Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Helen (Happy Hunters)

Good-old-fashioned teamwork is happening every week behind the scenes of this little blog - I love it! Every week, staff at the senior center scan the seniors' handwritten pages then email them off to volunteer transcribers, and then the volunteers (thanks guys - you are awesome btw) email the typed text back to me to complete the loop.

Jen is one of our volunteers (you've "met" her if you've been reading along.) I like getting emails from her because she sometimes includes a little comment on the story she's just typed up. This is what she wrote me last night. It's so nice. And super well-said. "Attached is Helen Lahr's story from this week. There's something poetic about the way she writes, which I really enjoy - like when she talks about the "Happy Hunters" at the end of this story."  



I was always amused when my sons, along with my father, would go hunting.

Let me go back a number of years. My Dad adored my sister and I (as did our mother), but when my sons were born, he was thrilled. I believe I mentioned earlier that my father loved to hunt and would travel quite a distance to do so.
When my sons grew up, my Dad asked if they could go hunting with him. My husband didn’t mind, but I had always been afraid of guns. At first I refused, but my father was such a nice Dad, I gave in. He purchased rifles for both of them and were they proud of them!

On a morning when they were going hunting, they would get up at the crack of dawn, go down to the car and, ever so gently, put the guns and small stools into the car. All of this was done quietly so as not to disturb the neighbors.

Finally, they would drive away. Upon arriving at their destination, my sons, under the watchful eyes of my Dad, would load their guns with the bullets.

My Dad selected this particular area to bring his grandsons because there were no other hunters there. He and Dwight wandered off, leaving Trevor slightly behind. Remember, Trevor loves animals and had no intention of ever shooting one. He came along only because he loved my Dad dearly and because he knew my Dad loved having him accompany him. Then, too, Trevor enjoyed nature.

At noon, they decided to eat lunch, but just then, Mr. White, the owner of a lot of the farmland, came out and invited them to lunch. There was plenty of nice cool milk to drink!

Finally, it was time to return home. The Happy Hunters sang joyously as they wended their way down the highway. Although they hadn’t caught any animals that day, it had been a most satisfying day for Pop-Pop and his grandsons.