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| (My Dad’s most faithful fishing buddy, TANK the minpin.) |
We all have a story to tell. I am working so hard at learning to REALLY listen to others and their story. I am also learning to share mine when asked. My kids are dragging it out of me bit by bit. Often at bed time they ask me to tell them about ‘where I come from’.
Bless their little hearts, they know I enjoy sharing crazy stories once I get into it. I try to not brush the requests off so much, as they get great joy out of what to them seems like another world… that other world being my upbringing. They are prairie born city kids and I was a northern bush born farm kid. We eventually had a phone and most modern utilities; but for the first few years of my life we had no plumbing, no electricity, no phone, wood heat and a goat/rabbit/chicken/little bit of everything else farm, by a lake, with limited road access and lotsa bedrock and bush to play on.
I think I will start sharing a few of the stories I remember on here too.
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| (THE dog and THE Dad that took me hunting.) |
Chicken hunting brought Dad and me together. Wild chickens, spruce hens and the like, are not very clever and oh so taste-y. Dad, Mel (the English lab) and I would camo up and hit the trails on a weekend. Tags and shot guns in hand we would travel sandy roads through the bush till we found the prey. We shared the shooting and often the boys (my brothers) where along too. Mel would point and retrieve and we all enjoyed it a great deal. The snacks where good and the conversation better.
The night we where heading home and he took my hand while I poured my heart out about how hard high school was for me I will never forget. We had just finished a day of hunting. It had been very joyful but my heart was heavy at the idea of school the next day. I got very quiet going home, so he asked me about it, and with tears I poured out my heart. I don’t know what negative pressures I would have given into during those three nasty years, if it wasn’t for the reliable support I got from my folks. With patience he offered encouragement, support and a willingly present listening ear.
Dad always had time for us. If we where willing to strap on the grubs (rough clothing) and go fishing, hunting or just lumbering through the bush with him he was very very available.
I tell my kids this story to encourage them to find something, anything, like bird hunting was for me, as a way to make the time to talk with their Dad and to BE with their Dad often. It takes two to make it work. Dad was available and I was not shy about taking him up on it.
TTFN
