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Dear(Deer) Hunter

To say that I have ever truly been hunting would be a lie. To say that I love to walk through the woods in early fall and smell the leaves as they whither and die would have to be true I guess. It is this solitude that I enjoy most. Not because it is peaceful, but because it reminds me of the brother that would tell his hunting stories at THanksgiving dinner. About trudging through the woods to get to his deer stand and then sitting there hours for waiting for that little deer to pass him by. He was the toughest brother you could ever have. One that was intimidating even until the day he died.

I remember the day I got the phone call from my brother Duane that Friday afternoon on my way to work. "Jeff, Mom and I are on our way to Morgan Park. There is something going on with Mike." Three days later I was on my way from Boston and at his funeral. You see my brother was supposed to be at work at 10 o'clock that Friday morniing and instead of going, he called the police and told them not to let his kids in his house, that he had a gun. HIS LAST WORDS?????? THat gun that he used to do the one thing that I KNOW he loved took his life. But it his his love for hunting that always gets me to think about him in the fall.

I remeber the night of the funeral one of his closest friends said to me, "Next time you see Mike I bet you want to smack him in the face?" My reply was, "No, I already forgave him,


Sorry for the downer guys. It's been two years and I never get to vent......


I'm sorry for your loss. Venting is more than ok. Let someone know if you need to do more than venting.

thak you for sharing. I'm sorry for the pain you must feel at this lovly time of year.

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