I've written hundreds of fishing articles over the years. Funny thing is, although this article is about the best fishing trip I ever went on, I'm not sure it actually belongs in the fishing category.
It wasn't the sunny weather or the terrific fishing or even the idealistic location that made this such a wonderful trip though. It was my fishing partner. This you see was quite possibly my final fishing trip with my first born son.
I can still see his face when he caught his first perch at age five; smiling ear to ear while hiding the nervousness of what he might have to do about a very squirmy fish on his hook.
And now he is his own man, and a fine one at that. There are a million things a 21 year old could be doing instead of sitting in a boat with the old man, but I was grateful he didn't see it that way. If this was indeed to be our last trip together, I couldn't have asked for a better time. We seem to change out there on the lake, our fast paced life far behind us. We weren't even father and son, just two guys enjoying a slower pace, beautiful nature, and good conversation.
It seemed we could more easily talk about things we had trouble with at home. His desire to find his own place, to make movies one day, to move to a warmer year round climate. He told me of his plans to travel the world. And I gladly sat and listened to it all; no judging, no advising (okay... not much advising). Knowing how brief this would all be, I just sat and gladly listened to him.
It's funny how fishing and time distort each other. For me time just stops out on the water. The "real" world disappears. There's only that moment, and I wished I could freeze the moment forever.
What a cruel joke of nature that our principal job with our kids is also the toughest one: to let them go. To teach them to be self sufficient and well adjusted, and then let them fly away. My wife and I are so happy that we learned early on to stop and appreciate the "moment" as they happen. Time really does pass too quickly.
And on the afternoon of our last day, when he caught a perch, we shared a knowing glance. A nod it seemed not only to the past, but to our changing roles and a new life chapter. And I'm happy to say, he still smiles ear to ear when he catches one.
For all I know there will be more fishing trips; it may not have been our last. But he's leaving us now, striking out on his own, and it very much felt like the end of a life chapter. And though bittersweet, I am unbelievably grateful to have managed this spontaneous trip.
So if you're lucky enough to fish with your kids, remember to cherish the moments. Teach them, yes, but just sit and watch them too. Time does not, as it turns out, stop out there on the lake.
It wasn't the sunny weather or the terrific fishing or even the idealistic location that made this such a wonderful trip though. It was my fishing partner. This you see was quite possibly my final fishing trip with my first born son.
I can still see his face when he caught his first perch at age five; smiling ear to ear while hiding the nervousness of what he might have to do about a very squirmy fish on his hook.
And now he is his own man, and a fine one at that. There are a million things a 21 year old could be doing instead of sitting in a boat with the old man, but I was grateful he didn't see it that way. If this was indeed to be our last trip together, I couldn't have asked for a better time. We seem to change out there on the lake, our fast paced life far behind us. We weren't even father and son, just two guys enjoying a slower pace, beautiful nature, and good conversation.
It seemed we could more easily talk about things we had trouble with at home. His desire to find his own place, to make movies one day, to move to a warmer year round climate. He told me of his plans to travel the world. And I gladly sat and listened to it all; no judging, no advising (okay... not much advising). Knowing how brief this would all be, I just sat and gladly listened to him.
It's funny how fishing and time distort each other. For me time just stops out on the water. The "real" world disappears. There's only that moment, and I wished I could freeze the moment forever.
What a cruel joke of nature that our principal job with our kids is also the toughest one: to let them go. To teach them to be self sufficient and well adjusted, and then let them fly away. My wife and I are so happy that we learned early on to stop and appreciate the "moment" as they happen. Time really does pass too quickly.
And on the afternoon of our last day, when he caught a perch, we shared a knowing glance. A nod it seemed not only to the past, but to our changing roles and a new life chapter. And I'm happy to say, he still smiles ear to ear when he catches one.
For all I know there will be more fishing trips; it may not have been our last. But he's leaving us now, striking out on his own, and it very much felt like the end of a life chapter. And though bittersweet, I am unbelievably grateful to have managed this spontaneous trip.
So if you're lucky enough to fish with your kids, remember to cherish the moments. Teach them, yes, but just sit and watch them too. Time does not, as it turns out, stop out there on the lake.
About the Author:
Derek Gatehouse is quite passionate when it comes to fishing. To see Derek's main fishing website, which carries Shimano reels, please go to Shimano Fishing.
No comments:
Post a Comment