Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire The Day Your Father Died?

Jan. 16th. 2013 at 6:11pm. 72 years young from Alzheimer's. The last 10 years were rough, but the last five were terrible to see such a hard working man descend into a pile of nothing.

Everyone was there except our mother. She was on a much needed cruise with friends, terrible timing! Not her fault for being away. He went down hill in a matter of hours!

Elk Country

December 25th, 2013 at approximately 8:00 pm. I still miss him. Christmas isn't quite the same.

G23

Coming up on 20 years next month, 9-19-1999. Hard to believe, I think of him often....

Never knew him, they divorced when I was a baby. You all that had a Dad are lucky. If you still have one, go see him!

Had a sorry stepdad that would beat you up, break your arms and jaw.

My father died on what would have been my mother’s 64th birthday, Feb 19 2011, in my baby girl’s room across the hall from mine. When I woke to check on him he was still warm. I got to carry him out onto the gurney for my semi-retired 6th grade math teacher to load him into the hearse.

He and I had a rough time the last few years. I was taking care of him after my mom died because he’d never grown up and had no self control.

The man who was like a second father to me died this past Friday morning. He and his wife were best friends w/ my parents in college and fixed them up on their first date, we’re devoted to the same congregation and had kids my age. Their oldest son was my best friend until he left town for the Army right after Hs. I hung out w/ all of them on Thursday as we all said our good byes. Pretty awesome experience.

Living well one day at a time makes dying well a lot easier, and after Thursday I see more clearly than ever what a gift dying well can be to the next generation. Thank God for my dad and for “Uncle Larry”.

One day before his 70th birthday - February 15, 1986..

For me, the entire universe tilted that morning because the very best man I ever knew left us for Heaven. He was one great man - wise, loving, tough, caring, skilled, and on and on. I had flown East to visit with him a week earlier and our weekend was simply filled with experiencing all of those. During his funeral celebration and by the grace of God, my eldest daughter and I were able to perform some of his favorite Christian music before becoming engulfed in tears and our sense of loss. His gain.

Mine died in1973, a week from his 53 birthday. heart attack. He'd had one about 5 years before, and we thought he was doing okay. I have him to thank for my love of guns and hunting. I was only 22, and have wondered many times just how my life would have turned out had he not does when he did, as he was the only child and a farmer, so it changed my plans a lot.

November 1, 2017, a little after 5 a.m. I got him up at 3:30 a.m. as usual to get ready for dialysis. At first he just said I'm not going today, which he had never done. He wanted to lay back down. Then he wanted to check his bank acct. which he did. He tried to lay down again, but I kept him up. Then he said he needed some help and wanted to go the E.R. I got him in the truck and by the time I got around to the driver's side he was in cardiac arrest. I called 911, drug him out of the truck and started CPR to no avail. I can still hear and feel the bones breaking from the compressions. It's still pretty rough some days, but seems to get better day by day.

Dad and I were pretty damn tight. We worked together for many years and lived together in the beginning and the end. The day before he died, I guess now that we both knew things were coming to a head. He seemed really down, so I took him to a friend's house on the bay. He got on the golf cart and sat by the bay for a good while. When we left he smiled, which I hadn't seen in quite some time, and said thanks. Later that evening we were sitting in his yard and he smiled again. He looked at me and said, "I picked a pretty place, didn't I"? I smiled back and said, "You sure did Dad". I'm still here, typing from his old desk.

Thanks for the thread btw. Dad's birthday was Aug. 29, 1941. He's been on my mind quite a bit, I guess with his birthday coming up. I'm gonna buy a new flag for his birthday, his old one is looking a little tired.

Mine died age 59 on June 26 1986 2 years after having an initial heart attack. On his last day I took him out on Lake Champlain for a day of lake trout and salmon fishing. We limited out and it was clouding up and the wind grew to an uncomfortable level so we quit for the day. On the way in bucking the rolling breakers he had a funny look in his eye. We ate some lunch then went our separate ways. I got the call that he passed at home around 11 that night. He loved to fish and it was fitting that he got to do it on his last day.

Remember it clearly
Oct 17,1980 3:10pm
53 yrs old, cancer

My dad, Irving W. C. Hamlin, passed away on August 28, 2001. He went several hours before I made it home from La Maddalena, Italy via MAC Flight. I flew back to Italy via a commercial flight out of Philadelphia on the morning of 9 September, 2001. I remember flying over New York City and seeing the World Trade Centers as we went by...

He was a combat infantryman 116/29th in the ETO, MIA in France for 72 Hrs (I have the telegrams), when he got out, he went to college, got a commission as a 1st Lt in the US Air Force after it split from the Army, got out as a Captain, went to work as Civil Service, retired in 75.

August 8th of this year. He had a stroke in July. We knew it was the end. We all had an opportunity to say goodbye. He was a good man. It was tough the week before and the week after. Things are better now. He was 75, married for 55 years. Cant ask for a whole lot more.

Don't remember the day nor even the year. What I do remember is being happy he passed. To see what Alzheimer's and cancer had done to him let me know that whatever else I thought, I had compassion for the man.

Diagnosed with cancer on December 15, 1984, died February 28, 1985, He was twelve days short of 43. I was 22 and the oldest of five.

Dec1, 1979......You never forget the worst day of your life...

At 56, he left the party way too early...

Somewhere I have the date written down. I'm terrible with days/dates/ time.

While he provided a good roof over our heads, plenty of nourishment, clothing, and activities like scouting, and he enjoyed helping out our community.......................


he was a real pain in the ass many other ways. Right up until he died.

Glad some of you folks had "great" dads.

I'll leave it at that.

Geno

*

may 26 ,2013 age of 76. hardest day of my life . cancer that he hid from everyone got him after a full and hard life that he absolutely lived to its fullest.

4/21/92 age 66.
Damn cigarettes.
Last decade was rough, chemo, radiation, surgery, etc.
He never complained.
Awarded Purple Heart for wounds on Okinawa in 45.
He was a good dad to all seven of us kids.

My father died May 5, 2017 after a 5 year battle with cancer that could not kill him. On that date he came home from the hospital the doctors said he would never leave, got in his truck and drove it at over 80 mph into a concrete bridge barrier. DRT. I always knew the only thing that could kill him was him. He was not a good man or father, but I hope he got into Heaven.

The man I loved like a son should love a father was Don Workman-my stepfather. I am certain he woke each day with two thoughts. First, what would make my mother happy and then what would make me happy. He and my mom live on the farm next to mine for the last 10 years of their lives. He loved being back on a farm. He was a wonderful man who worked for the same company for over 50 years. He was an old Indiana farm boy who loved to hunt and fish and could fix, plumb, wire, build and make about anything he wanted or needed in life. He enjoyed a good laugh and eating my mom's home cooking. He loved animals and doing just about anything with me and my mom. He was the most gentle and bravest man I have ever known. The courage and grace by which he faced pancreatic cancer was astonishing. When the doctor gave him he diagnosis Don turned to me and said "Well, that is bad news" and 20 months later he passed without a complaint. He never showed any self pity and never felt sorry for himself. I think he hung on so long as the end because he didn't want to leave my mom. His last words to me were " I love you and take care of your mother". He died at 5:00 a.m. June 12, 2016. I hope I face my death with as much dignity as he did. My mom passed a month and a day later. I think she missed him too much. Her last words were "I love you" then she reached out as if taking someone's hand and breathed her last breath. I like to think she took Don's hand into the next life.