Seasons Change....Memories Are Forever.

LenHarris

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 badily. 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 huting 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 ot 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 minature 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 somethingto ease my pain. Dad said "That will only fan hisflames, 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 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 infront of the television and video games........ Please?


Written By: Len Harris

pullandbang

Wow, what can I say to that. Beautiful story Len and very moving. I was almost there on the bucket with you!

Reminds me a little of the Harry Chapin song, Cats in the Cradle.

"When you coming home, dad?" "I don't know when,
But we'll get together then.
You know we'll have a good time then."

By the way, great looking river and a fine fish in the second pic.:cool:

Auldloon

Good to see you here Len and another great if somewhat sad story.

bitemybanger

Thanks for sharing your story Len.
Its threads like this that make logging on worthwhile and is a very welcome break from some of the crap on here recently.

meathstevie

That's exactly the reason why my 3 year old little lad went out shooting crows with me last week. Accompanied by his nearly 5 year old brother.
Granted, they can be a bit troublesome sometimes and you'll be watching them more than anything else to make sure they're allright but feck it. You only live once.

mallards

Quality story Len. It was a great but sad read. Thanks again and your right take a young person hunting!

Mallards.

John Griffin

A very inspiring and emotional story, thanks for telling it Len, reminds me of my childhood but thankfully my dad is still hunting with me and now i hunt with my son. Most recent account below

Took my 5 year old son out after rabbits for the 4th time the other day, hoping to finally get a shot at one and finally get our first rabbit together. Last 3 attempts had been a disaster, he came back head to toe in mud, i was a frustrated wreak and busted from carrying him cos he was tired. But this time after frightening every rabbit in the parish we finally found a really unlucky suicidal big buck rabbit. He jumped out of the hedge about 50yrds away and just sat there, my son was coming on behind me trashing the hedge with a stick that he had just picked up, I got down on one knee and he shouts at me "what are you doing daddy"? I put my lip to my finger and went "ssshhh" and tried to get him to come over to me. Eventually he made it to my side and i tried to point out this daft rabbit to him, when he saw it he got all excited and kept telling me to shoot it, shoot it Daddy as i lined it up in the scope, I fired and hit it in the head and the rabbit bucked into the air and fell dead. My son shouted out "Wow that was so cool Daddy, Can i get him?" I said go ahead and off he charged in the direction of the rabbit falling at least twice on the way:). He picked it up and he went quiet. Next he said "Daddy he looks like Tommy" (his pet rabbit, oh sh!t!) I explained that this was not like Tommy and that it was a wild rabbit and that we were going to eat it like we eat chicken and burgers and that we would never eat Tommy or any pet rabbits. All seemed fine and he wanted to carry it back so i left him. I started walking and he was behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw him holding the rabbit like he does Tommy and then i saw his head drop and his lip start to quivver. Then it happened, he broke down crying. I never felt so guilty in all my life, i was nearly crying myself, i thought about never shooting another rabbit again and i hugged him with the rabbit between us. I sat him on my knee and we talked about it some more. Then he said "i understand now Daddy, but now we need to shoot another one". On the way back a Grey Crow flew off a tree and landed in front of us, it was injured and couldn't fly far. I put the rifle to the shoulder and finished it off, he asked if he could get it and i took the rabbit. He picked it up and came back to me and said, can we eat him Daddy? I said no that they are not very nice but we would leave him for the fox, so he carefully placed it in the hedge for the fox. We made our way back to the car with no more excitement other than i ended up carrying the rabbit and my son over the last 200 yds. He hasn't stopped talking about it since.:) I wonder if he'll remember it when he is my age, the same way as i remember the first time i saw my dad shooting a rabbit.