Legionnaire
Contributing Member
My father-in-law passed away recently. Here (slightly edited) is the tribute I shared at his funeral service.
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Dad and I talked hunting.
I grew up in the city, and my dad was not a hunter.
So it was not until I married into my wife's family that I was bitten by the hunting bug.
And I tell you, it bit hard.
Dad was responsible for that.
He and I hunted a lot together, annually, often deer hunting in Pennsylvania and in New York.
We hunted squirrels and rabbits ... and the occasional birds.
Dad really enjoyed my new-found interest.
He confided early on that he was a bit intimidated by his over-educated son-in-law.
But in the field, he was the master.
We were hunting rabbits at his nephew's place, and I was fairly new to a shotgun.
I think I must have missed three in fairly short succession.
Then this rabbit took off, and Dad wheeled on it … and BANG!
“I got one! … I got TWO!”
Apparently that rabbit had run right up on another one sitting by the hole, and he rolled them both with one shot!
And I’m like, “That’s it … I quit!”
It was hunting that made us friends.
We swapped hunting stories, magazines, and newspaper articles.
Dad introduced me to the writings of Robert Ruark and Peter Hathaway Capstick.
Years after we started hunting together, Dad asked me,
"Does a day go by when you don't think about deer hunting?"
I thought for a minute and said, "Actually, no …"
He said, "Me either!"
Hunting gave us opportunity to talk about a lot of other things.
We talked about politics, we talked about the church …
Surprisingly not so much about sports; I think it was an Eagles / Steelers thing …
We swapped jokes.
Somebody already mentioned his one-liners.
One of his most memorable was at the dinner table when he said,
“That was so funny I thought my pants would never dry!”
And we talked about family.
I remember him counseling me with regard to raising my children; and with good advice, I might add.
I had thought about giving our son a .22.
Dad said, "Don’t do that. You give him too much already; let him work for it."
Of course, later, Dad gave him a .22 he had cut down to size.
I learned through my relationship with Dad that the commandment,
"Honor your father and your mother" includes your in-laws.
In the deer woods, we tended to be solitary hunters.
We would talk on the way, and we would talk on the way back,
and we would talk when one was helping the other drag a deer out of the woods.
But when we were actually hunting, we were pretty much alone.
When you are alone, and hunting, you have a lot of time to think ...
to reflect, to contemplate, and to pray.
You think over the challenges and blessings of life … it’s a wonderful time.
I think I will miss Dad most, when I am hunting.
===============
Dad and I talked hunting.
I grew up in the city, and my dad was not a hunter.
So it was not until I married into my wife's family that I was bitten by the hunting bug.
And I tell you, it bit hard.
Dad was responsible for that.
He and I hunted a lot together, annually, often deer hunting in Pennsylvania and in New York.
We hunted squirrels and rabbits ... and the occasional birds.
Dad really enjoyed my new-found interest.
He confided early on that he was a bit intimidated by his over-educated son-in-law.
But in the field, he was the master.
We were hunting rabbits at his nephew's place, and I was fairly new to a shotgun.
I think I must have missed three in fairly short succession.
Then this rabbit took off, and Dad wheeled on it … and BANG!
“I got one! … I got TWO!”
Apparently that rabbit had run right up on another one sitting by the hole, and he rolled them both with one shot!
And I’m like, “That’s it … I quit!”
It was hunting that made us friends.
We swapped hunting stories, magazines, and newspaper articles.
Dad introduced me to the writings of Robert Ruark and Peter Hathaway Capstick.
Years after we started hunting together, Dad asked me,
"Does a day go by when you don't think about deer hunting?"
I thought for a minute and said, "Actually, no …"
He said, "Me either!"
Hunting gave us opportunity to talk about a lot of other things.
We talked about politics, we talked about the church …
Surprisingly not so much about sports; I think it was an Eagles / Steelers thing …
We swapped jokes.
Somebody already mentioned his one-liners.
One of his most memorable was at the dinner table when he said,
“That was so funny I thought my pants would never dry!”
And we talked about family.
I remember him counseling me with regard to raising my children; and with good advice, I might add.
I had thought about giving our son a .22.
Dad said, "Don’t do that. You give him too much already; let him work for it."
Of course, later, Dad gave him a .22 he had cut down to size.
I learned through my relationship with Dad that the commandment,
"Honor your father and your mother" includes your in-laws.
In the deer woods, we tended to be solitary hunters.
We would talk on the way, and we would talk on the way back,
and we would talk when one was helping the other drag a deer out of the woods.
But when we were actually hunting, we were pretty much alone.
When you are alone, and hunting, you have a lot of time to think ...
to reflect, to contemplate, and to pray.
You think over the challenges and blessings of life … it’s a wonderful time.
I think I will miss Dad most, when I am hunting.
