Fishing with
my father was anything but boring, but my mother dreaded every fishing season.
“Your father is a veritable Mr. Hyde when he fishes,” she would say, generally including an emphatic gesture like hitting Dad with the newspaper, pretending a fly had landed on his shirt. “It’s safer to cuddle up to a rattler than be stuck in a boat with your father.”
But over
time, my mother learned the wisdom of patience in dealing with my father’s idiosyncrasies.
“When you’re married to a man for over sixty years, you forgive these sorts of
insanities. Your father’s done a lot of crazy things that challenged my
patience, but the craziest thing was the day he brought home that trout he
caught at Butternut Creek.”
Dad squeezed
Mother’s hand. “I suppose she’s right.”
They shared
the tale that symbolized their sixty plus years together.
“Butternut
Creek is probably the trickiest place I ever fished in,” Dad said. “Why it’s so
narrow you could toss a stone from one side to the other. And the trees like to
hold hands across the creek.”
My father
first cast got a hit. “By the force of the pull, I knew he was a big feller.”
Downstream,
Eddie, Dad’s fishing buddy, was about to cast when he saw Dad struggling to
hold his line. “Looks like a keeper, Cal,” he shouted. “Better use the net!”
“I left it in
the truck!”
Dad could see
the truck in an open field about a quarter of a mile downstream, but it might
just as well have been two miles away. As Dad battled the beast of the stream, Eddie
splashed his way toward the truck. Long minutes later, he plunged into
chest-high rapids.
For an agonizing second, Dad thought his amazing catch of the day would become catalogued with the other trillion stories of the one that got away.
“Got him!”
Eddie shouted as he emerged triumphantly. They stopped at the water’s edge and
shared that kind of emotional moment between men sans tears and embraces. Eddie
simply stated, “Got to have a picture of this one, Cal.”
“Well, I
don’t own a camera,” Dad moaned.
“Cal,
we’ve got to have proof. Nobody’s going to believe we actually caught this
fellow.”
“Well, neither one of us has one. At least we know what
we caught.” The men trudged home with no lasting memento to herald their
deed.
As much as
Mother despised fishing, she understood what this catch meant to my father. “Put
the fish in the tub,” she said. “I’ll find us a camera.” The next day she
borrowed one from her employer, and the picture found its way into Dad’s brag
book.
Winner of the 2012 Selah Award for best first novel (The
Other Side of Darkness/Harbourlight), LINDA RONDEAU, writes for the reader who
enjoys a little bit of everything. Her stories of redemption and God’s mercies
include romance, suspense, the ethereal, and a little bit of history into the
mix, always served with a slice of humor. Walk with her unforgettable
characters as they journey paths not unlike our own. After a long career in
human services, mother of three and wife of one very patient man, Linda now
resides in Florida where she is active in her church and community. Readers may visit her web site at www.lindarondeau.com. Her second book, written under L.W. Rondeau,
America II: The Reformation, Trestle Press, the first in a dystopian trilogy, is
a futuristic political now available in ebook on Amazon.com
and Barnes
and Noble. Print edition is coming
soon. She is also contracted with Trestle Press for a prequel to her America II
trilogy called Rains of Terror. This will appear in serial form. Volume One
will be released soon. An Christmas Adirondack
romance ,
It Really IS a Wonderful Life, is now available for pre-order, published by
Lighthouse of the Carolinas.
13 comments:
Love it! Today is my father-in-law's Birthday. He was the great storyteller of the family. I could go on and on (as he often did) but suffice it to say, no detail was too small to be included in his stories!
memories are so important and something we can pass on to the next generation.
That's really sweet. She obviously really loved him. :)
Story reminded me of my Grandpa Reynolds. His hunting stories kept us glued to our seats. :) Thanks for the post, Linda. Hope you're doing okay this morning!
I love committing family memories to writing. In fact I've written and self-published using Lulu.com a book for each of my parents when they turned 90. Mom had to share her book with her twin brother, but that made for lots more fun as my cousins worked with me to remember, write, and share their memories as well. I have since found another way to share the book online here: http://issuu.com/janicedgreen/docs/twins_their_first_90_years
Our stories were of pheasants ...in the laundry room. Great memories.
Our stories were of pheasants ...in the laundry room. Great memories.
@ Patty...that she did thought they fought for most of their 63 years together...probably what kept them together.
@Karen...Dad loved to hunt, too. Never bagged a dear though so I figure heaven will be full of them.
@Janice....helping our oldsters write their memories is a great thing. I applaud you.
@ Kevin...now there's a story!
A great post, Linda. Lovely memories.
@ Liz thank you
Great story, Linda. It's memories like these that keep our parents alive forever :-)
Blessings,
Deb
@ Deborah
absolutely
Love the story. What a trooper your mother is.
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