My youngest brother loved camping and always carried a hiking stick. He loved to whittle it - not to carve shapes into it, he would just whittle chips off of it until it was too short to use. When he died, we took his last hiking stick along with us to one of his favorite campsites then took turns whittling chips off of it while we talked about him, telling stories and recalling the good times. It was a great way to honor his memory, and we could almost feel him sitting there around the fire with us.
