Am I gonna get like that?

[nighthunter]

I phoned my 79 year old father tonight to see if he wanted to go hunting in the morning. Pa. holds a special season for antlerless deer for senior hunters every year. He is eligible to go. It was one of the most difficult phone conversations I have ever had. This is the same guy that taught me to shoot and how to hunt. He taught me the ethics of both. We had a lot of trouble setting a time for me pick him up in the morning and trouble picking a place to go. I finally just told him that I would pick him up a 8 AM and we would find a place to hunt. My mother will make sure he is ready to go when I get there.
Guns, shooting and hunting have been my downfall since I was 8 years old. If this is what I have to look forward to in the golden years I don't think I want to make it that far. I guess most of us have to go through this situation or similar and our children will have to go through it when we get like this.
I guess I'm just venting. I remember when I couldn't wait to be 12 years old to get my first hunting license ...... then it was waiting to be 16 to get my drivers license ........ then it was 21 to be able to do whatever adults do. I'm 55 now and I don't even know what I want to be when I grow up.
Nighthunter

[tommag]

I tried to read this post to my wife but couldn't finish it out loud.

When my dad was in his 80's, he had to go into a rest home. I came to visit him and he pleaded with me to "Take me with you, Tommy. I won't get in your way" Not much of a way to live, in an 18 wheeler. He was convinced that Mom was having an afair and that was why he was in the rest home. Truth is, he was powerful-strong and when he got a funny idea in his head, he was uncontrollable. Boy, how that broke my heart. Still does, when I think about it. I sure miss him!
I suppose most of us will get like that, just remember, the Lord does all things for good, even if we can't see the good.
Have patience with him and enjoy his companay as much as you can.

[ron brooks]

I'm 55 now and I don't even know what I want to be when I grow up.


Sure you do. You want to hunt and shoot, or maybe shoot and hunt. Enjoy it now, for perhaps, and only perhaps, you may not be able to alter. It's why I am going to retire when I am 62. I am not going to take the chance that I ay have waited to long.

Gather ye rose buds while you may.

You have my heartfelt sympathy,

Ron

[kodiak1]

Here is another angle to your dilema I am 50 I always wonder what it would of or could have been like to have my Dad the last 30 some years.
I was brought up the same way, I think I was born with a 22 in my hands and a fishing rod not far away. My dad taught and I ate it up then he was gone.
Ken.

[9.3X62AL]

A variety of thoughts for me are prompted by these posts.

I retired a little over a year ago, and have a disability that compromises my mobility to some degree. This mobility issue varies from day to day, and is unpredictable. Monday's hunt was very difficult for me, and I fell while walking several times. The next day at the Burrito Shoot--I was pretty strong. Today, I went out again and logged a couple miles on foot in steeper country than Monday's struggle occurred in, and although I'm kinda tuckered out--I'm glad I was able to take those steps, and to see the muley doe and fawn-of-the-year I saw during that time.

From the standpoint of someone whose mobility isn't what it once was, it is very difficult to accept these limitations, and to know that your physical abilities may prevent a fellow hunter from full enjoyment of the time afield. It's not a thing I want to inflict on another hunter, and pride gets in the way of saying it in so many words.

The back edge of that sword is the inspiration part, provided by my Dad. He and I fished and hunted from the time I was old enough to cast a spinning rig, and this remained a constant throughout my life into adulthood. He retired even younger than I did, dealing with searing, constant back pain and a series of cancers for the rest of his life. Just the same--he always found time to fish and hunt, with me and with my daughters and nephews/his grandkids. Even as ill as he was, he agreed to a late season dove hunt in December 1993, at the San Jacinto Wildlife Area. It was a cold, windy morning that didn't promise much in the way of doves--but I hoped to flush some quail, or maybe some of the pen-raised chukars that the field trial folks released a few days earlier on the adjacent fields. Only one bird was seen that day--a mourning dove that whisked past us with the wind as we neared the truck at the end of the last pass through the field--Dad was about done. Just the same, the Model 12 came up like lightning--spoke once--and the dove fell, like I had seen happen so many times in the past. Dad hadn't smiled much lately, but he was beaming as he walked over to retrieve the bird.

