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

Been nearly 45 years since mine passed.

All I can say is that if your father is still living you need to ask
him every kind of question you can think of and get him to tell
you stories of his life. They're all gone too soon

I remember getting the call alerting me to my biological father's death. The man was never anything like a father to me, or even a friend. I didn't care then and still do not.

My stepfather, who I regard as my dad, passed one Sunday morning four years ago. I got the call as I was headed home from hunting. It was a shock, but not unexpected as he had not been doing well at all. I have his photo at my loading bench and still find it hard to believe he is gone, and I do miss him.

December 17 1999 at 70 years old 4 weeks earlier he had a massive heart attack and found out he cancer every where. God was merciful he died of a stroke. He took care of our needs but wasn't close to his sons, maybe because he didn't have a Father he left when he was 8 years old.

March 26th 2019 0300 - got the call about an hour later. He'd been diagnosed with Stage 4 cancer right before Christmas. I live about 5 hours away but would call 3-4 times a week on my drive home, miss those. The day before I pulled off the road and talked an additional 15-20 minutes before I knew I was entering an area I'd loose signal, glad I did. He went peacefully so I'm thankful for that and the time we had this spring. Miss the calls though.

Valentine's Day 2018.

Hadn't smoked in 35 years but that was still what killed him.

Fall of 1973, I was short of 3.
Split rim truck tire got him.
Farmer, logger, sawmiller, he was well regarded by his peers, several who would tear up
talking about him decades later. I have always wondered what he would think of me,
and would I measure up. I hope so.

Mom re-married in 1980. A very good man took on a son handicapped in a farm accident,
A daughter, and myself. Raised us as his, we refer to him as Dad, I'm his Son.

May 24, 2007 at about 3:00 PM. June 23 he would have been 76. He had a Dr appt that morning, Mom went along, Dr said all looked well and just to keep doing what he was doing for his water retention treatment. Mom made him a sandwich after which he did what he always did, sat in his recliner for his after lunch nap . . . he never woke up. Officially they say he had a heart attack, but smoking and drinking heavily for well over 60 years was what I believe was the real cause. We had moved 500 miles from Mom & Dad 5 years earlier, I felt guilty about leaving them, hell, I still do. The first six months, or so after he died, I found myself picking up the phone to "consult" Dad and actually started pushing the numbers before remembering he wasn't there.

I was working in my home office when my sister called and told me Dad was gone. I started sobbing and put my head on my desk. Our Border Collie / Lab mix walked into the office, laid his head on my knee, looked up at me with sad eyes and let out a heavy sigh . . . Tell me dogs don't detect and react to emotions. It has been over 12 years now and the "pain" has subsided a bit, but it is still there.

Not the case with dad, but was with mom.

Got a call from the hospital right at midnight Feb 6 2013. Found in room unresponsive. Death certificate says 2/7/13, but I'm sure he actually passed late on the 6th. He would have been 90 if he'd lived another week and was in pretty good shape except for the last year where he had some struggles. He had suddenly gotten weak 2-3 days prior and was admitted to the hospital for observation. Dad was ready to go.

Mom never really got on her feet after dad died. The next 5 years were one hospital visit after the other. She broke both hips and fought through to recovery. But came down with pneumonia just before Christmas 2017 . By all accounts she should have died then, but she fought on until about 3PM 1/1/2018. She never got out of bed the last year. Weighed under 100 lbs when she died at age 87.

Ides of March, 1998

"The evil me do live on, while their good deeds are oft interred with their bones."

Day after Thanksgiving 2016. My sister let him know that I got all the cows move back home five minutes later he died he had been real worried about that. Smoked for like 60 years died of a massive brain tumor go figure. Lungs were checked when he was sick and absolutely perfect.

The kind of make matters slightly worse at the time that was one day and eight years after my granddad died on Thanksgiving Day. That would have been my mother's dad

June 11, 2015 12:17 p.m. Also known as The Day The World Stopped.

After a long battle with cancer (F*cking cancer). After countless surgeries attempting to halt it's spread and a brief period of remission, he decided he did not want to endure the ordeal of chemo, the use of which would only extend his life by a few months but at a terrible cost. He did one treatment and decided not to continue. So, we tried to make the best of his remaining months. We traveled and worked together for my entire life meeting many, many people across the country, and it was into his office that I had to step after his passing to continue the business. In the last month, I arranged for so many of his friends to call and come by to visit him, as we all knew what was coming. The weekend before The Day he insisted on going to an annual party that a family member hosts which draws hundreds of people, roasts lamb from the family ranch, and lasts all day and into the night. He insisted on attending but did not use oxygen during the time. This decision shortened his life considerably. I sat watching him reminisce with all his cousins (he was everyone's favorite) about the small town they all originated from, and observed the deterioration of his mental state that lack of O2 causes. Finally we made him leave, and I had to carry him to the car. A week later he was surrounded by his family as he breathed his last with me holding his hand.

I know every man loses his father, but that doesn't make the experience any easier.

Thanksgiving 2015

May 13 2010. Dad was 88 years old.
He'd been in pretty good health up until fall, but wouldn't go hunting because he was having trouble controlling his bowels, which I didn't know.
In late April he decided to have a bag put in. He never recovered from the surgery.
Watching the toughest man I knew waste away in a hospice was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.
Ain't a day goes by that I don't think of him and Mom and thank God for the blessing of two great parents who loved me!
7mm

Fortunately, for me anyway, his good deeds are still thought abut frequently and the beatings of us kids and the berating of my mother are just a fading memory.

Geno

December 16 1998. Heart attack....He was 53.

Good Friday, 2011. He gave far better than he got.

Mine is alive and well.

If I have to listen to another Lee Marvin or Lee van Cleef story, I'm gonna smash his remote control and call block him on my iphone

He's hiking out near Mt Whitney this week in King's Canyon. And I seriously doubt he's wearing his Air Cav Stetson.

The other side of this story is him bragging to his buddies about driving you crazy telling you rambling stories about long-dead B movie actors.

I told him I gonna put him in a nursing home and make him watch Throw Mama from the Train every day.

October 30, 2015 at 84 yrs old... the anniversary of his and Mom's first date. She died 6 yrs earlier on Good Friday. Same hospital, same surgeon, same surgery. Both died post-op and never left the hospital.