Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Gone Fishing (02/01/07)
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TITLE: Fishing with dad | Previous Challenge Entry
By Rhonda McKissack
02/07/07 -
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So at the break of dawn we would be sitting in the boat, fishing poles ready and waiting for the fish to bite. Sometimes we caught several fish and took them home for dinner. Other times, we didn‘t catch anything but we always had a wonderful time together.
A few years later, my younger brother would be joining us on the lake. We would both find a good spot for fishing but it didn’t take long before the two of us were fishing right next to dad. For someone who loved to fish, he didn’t seem to mind that we were crowding his space or getting our lines tangled with his.
Sometimes he would tell us to keep our voices low or we would scare the fish away. But my brother and I would keep on laughing or talking too loud, only to have my dad give up and join in on the fun we were having.
We would sit there on the banks of the lake until the fish would settle to the bottom, finding refuge from the hot sun, and no longer hungry for what we had to offer them.
Then we would picnic in the shade with sandwiches my dad made for us, and talk about the big fish we saw jumping in the water.
There were times we would take trips to the Gulf of Mexico where my Grandfather lived and go fishing with him. The four of us would go to the end of the pier, stopping to see what was being caught that day. Occasionally we would witness a shark or stingray being fished out of the ocean or we would watch the dolphins swim by the pier.
When I think back to those days, I realize it wasn't really about how many fish we caught or what lake we were on. It was the bonding that took place between us that remains in my heart.
I believe dad enjoyed sharing his favorite hobby with us and watching the lake come alive through our eyes.
As my brother and I got older and became interested in our own hobbies, my dad’s first grandchild was born, one who would eventually take our place on the lake.
He and his new little fishing buddy would come home with the familiar stories I remember so well.
My Dad is gone now, leaving only memories of our fishing days and the fun times that we had with him.
He would never get the chance to meet my son or take him fishing like he took us or his first grandson.
But I continued the tradition. When my son was old enough to go fishing, my husband and I would take him out on the lake,doing the very same things my dad did for us, including baiting his hook at least twenty times, only to have him sling it off before it hit the water. But that didn’t matter. It was about the quality time, sharing stories of my father and bonding with my own son.
I still enjoy fishing, but finding the time to go doesn’t seem to be a priority anymore.
My son, 19 years old now, has his own hobbies and doesn’t seem to mind that those days are over.
But someday, he will have a beautiful little boy or girl, and he will be on that lake again, sharing the tradition with them.
I like to imagine that there is a great lake in Heaven and my dad is sitting there fishing, along with other great fishermen. They are sharing stories about the love ones they left behind here and the wonderful times they had out on the lake.
And sometimes when someone comes up to me and asks where my dad is now, I would like to smile and say, "He’s gone fishing."
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