Two Bucks, Dad, and I were in the woods one day......

Today we put my father in his final resting place. He is in a veterans cemetery in Winchendon. The service was short. Just the immediate family attended. Ryan made it from New Hampshire. He presented Maria with Dads flag. I thought that during "Taps" or the twenty one gun salute I would break down into a blubbering puddle of emotional goo but it never came to pass. The last time I remember hearing taps at a funeral was when my Dads father passed. I remember I hadn't felt a thing until "Taps" was played and the twenty one gun salute.

I had never met the man, my fathers father but once, for a few minutes. I had no emotional connection to him. But as soon as my young ears heard the report from the first volley I emotionally exploded. I remember walking hurriedly away from the service beside the burial site, eyes blurry with tears, gulping air between gut heaving sobs, and not having a clue as to why. I felt my father grab my shoulder from behind and draw me to his chest, tears in his eyes. It was then I knew why I was crying. Years of pent up sadness and yearning finally bubbling up from my soul and being let loose. I missed him, my father.

I miss him now.

I think maybe on that day I cried for today as well.

Still, the show must go on and so it will.

After the service I brought the wife home grabbed my gear and headed out to Wachusett Reservoir. As I walked my mind was at ease. On occasion I would speak to my father. No voices answered. No whispers in the wind. I didn't expect there to be any. After about forty five minutes of walking I reached my destination, or so I thought. I was disappointed. Logging had been done in the area and the scene I was looking for was not there. I kept walking and searching every once in a while asking Dad to show me something. Not a sign, or a miracle, but something to take a frikking picture of. I found a few things, nothing major. Finally I decided to head back.

I made my way to a point where the path splits and one circles around the hill to the east instead of climbing the hill next to the reservoir. I took the eastern path to see what there was to see. I kept side tracking other paths until I was in unfamiliar territory. I pushed ahead knowing that the power lines were on my left and the water to my right.

I took one trail that lead me to the top of a huge hill. I looked down and saw a stream and headed for it. On my way to it I ran into thorn bushes, cutting up my bare legs. I didn't care. I was in the woods, comfortable, alone with my thoughts and my camera. A little blood and pain to keep the head on planet Earth was part of the game. As I neared the stream, crashing through underbrush I saw something I did not expect. Two bucks. One was at least six points. The other was massive. At least 10 points. For an instant nothing happened. Both parties stunned that the two bucks didnt not notice a 270 + oaf crashing and cursing to within 30 feet of them.
(NOTE: I hope these two dopes get their crap together before hunting season or they are destined to be venison stew and hanging on someones wall in a month.)
After a second or two the smaller buck jumped the stream and headed up the hill on the other side. The big buck snorted once, and bounded after it. They both paused at the top of the hill, looking back, then moving out of sight.

I didn't have my camera ready, and to be honest I didn't care. It was a good moment not ruined trying to compose it through a lens. One for me and me alone I guess.

Hi Dad!

Was it him or sent by him? I don't know. But it made me think of him and smile.
Thats good enough.

Like my father-in-law said: "There wont be a day that goes by you wont think of him."

He's right.