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Thread: Seasons Change....Memories Are Forever

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    Default Seasons Change....Memories Are Forever

    Seasons Change...... Memories are Forever

    By: Len Harris

    Dad left Wednesday night. He drove up to his
    brother's to deer hunt. I watched him leave. It was
    almost painful watching his yellow van pull out of the
    driveway. I wanted to go so badly. I was old enough
    to do ALL of the others hunting and fishing things
    with him. But....NOT rifle deer hunt.

    The phone rang.We were all sitting around the
    television watching the Packers play the Lions on
    Turkey Day. I flew to the phone. It was my dad. He
    told me he would be home late that evening. I asked
    him how he did. He told me a doe and a big buck. Mom
    took the phone and told Dad that I was driving her
    crazy talking about deer hunting. She hung up and said
    to the family that dad would be home late that
    evening.

    I asked my mom if I could put my new deer hunting
    coat on and wait for my dad outside. The coat was
    still in the box. It was a wool black and red plaid
    deer hunting coat. She told me not to put it on right
    away. So i waited about 2 minutes and put it on. I
    took my 5 gallon bucket and went out to the end of the
    driveway. After about 3 hours my mother called out to
    me and told me to come inside.

    I was really mad. I wanted to show my mother I
    WASN'T too little to deer hunt. I wanted her to tell
    Dad that I had set on that bucket for hours completely
    still. "Just like a good buck hunter." I always
    listened to my mom. I went to the porch with my
    bucket.
    It wasn't much longer and dad rolled into the
    drive. I sprinted to the end of the driveway. My dad
    had a huge smile when he saw me. Me in my miniature
    deer hunting coat. He had not seen it before then.Mom
    told him she bought it for me as an early xmas
    present..

    We all helped my dad take the deer off the roof.I
    heard my mom and dad talking. Dad asked mom why she
    bought that coat for me. Mom said I was so
    disappointed that I couldn't go. She had to do something
    to ease my pain. Dad said "That will only fan his
    flames, He is still too young to go."
    I made my dad tell me the complete story of both
    deers he had gotten. Complete with the way the winds
    were coming from and the weather. I wanted to know even
    the littlest details...So I could feel like I was
    there.

    Sunday morning came and Dad and I got up early
    and went to the Gas Station to swap lies with all the
    other hunters. I wore my new deer hunter's coat.
    All the locals were there. Each hunter shared their
    hunting stories.I was my dad's turn to tell his story.
    Dad started out the story slowly. He hestiated between
    sentences and i couldn't help it. I finished his
    sentence for him. ALL the locals roared in laughter.
    They knew I had not gone along and I knew the story by
    heart in only 4 days.

    The harsh winter came to visit and seemed to last
    forever. My dad and I spent time on the Mississippi
    ice fishing to pass the cold Wisconsin months. I
    really liked being alone with him. One on one time
    with my dad. I did not have to share him with my
    sisters.

    Spring came and this meant many different outdoor
    activities with my dad. Just him and I. Bird hunting
    and fishing were the norm every weekend.
    The winds became cold and my dad was getting the
    deer hunting itch again. I was angry. I knew there was
    ONLY one more year.......One more year of waiting at
    the end of the driveway for my dad.

    . My dad loaded up the van again and left at dusk on
    Wednesday night.As my dad left, he rolled down the
    window of the van. He said "Next year you will be
    going along with me." My mom waved bye to my dad and
    told me NO waiting in the driveway this year. I could
    wait on the porch.

    Thursday came and no call from dad. I went out onto
    the porch to sit. I decided to raise all of my dad's
    deer horns up to the top of the porch. I left the row
    of nails below his horns. That row was going to be
    where ALL my horns were going to hang.
    Friday came and again no call. I went back out to
    the porch. I organized all the ice fishing gear. Put
    new line on the jig poles and took all the mono out of
    the eyes of the jigs in the jig boxes.

    Saturday night I organized my shelves on the porch.
    All of my firsts with my dad. There were tail feathers
    of the first three ducks i shot. My first pheasant's
    tail feather. Then there was my favorite..My grouse
    tail........ Those dang things were so hard to hit.
    The rest of the things organized were 2 squirrel tails
    and a red and white daredevil and my Mepps spinner
    from my first trout. Each had special memories from
    dad and me.

    Sunday night I saw light at the end of the
    driveway. I grabbed my deer hunting coat and went out
    to meet my dad. I was my dad's yellow van. I went to
    the driver's door. It wasn't my dad driving. It was my
    uncle Dudely. I asked where my dad was. He didn't
    speak. He got out of the van and went into the house.
    My mother and uncle walked into another room and
    closed the door. I t seemed like they wee in there
    forever. There was a knock on the door.

    It was was my 2 uncles. My mother's brothers. They
    also went into the room with Uncle Dudley and mom. All
    the adults came out of the room and mom called us all
    to the kitchen table.

    She had us all sit down. She started to cry. All my
    uncles consoled her. My Uncle Dudley told us that my
    dad was hunting with him and dad got a big buck. They
    were dragging the deer out of the woods and my dad
    suffered a heart attack and died.

    Mothers and fathers please take your children
    outdoors. Show them the wonders of nature. Get them
    out from in front of the television and video
    games........ Please?

    Last edited by spinner1; 11-15-2010 at 04:28 PM.
    When you arise in the morning, think of what a
    precious privilege it is to be alive - to breathe, to think,
    to enjoy, to love.
    - Marcus Aurelius

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