Spending Time With Dad

I’m a country girl at heart. I grew up in a town of thirty-three people (not a typo) and didn’t appreciate all my blessings until I grew, moved away, and had children of my own. One of my favorite memories of growing up was spending time with my best pal–my dad doing what he loved most–hunting.

Autumn was his favorite season. It had nothing to do with his birthday (late September), but it was the beginning of different hunting seasons. From as early as I can remember, he’d include me–at least once a year–on a squirrel hunting excursion.

On those magical autumn mornings, we’d get up early and enter the woods before the squirrels started looking for their breakfast. We’d walk as quietly as we could, trouncing through ground cover, twigs snagging our pants, and acorns crunching under our feet. The crisp morning air wrapped around my face. My boots soaked from dew. Dad lead us to a spot—a perfect spot—where we would wait for the squirrels.

 

Every time

That’s how it went—every time. Every magical and perfect time.

No talking. Hunters don’t talk. Instead, we’d quietly bond over coffee (milk-coffee for me) and single-packed snack pies or the occasional piece of candy. After all, hunters needed to keep up their strength up as they watched and waited for a good shot.

Memories

Thoughts of squirrel hunting came to mind as I took my morning walk along the shore of the Susquehanna River. I stepped on fallen acorns and listened to the crunch of them under my feet. I stopped for a moment and looked up into the oaks that stood around me—and waited. After a moment, a squirrel scampered down a nearby tree and chattered. Had I disturbed his sleep? Was it the sound of the cracking acorns that made him holler at me? Standing there, I felt the crisp air wrap around my face and felt the dew cover my open-toed shoes.

In that moment memories of a simpler time flooded my mind. I thought about early morning adventures with my dad. When I thought I would always be his sidekick and he would always be my hero.

But Life took different turns … for both of us.

Back to reality

I sighed, wiped a tear from my eye, and continued home. When I reached the door, I paused for one last moment and listened to the sounds of Autumn. After all these years the sounds were the same. And for a moment, I remembered spending time with Dad and why Autumn was my favorite season of them all.

Parents, take time to enjoy your children. You’ll make memories for them that will last long after you’re gone. And children (even grown children) give your folks a hug. Ask about their day. Let them know you appreciate them. They won’t be around forever.

There is a special time for everything. There is a time for everything that happens under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1

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