Fish, Boats and Father's Day (6/23/11)

Memories are a strange thing to me. What is it about a certain moment in time that causes it to be permanently etched in the mind? Why do we remember some things and forget others? Most of the memories I have, or at least the ones that come to mind right now, seem to be of some kind of significance. But then again, there are a few that seem to have no substance whatsoever.

It is a rare occasion to have the presence of mind to realize that a memory is being created while it is happening. Only a moment of such significance can cause you to be swept away by it, lost in its magnitude, a moment so rare that it is all encompassing, polarizing, and more precious than the rarest of diamonds. A moment like that happened to me this past Father’s Day weekend. What was it, you ask? Was it the birth of my second child… winning the lottery… no, my wife put on her waders!

Many years ago, when I was a younger man, I was introduced to a blazing beautiful girl while working. As it turned out, she was hired by the same company I worked for and was to be my co-worker. Over the next few months I learned about the person she was, her interests, her dreams, what made her tick. While I, in the words of Brad Paisley, wanted to check her for ticks.

While telling her about myself, I mentioned that my one true love, at least to that point in my life, was trout fishing. Curious, she asked me to take her. So I did. She really seemed to take to it. Not the fishing so much, but she seemed to like being in the streams and rivers, walking amongst nature. A short time later she had her first pair of waders, purchased for her by my father. She accompanied me on many of the trips when I did not have a fishing partner, and I thoroughly enjoyed our time together. It wasn’t long until we were married… and her waders didn’t see the light of day again for 16 years! My wife would tell you it is because I didn’t know when to stop fishing. “Just one more bend,” I’d say, when she was ready to call it quits an hour before. She has a point really. I think it is harder for me to call it a day while fishing than it is for a smoker to quit smoking.

The day was beautiful. The sun shined down like God was smiling from up above. Large billowy bright white clouds wafted overhead. The breeze moved the leaves on the trees and cooled our skin. My wife and daughter explored and I fished. My daughter played with frogs and my wife discovered the largest crayfish I have ever seen. We sat on the bank together and ran our hands in the cool water. We held hands while walking upstream. My daughter and I ate a sweet-tart every time I caught a fish. And all the while I knew a memory was being etched into my mind... one that I will relieve for years to come.

I hope your Father’s Day was as good as mine – The Average Joe Fisherman