parallels between our lives. My fathers first adventure hunt was to Wyoming for antelope when he was about the same age I am now.
He must have been watching over me because I did harvest a fine animal. The moment was very emotional for me and all the bottled up grief finally surfaced. It was as though my Dad had a mission for me and our spirits connected over the harvest.
Dad, you will always be there with me as I roam in the pursuit of the hunt.
Dad, this one is for you.........
Topic: A Bittersweet Trophy (Read 4749 times)
