I guess I am one of the lucky ones, in many ways. I still have my father, and am still able to make memories with him. Today I told him that I wanted to take him out to dinner, my treat anywhere he wanted to go. So what does he say? A&W has 99 cent Papa burgers. I say dad, you can go anywhere, how about Luckys, a nice steakhouse. He says, I want a Papaburger and rootbeer, so that is where we went.
Dad alwas had time for father son things, even when him and mom were having their problems. He took me hunting with him from the time I was born basically. I know there were a number of times he lost game because of me. I have not missed at least one weeks hunting with him in 50 years (usually more), since I was 6 months old.
I have sat and swapped stories with him around the campfire more times than anyone else I know with his father. Hell, I am probably the only person who knows where the crescent shaped scar on his chest came from. A knife fight in a bar in the Navy where he only brought his fists. I was that close to not being
He worked 2 jobs as long as I can remember, at a factory and a school bus driver, and he coached my Little League baseball teams and hockey teams. I do not think I have ever had a project at home he has not popped over to help with.
He went through scouts with me, I have canoed, camped in 100 degree heat in the desert, and camped in -30 in the winter with him. We spent one week in bow season camping in the back of a pickup in driving rain where we were not dry one minute the whole week, and could not even have a warm meal because it rained so hard.
Some of the best meals I have ever eaten were like today, eating Papaburgers, or over a tin of Spam, a bottle of mustard and a loaf of bread off the tailgate of my pickup 5 miles back in the woods in a driving snow storm in muzzleloading season.
Great memories, yep, I am one of the lucky ones.
I tip my hunting Fedora and say, Happy Fathers day to all you men who know of what I speak. You are the Fathers of the world, the makers of men.
Dad alwas had time for father son things, even when him and mom were having their problems. He took me hunting with him from the time I was born basically. I know there were a number of times he lost game because of me. I have not missed at least one weeks hunting with him in 50 years (usually more), since I was 6 months old.
I have sat and swapped stories with him around the campfire more times than anyone else I know with his father. Hell, I am probably the only person who knows where the crescent shaped scar on his chest came from. A knife fight in a bar in the Navy where he only brought his fists. I was that close to not being
He worked 2 jobs as long as I can remember, at a factory and a school bus driver, and he coached my Little League baseball teams and hockey teams. I do not think I have ever had a project at home he has not popped over to help with.
He went through scouts with me, I have canoed, camped in 100 degree heat in the desert, and camped in -30 in the winter with him. We spent one week in bow season camping in the back of a pickup in driving rain where we were not dry one minute the whole week, and could not even have a warm meal because it rained so hard.
Some of the best meals I have ever eaten were like today, eating Papaburgers, or over a tin of Spam, a bottle of mustard and a loaf of bread off the tailgate of my pickup 5 miles back in the woods in a driving snow storm in muzzleloading season.
Great memories, yep, I am one of the lucky ones.
I tip my hunting Fedora and say, Happy Fathers day to all you men who know of what I speak. You are the Fathers of the world, the makers of men.
