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

The old man passed on Christmas Day. His heart had finally given out after a battle with congestive heart failure.

I was with my then young son (11 yrs old) sitting on a saddle overlooking the Verde River when he passed. Twenty years to the day and minute he passed, I was sitting on the same saddle with him, looking for javelina during a scouting trip for the little critters, in what the old man always said was "the coldest and most miserable weather trip" he had been on, but was also what he considered his best trip with a snug and dry camp, and good times. We'd only hunted there a few times, but it was a favorite spot to camp and poke around due to the location and petroglyphs and waybills which were heavy in the area. But Christmas day of 1984 was the last time we'd visited there together. Twenty years later I sat there with my son telling him of our camps and hunts there when I was a kid. Some time during that sit and talk of old times session sitting on that point with my son, my old man passed.

The thought of that sends chills down me to this day.

I wasn't with him when he passed, but I'm sure he wouldn't of wanted it any other way.

wabigoon;
Good evening to you my friend, thank you from the bottom of my heart for the thread and from the same place I'll thank all who've shared in it thus far and those who will.

When I was 9, my father was 51 and he had a heart attack which at the time less than 10% of victims did. He did however suffer from heart issues for the remainder of his life and I honestly lost count how many times I either met the ambulance at the hospital or took him in myself with the 4 way flashers going.

The spring he died, he had just been cleared to fly by his doctors - something he'd not been able to do for years - and so it was that he was a guest at my elder brother's 50th birthday party.

We picked them up from the airport and Dad and I were chatting in the garage while Mom talked to my wife and visited the kids in the house.

Dad said to me, "You know Dwayne, I'm going to be 83 this year if the Lord wills it, but honestly I can't make sense of that many years passing. Maybe 53 makes sense, but my eldest boy is almost that now so I know that can't be. It's gone much faster than I can understand somehow"

While I know we chatted about other things, that's what sticks out in my mind.

At 2:00AM that night/next morning, Mom called saying Dad had suffered from a stroke. The girls were staying there, so my wife and I headed over and after the ambulance loaded Dad, Mom and I followed to the local ER.

From what I can recall it was a little before 5:00 when the doctor came and asked us if Dad had any end of life wishes - as in heroic measures to prolong his life.

He'd often told me he wanted to die quickly and not be kept alive without his faculties - but unfortunately hadn't ever had that discussion with Mom. She asked me for years if I was sure I'd made the right decision when I told the doctor to just ease his way out.

It was right about 10:00AM on March 28, 2003 that Dad passed.

There were so many ways that the Lord honored his prayers, but a quick death was most surely one.

We buried Mom earlier this summer after a couple years of descending into worsening dementia - as others have said, when Mom passed it was overdue and a relief for us and I believe her too. She's with Dad finally.

Anyway wabigoon and the rest, I again want to sincerely thank each and every one of you for sharing this with us - with me.

Somehow it's meant a lot to me to read your experiences and honestly to think through and articulate my own.

Good luck on your upcoming hunts all, looks to be some good antler mass out there.

Dwayne

Friday, November 5th, 1999, 10:38PM.
I held his hand as he went and called TOD.
Complications from a tumor in his skull.
Most bizarre situation I've ever been in.
I could never have imagined a situation where
I would be telling someone that it was okay to let go.
I thank God for the nurse who was there. She was amazing.

Sorry to hear about your mom Dwayne (well, sorry to hear about everyone's stories in this thread) but earlier this summer is pretty recent.


To the OP: I lost mine on Oct 8, 1997. I was 18 years old. Still doesn't feel right.

Died little over 3 years ago, diagnosed with cancer made it almost 3 weeks, hit him like a train. I was asleep next to his bed when he passed. Woke to find him gone, 2:30 in the morning. I prayed and God showed up and let me know he was fine, drove m right to my knees, won’t ever forget that feeling of overwhelming presence. Got him cleaned up and woke up the family. Won’t say I don’t miss him, I do, but it’s different when you know beyond all doubt you will see each other soon. We were very close.

MM

May 8, 1986. I got the call and drove like a maniac yet missed him by 5 minutes. 71 years old. He was kinda like "The Great Santini". He was supposed to get out of the USMC in January of 1942 but the Japs extended his time for the "duration" and came out a Gunny. He gave my mother, my siblings and me hell for many many years. He beat us all the time but the verbal abuse was the worst. Things that were not allowed: friends, fun, laughing, watching TV, running, games. sports and anything else a normal child wants to do. He mellowed in his 60s but by that time we all had the original PTSD. He died at 71. I am 70. None of us ever talked back to him. I wonder now why I didn't talk about it with him. I never hated him. My own family was not treated that way. My kids wonder why I don't smile much. My grandkids are my pride and joy and my best times are spent with them now.

