As I stare down at my father's weathered lanyard and as my eyes lock onto one specific band, I find myself wondering if this might be the first band I ever saw him take. As I look to another, I wonder if this might be the one he took on a hunt after we broke ice for two hours fighting our way to "The Big Hole", our favorite duck hole. I see another and wonder if this might be the one from the last day of the season one year when we were about to pick up the decoys and he said, "Let's give it 10 more minutes." And sure enough, his last duck that year was banded. With each band, there is a special memory, but these bands only represent a small number of memories that were made. They go on and on.