The bow that I made for my Grandson before his untimely departure hangs in a special place on my wall. Each time I hold the bow in my hand I can almost feel his presence. The pain of loosing him never seems to lessen even though it's been a tad over four years now. Each of us seek healing, and find a measure of release in the best manner that we can. I can sympathize with you in a way that some folks can't. I wish you the best in the making of this bow, for I know what it must mean to you. May God guide your hands Brother.