I found it this year. I went hunting with a lot of emotion. It was the first time ever huntingwithout Dad and it felt different.

I couldn't have cared less if I killed a "big" buck, hell it really didn't matter if I ever seen anything....[&:]. This time last year my dad was too sick to even go and would have done just about anything to just be able to sit in a stand let alone kill anything or anything"big" The time at the camp in the stand is what meant the most and I found it again this year......thank god.

I spent nearly 2.5 weeks through Oct and NOV with my brother hunting, talking, laughing, crying, and getting back what it really means to us to hunt.

He killed a doe, a spike andtwo 4 pointes and I killed a 2 does, a button buck, a spike and a 3 point..................We we able to take his 2 sons for a few days and they had a blast.....one got his first and the oldest killed his "best" to date......an odd racked 6 point.

We had more fun this year than I have had in a long time.......hunting......TOGETHER!..