Arliss McNalley
Father, Son & Muley Ghost
By Arliss McNalley
Jan 11, 2006, 09:07
 

First of all, I’d like to thank Bowhunting Net and everyone else who helped to bring Bowkaddy™ to the eyes of thousands of people in 2005.  Looking forward to a great 2006!

The recent holiday season came and went with the usual mix of family, travel and good cheer.  However, I will remember Christmas 2005, not for tears of joy, but for tears of sadness.  On the return trip to Red Deer after Boxing Day, I received a call from my sister informing me that our beloved Grandmother had just passed away.  Anybody who’s lost someone close to them knows the surge of emptiness that takes over the soul at that moment.

For better or for worse, life has taught me how to get through these times of trial.  As we laid Grandma in her final resting place, my thoughts turned inevitably to my grandpa laying beside her and my father, directly in front of them.  Suffice to say they both went well before their time, but not before they taught me how to fish, hunt and love the outdoors for all it had to offer.  Without all their teachings and camaraderie, I definitely wouldn’t be the outdoors fanatic that I am today.  Thanks, Grandpa.  Thanks, Dad.  And now, thanks Grandma. 

 

The day of the funeral the woods glittered like diamonds.

I likely won’t visit the cemetery again for some time.  I’ve always believed that I’m closer in spirit to them when I’m sitting in a treestand or casting a pickerel rig into a trout pond.  I’ve always been somewhat spiritual, but a glimpse of nature during Grandma’s funeral procession just blew me away.  The hearse led a long convoy of vehicles through the serene countryside, covered with spectacular hoar frost from thick fog the night before.  Halfway to the cemetery, we passed Hansman, a shallow lake where Grandpa taught me how to work a fishing reel and bring in my first fish.  In the bordering stubble field, standing boldly on a side hill not 150 yards off the highway were three mule bucks, one behind the other, majestically watching the vehicles go by.

I’ve driven past Hansman Lake a thousand times and have never seen deer in that spot before.  It was also unusual to see them in mid-afternoon, only a few weeks after the close of rifle season.  By all earthly reasoning, they shouldn’t have been there.  Makes a person think…maybe they weren’t.   Perhaps they were just a subtle message from the other side saying she made it okay and was once again enjoying the great outdoors in the company of loved ones.  Rest in peace, Grandma.

Please visit the History Page of my website for more information on the “Father” and the “Son”. http://alarisconcepts.com/History.htm

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