LEGACY

My father died a year ago on this date.

I am not even sure where that year went. I did go hunting a few times. I even took my kids hunting. I will never forget the first time my daughter shot at a turkey with her bow. That happened this past year. But I did not get to share that story with my dad. What I do get to do is carry on something he shared with me. He shared his favorite things with me. He loved hunting, fishing and the outdoors and he understood that sharing those things with his family would teach them that the memories we create stay with us for eternity. He was a man determined to create good memories—not necessarily for himself, but for those he loved most. I realize now that by pursuing that for others, he gained so much for himself.

My daughter’s first hunting experience was not like my first goose hunt in any way except that she experienced it with her dad. I hope, some day, when I can no longer go with her into the woods that she will remember fondly a day which means more to me than all my individual hunting pursuits combined. I hope she will understand that there was a man who wanted to take her turkey hunting and who wanted to share his love of the outdoors with her simply because he loved her.

I understand now why my dad took me hunting. I understand why he taught me to push myself. I understand why he sometimes had to discipline me. I understand that it was all because he loved me. I should have given him more credit for that.

I told my father on his death bed that I would honor him by the way I lived my life. A year has passed since I made that pledge and I have failed to live many of those days with the honor his legacy demands. God tells us to honor our parents. I believe we do that best by honoring Him. I believe if we do that best, not by what we say, but by how we live. I believe we do that best by sharing ourselves and our love with others. I pray I can better emulate my dad during the next year.

Aim True.

HUNTING CAMPS

There was a world out there beyond the campfire, but we could not see it. And I am not sure we even cared. We had spent the day climbing hills and glassing across valleys. We had left our sweat on the dewy grass with our deep desire to return the next day. That world out there truly mattered, but as we sat around the fire I began to realize how much its glow revealed. Beneath the laughter and the plans for the next day, I think we all, at least in some small way, understood each other. In my companion's eyes, in the way they stared into the warming embrace of something both comforting and destructive, I could almost see a reflection of myself.

Darkness is not nearly as spooky when pierced by a campfire. And nothing seems to calm unseen shadows the way a campfire does. A campfire is the heart of a hunting camp.

And hunting camps begin to feel like home in short order. You give effort during the days that you often did not know you could give. You form bonds with people that hold tight through time and distance. You grow closer to your loved ones without having to share a word. A hunting camp is a place where relationships flourish. Your relationships with new friends, with old friends, with family, with the outdoors, with yourself, and your relationship with God all tend to reach new levels of intimacy in a hunting camp.

A hunting camp does not promise success or even adventure, but it gives us hope for those things--it give us a chance to experience the quiet satisfaction of simply being in the moment. And isn’t that what keeps us coming back time after time--a chance? A chance to see the sun rise. A chance that a deer may step into the open and stand still just long enough to offer you that shot that will end the hunt. A chance that even if a beast does not fall, we will have the campfire and we will relive the day in our memories and our stories for years to come. Chances like that rarely happen by accident—they must be worked for, reached for, and they require action. It is not easy, but it reminds us that we can find peace in the simple things..

I guess that’s where all of life’s greatest joys can be found—in its simplicities. Relationships, hunting, fishing, campfires, the sound of a river—these are the things that help to give our lives meaning. If we take a moment to stop and reflect during these simple moments, we just might understand how beautiful it all is and if we look back with clear eyes we might just understand that even the hard times, even the low points, turned out to be blessings we could not see at the time.

So when I next have the great pleasure to stare into a campfire at the end of a long day of hunting, I hope I take a moment to reflect on how blessed I have been to have spent time in hunting camps.