Hey Mr. Swampy, thanks for posting this.
My Dad was not a hunter but I was the only Grandson of a very avid outdoorsman.
I have memories of him carrying me up a muddy bank in New York while squirrel hunting when I was about 4 years old. The old man and I would camp on the New River in WV after he retired and catch cat fish. When I was still in school, I would go to visit in the summer and we would cut fire wood for deer season at the old family farm.
We deer hunted together every year either in NY or WV.
He passed in October of 2000 and I actually quit hunting for a few years.
But now, when I head out to the woods, I somehow know he is with me. Soon enough, my son will be sitting next to me in the stand making a new life time of memories. I know the old man would have been proud of the seven pointer I shot last night..
I don't have the words to express how I miss him, I just don't...