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My father used to take me fishing; i can remember it clearly: bleary eyed wakeups at 2:30 a.m. after preparations late into the night prior, the smell of gasoline as the outboard motor sputtered to life, its deafening roar as we raced the sun along the river's length. The eery silence that followed. Because we rarely talked. We were fishing. Dad loved largemouth bass, red-breasted bream, catfish, shell-cracker, warmouth, stump-knockers, and whatever else. i enjoyed fishing, too. But we rarely talked. Time moved on, and us with it. And there was less time for us to go fishing together. Years passed, and i said to myself, -i said it very clearly, i did- i said, *self, we need to go fishing soon. There is at least one more big fish out there that i am after.* i even mentioned it to my father. Let's go soon, i said... -Yeah, that sounds good.- but we both knew we wouldn't. Time moved on, and us with it. And there was less time for us to go fishing together. On the day of my father's funeral, there were many surprised faces upon my arrival. They thought i had gone off fishing, but i knew the river had run dry.
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Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
Hooking the Big One
My father used to take me fishing; i can remember it clearly: bleary eyed wakeups at 2:30 a.m. after preparations late into the night prior, the smell of gasoline as the outboard motor sputtered to life, its deafening roar as we raced the sun along the river's length. The eery silence that followed. Because we rarely talked. We were fishing. Dad loved largemouth bass, red-breasted bream, catfish, shell-cracker, warmouth, stump-knockers, and whatever else. i enjoyed fishing, too. But we rarely talked. Time moved on, and us with it. And there was less time for us to go fishing together. Years passed, and i said to myself, -i said it very clearly, i did- i said, *self, we need to go fishing soon. There is at least one more big fish out there that i am after.* i even mentioned it to my father. Let's go soon, i said... -Yeah, that sounds good.- but we both knew we wouldn't. Time moved on, and us with it. And there was less time for us to go fishing together. On the day of my father's funeral, there were many surprised faces upon my arrival. They thought i had gone off fishing, but i knew the river had run dry.
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derek-yohn
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Oct 25, 2013
Oct 25, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
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