He died in August 1994.

Take him hunting. Go fishing, too. That smile keeps my feet moving when it would be easier to just stay home, and you never know when the trip you're on could be his or your last one. I cannot help but believe that your Dad said "THANK YOU" from the bottom of his heart, regardless of his physical limitations.

[drinks]

I pulled the plug at 62, planning on a lot of things, 2 months later, I destroyed the left rotator cuff, operation and 5 months rehab.
Started on vioxx for persistent pain, after 2 years, when they withdrew vioxx, my breathing capacity was at 25% and I was in severe pain in legs and hands, a week off vioxx and the pains almost stopped, now an aspirin a day is all I take, but the breathing capacity is only back to 50%.
Then last year. I tried to show some teenagers I could still swing a machete and managed to tear my right bicep, now both arms are messed up. my retirement is not working out as I had hoped, fishing and shooting are still possible, but still hunting is a poor choice for me now, about all I can manage is stand or blind.
Have all the fun you can, while you can!

[versifier]

Grampy made it almost to 102. He liked to shoot revolvers. Sooner or later we all have to confront our own mortality and that of those we love. Carpe diem!

Clipper Home

In your eyes,
when the light is right
I see the very limited number
of tomorrows you look forward to
from your wheelchair….
most days you know me -
call me by my own name
and not my brother’s,
some days you do not:
we laugh together only on the best days
and you tell stories
or what you can remember of them,
but the good days are less frequent now,
on the bad days you cry
and ask the same questions
over and over again
then fall asleep in mid-sentence
before I can answer,
so I leave you snoring softly
and stop to talk with the nurses
at the desk
on my way out.

Copyright 2004 TJDiegoli
Originally published in the chapbook “Interface”

[Char-Gar]

When we start, life rewards us with new things as we go. We can talk, walk, ride a bike, drive a car, own a home, take a trip etc. etc. etc.

We reach a point when life starts to take those things back one at a time. We can't drive, we can't walk as good, we can't hear as good, we can't see as good, etc. etc. etc.

Aging is the process of experiencing profound and progressive loss. It is not for the weak!!!

[BD]

We are all going there.

BD

[NVcurmudgeon]

My father was lucky to have good health up to age 75. I was blessed to enjoy his company; fishing often, and bird hunting occasionally. At about 75 he had a stroke and went into a fairly fast mental decline. After a couple of years he no longer had a clue who I was, and had a vague idea that he knew my brother, but not who he was. His doctor recommended that we no longer visit, because he would want to leave wth us, not knowing who we were, or where he wanted to go. He didn't last very long after that. Point is, you just don't know, so don't pass up a chance to share a good day with the old folks. Maybe your kids will learn from how you act, and make your golden years truly golden.

[krag35]

thanks fellers, I need to go call my Dad.
krag35

[454PB]

The heaviest grief I've ever suffered was standing next to my dad's bed at the end of his long battle with Alzheimers, while he wore a feeding tube and could no longer talk or even recognize me. I too had spent all my life hunting, fishing, camping, and working with him. My mother had died in a nursing home about 2 years before he did, both of them had used up all their resources during their decline.

I decided to retire at 55, which I did. Yes, I have less money than I could have had if I worked longer, but what good is money without your health and mind?

Yes, please call your dad......and your mom.

[Wayne Smith]

I spent my growing up years on farms with a dad who hunted out of necessity, to kill the deer eating his beans. They'll strip a field. Hunting wasn't something special, just work. Then we moved to VA, on a farm but in the suburbs. I still shot the .22's, but hunting other than woodchucks and quail wasn't there. Years later Mom accused dad of 'hunting' as an excuse to go into the woods and watch the deer! They were living in the Virginia mountians then, and deer were all around. He'd usually shoot one a year, but go 'hunting' all season.

He gradually declined physically until he was on O2 24/7 but his mind was always right there. Up until the morning he died he was mentally active and talking. The morning he died my stepmom said that "he looked at me, he smiled, and he died" knowing my brother and I were in town to be with her.

I lost my mom early, my dad late. He was 81, but hadn't been able to get out and walk much for the last three years. My wife and I are now the next generation to go, having buried all our parents.

