I'm just curious if anybody here does anything special to honor a lost hunting buddy? My father, who I always called Pop was not only my hunting and fishing buddy but also the buddy of his other son, 3 grandsons, 4 nephews and about 30 friends. Everyone wanted to go into the fields with him. He was by my side when I shot my first mule deer buck at the age of 9. He was at my side when I shot my first bull elk at the age of 15. he was with me when I got my first antelope, my first black bear, my first duck, my first goose, my first pheasant etc... He was my hunting buddy and the best all around hunter and fisherman I ever met.
I lost him in 2013 to lung cancer. I was on a combat deployment to the Middle East and when I got word he was failing fast I tried to get back stateside. I didn't make it. He died while I was in London waiting for a connecting flight to NYC and then to Denver. That was a heart breaker far from home. When I got to my mother's house there was a sealed envelope addressed to me in my father's handwriting. Call it a voice from the grave.
In the envelope was my father's last request of me, his younger son. Pop knew he would be cremated and he asked that I take a portion of his ashes and place them in locations where he hunted, fished and that were important to him. If my memory serves me correctly there were 11 locations and he wanted a 12th portion tossed into the wind out on the prairies of Eastern CO so he could go where nature wanted him. Since I was still active duty it took some time but I placed him where he wanted to be.
My father rests in his favorite duck slough, his favorite trout steam, his favorite spot for pass shooting geese, in good deer country, on a crossing he liked to wait for pronghorn to come by, at elk camp, on the African Plains, in the Gulf of Mexico and a few secret places like where he asked my mother to marry him and in the landscaping of the hospital where all 3 of his kids were born. As hard as it was to sift through his ashes, I honored his request.
Then I did something for myself, my brother and his grandsons. Pop always shot a 7mm Rem Mag he got the year I was born, 1963. I now have the rifle and it is fully retired. As a handloader he always kept brass and I found a box of brass he hadn't worked on. I took some of the brass and had his initials engraved in the casings and when I got them back I set up his loading press and neck sized them. Then I filled the primer pockets with epoxy and let it dry. When it was dry I filled the casing with some of Pop's ashes and seated a Nosler Partion (Pop's favorite bullet) in the case. I put a small eye bolt in the hardened epoxy and strung them on a leather thong I cut from a deer skin Pop had had tanned into leather. I kept 2 for myself and gave 2 to my brother and 1 each to the grandsons.
I placed one of the casings in each of the trucks I drive on a consistent basis. When I go hunting or fishing I slip it around my neck and take Pop with me. He was with me when I took my first deer and he will be with me on the day I take my last. Two days ago Pop and I took a limit of rainbow trout from a pond down the road from where I now live. That, my internet friends, is how I chose to honor him and I honor him again here by introducing you all to the best hunter I ever knew.
This is Pop with his last deer, taken with me at his side right at sunset in Okaloosa County FL in 2009 just 3 months before he first got diagnosed with cancer. Happy Trails Pop, someday we'll hunt together again.