I took over my family business as third generation I’ve seen my grandmother my grandfather my uncle and my dad run it the last day I was with my dad we drilled open a vault door in and I scoped the wheels and turned the handle

Feb 8 2011 at 73. 31 years after his first heart attack and one day after getting his 5th ICD implanted. He worked right up until he couldn't and then bitched about not being able to. The first time he told me he loved me was the night my first wife died. He won't big on showing emotion but I knew he would do anything for me. Still miss him.

Mine died 15 years ago, at the age of 76, from Leukemia. Mom and I were in the hospital room with him and my Brother was coming in from out of state. Mom had dozed off and I was sitting there awake when he quit breathing. I hope He knew that someone was three with him at the end.

I've never cried this much since my dad passed in April 25th, 1999. Now alot of this thread is about guys that died at or before my age of 53. Jeez, this is a real tear jerker of a thread.

God bless all of you guys.

3 years and 1 day ago, Dad died of a unexpected massive heart attack at 62. He seemed to be in good health, lost my best friend and most dependable backup at the same time.

Guys, listen to "Dad's Old Number" by Cole Swindell. It sure hits home.

How many of you guys have dialed your Dad's number after he passed, without thinking first?

I've did it so many times.

September 29, 1998 in the wee hours of the morning at the age of 88.

Dad called a few weeks earlier and said his cancer was back and there was nothing medicine could do and asked if I'd come stay with him. I told my boss and he said "get the füück out of here and call me when you get settled". Dad and I hung out and talked or hung out and didn't talk. Nothing was off the table. My brother wanted me to call when I thought it was close and I did but he didn't make it in time...that was rough. Dad's the foundation I've built my life on and I'd give almost anything for him to be able to see my kids and grandkids today.

Mom passed 3 weeks ago today at the age of 96. Her dementia was getting bad and it was a blessing that she went quickly. I had the privilege of caring for her the last 14 years.

A good man here fire ^^^^^^^

Dad passed away on Dec. 6, 1994 at 5:30 am, he 64, I was 42. I had just had lunch( brought him BBQ Hash) with He and Mom that day, I lived about 95 miles away.

I drove home ,arrived ,ate a sandwich and my Sister called. Dad had a brain stem aneurism and was basically gone, we pulled life and then waited almost 40 hours for him to pass away. The hardest hours of my life, I miss and think about him daily, Mom died June 2, 2014.

Mom died from dementia, my Sis and I took care of her for the last 5 years, the last 2 she never spoke about Dad and then the last year we had to tell her who we were, that was hard, because she turned in to a mean, mean one.

My dad died 1949 I was 4 years old ,don't remember much about him,I'm sure my life would have been a lot better if he had lived longer,so if you have a dad don't take him for granted ,visit him as much as you can

Mine, who lived in NorCal, died last year eight days after his 89th birthday (June 6th) and four days after I left from my annual visit. I was in Namibia when he passed.

Mine physically, verbally, and emotionally beat the crap out of my mom for over 50 years. He disassociated himself from his kids when mom died 5 years ago. Only stuck around to beat everyone and put us down. Don't miss him. Dead to me.

My dad died 3/3/16 at 0142. I flew across the country all day to get there around supper time. I was the last of the kids to arrive. He was pretty out of it but obviously knew I was there. It was a real blessing to be able to leave nothing unsaid to him. I thanked him for all the years of taking the time to make sure I was included in hunting and fishing and for being such a good source of advice. When he died we were all gathered around him, with me and one of my younger sisters holding his hands. I still think of things I wish I could ask him.

The last five months were pretty rough for him as he was a bed ridden invalid. In October of 2015 when he first really went downhill it looked as though he might go quick so the wife and I took the kids for one last visit. One afternoon he said to me "Go get the Winchester, I want to give it to that boy." I knew immediately which Winchester he meant. I grabbed a camera along with the rifle. I was able to video dad giving my then 8 year old his favorite rifle, a Model 70 Winlite .270. With a shaky voice he told stories of some of the more memorable times afield with the rifle and handed it off to my little guy, saying "Just think of me sometimes when you use this."

17 November 2003, he was deer hunting. When he was late back to the cabin, the crew went to look for him and found him 10 feet from the blind, heart failure. Died doing what he loved.

Old70