Some of the Things My Father Taught Me

On a Sunday morning, March 15th of this year, at 3:09am my Father took his last breath and passed away. For 54 days I have struggled with emotions and how to describe my feelings. I've come to the conclusion that it's impossible. Not long ago I read where Ann Coulter shared her feelings when her father and then her mother both passed away. Even for someone like Ann, it was difficult to put into words and even then it falls far short of its intent.

I'm 50 years old, and for as long as I can remember my father has loved to hunt. He bought me my first BB Gun when I was probably 6 or so. The first bird I shot was a BlueJay, it hung on the tree branch refusing to fall. I filled it so full of BB's it finally fell. I believe aided by the sheer weight of the copper in its body. As a young boy in the 1960's with his Daisy "one pump" BB gun in hand, everything was game. A moving leaf became a wild elephant, a butterfly a soaring bird. My father though, was a "Real" hunter. He often came home with Wild Turkeys, Dove, Quail, Deer. Once I grew old enough to safely go with him my world opened up beyond what I could ever have imagined. It would lead into a lifelong love of Nature, wildlife and especially time spent with my father.