[1Shirt]

I well remember the last time I hunted with my grandfather. I was 17, and he was dying of TB, had trouble eating, but was still pushing himself. It was phesant season, and he wanted to go out. We had not been in the field more than 15 minutes, when a big rooster came up between us, and I waited for him to shoot when he yelled for me to shoot, and I dropped the bird. I went and picked it up and came back to my grandfather who stood there with gun in hand, tears in his eyes. He said he heard the bird come up, raised his gun, but couldn't see it, and told me to shoot. He said he guessed it was time to die when you no longer could see to hunt or shoot. That has always stuck with me. I can't say as I approach 70 that I could disagree with my grandfather.
1Shirt!:coffee:

[shooter2]

My dad died at the age of 50. I was just 11 years old so I really never got the chance to know him. This was just after WWII and those that were not still serving, were working. We never hunted or fished together. These I picked up on my own. Now I am 70 and trying to take advantage of every opportunity to enjoy my kids and grandkids. JMHO, but I would take every chance you get to enjoy the short time we have together.

[twotoescharlie]

we are all here just temporarily, take advantage of it.

TTC

[walltube]

Mother is 92 years. Other than macular degeneration robbing her of eyesight and a few short term memory issues, she is a marvel of durability. My first lesson with life's fraility was when mother got that early morning phone call from the State Police that her husband, my Dad, had been killed in an automobile collision. Little did the 9 year old kid living in SW Minnesota that frozen February morning of 1947 dream of the changes that awaited him. Mother made her way back South with my 2 yr. old sister and me.

The Pearl River Delta of SW Mississippi is a far cry from SW Minnesota. What a culture shock! My maternal grandfather and uncles took me under their respective wings and into the great Honey Island Swamp of Hancock County, MS. These men hunted, trapped and fished for sustenance as well for the $$$. The ethic was "..if you kill it, make sure you are going to eat it or sell it..". Lawfully.

A gut shot deer or feral hog was a disgrace. A lie may be forgiven but not forgotten. If you did miss or wound with a sloppy shot, own up to it. You were expected to track it down and put the animal out of its' misery and torment. I quickly learned to be a marksman or pass on the shot. To shoot straight and to tell the truth was impressed upon me way before the good Col. Cooper wrote his book.

My mentors are now all long gone. I still miss them.

Hoping to not have been too much of a bore,
Y.T.,

W'tube

[eveready]

Enjoy your life as long as you can. Remember that you can always make more money but once you spend your time it is gone forever.
Eveready

[Poygan]

Walltube,
My mom is 95, also has macular degeneration, and still lives in her own home, since 1949. My dad passed away in 1980. Until she lost her eyesight about five years or so ago, she was still driving, had a large garden and lots of flowers, and did her lawn (four lots) on her old John Deere.
Her forgetfulness really accelerated with the loss of her central vision. I talked to her physician of many years last spring, thinking he might suggest it was time to move her. Understand she has always been adamant about staying in her home. He surprised me by stating very strongly to leave her in her home! I have a lady clean for her and another lady that comes in Mon - Fri to check on her and lay out her meds. She also gets meals on wheels Mon - Fri. I get out there weekly and bring food and snacks for the weekend. Her 90 pound dog finally passed away about two months ago.
It is difficult to watch someone who was so vital and independent deteriorate to this degree. Yet physically, she is healthy. So, I will do my best to keep her in her beloved home as long as I possibly can.
My dad's siblings got into their high eighties to low nineties so I may be in this for the long haul....

[wills]

Aricept will slow or halt memory loss.

[Topper]

Lost my Dad in Oct of 87. Lots of weekends and vactiions spent hunting, fishing, and camping all through my youth. Last year of his life he just didn't have the strength to even go bank fishing, so we'd just sit and visit, or he would supervise repairs I did for him around the house.
I still miss him.

[Lee]

Beyond this vale of tears,
There is a life above,
Unmeasured by the flight of years,
And all that life is love.

ANY of you , have a parent to say something to, do it now.
Regrets are nothing when they are gone.
And when you've lost your parents, you'll never be alone again....
I have to go now, eyes watery, throat hurts like hell................................Lee:neutral: