I believe every father who reads your post is smiling.
Because, at some point in our lives, we all begin to wonder how we'll be remembered.
That's a wonderful tribute. We should all be so lucky, as to be remember so well.
I had to learn banjo. TX
Don't let your sheepfucking ruin the best imaginary relationships you're ever gonna have.-Befuddled
Red has enough good karma in storage that he could start an online business selling it to the world's assholes. Rancho Pancho
if the trip kills you, you won't live to regret it. JT
To date I've received NO envelopes. Zero, zip, zilch.
You guys are the worst.
This song was my request for his funeral.
The first week of June I drove north and east, to the camp we've spent almost a decade enjoying once I got my head on straight.
Its still beautiful & wild.
And there was plenty of water this year, a welcome sight.
I chased hatches.
And waited for the evening rise.
I cast desperately and caught nothing.
I caught natives and lots of stockies too.
And I fished an evening with my old man's closest friend and the coffin flies came off even though they were "over" and we caught a ton of trout and he's since said to me a number of times how much he had enjoyed fishing together that evening.
We stayed too late.
And got "home" later.
Any my dad wasn't there, but he was, and I hope that's how it will always be.
some people like Rocky Mountain Oysters... the rest wonder why they are eating balls. - Woolybug