Let’s go fishing…. Feeling down and whipped by another long week at work I sought my quiet place. This has changed over the years and now resides next to the bees up the hill in my apiary. The quantity bee hives have changed over the years, and is governed by how much free time I have. But the peace they provide just listening to the hum around you is therapeutic. When Jordan, my grandson, was a small boy we both would escape to the comfort of the bees and just lie back in the grass and watch nature at its best. I wanted him to remember these times but it seems that the time bandit has taken all the early memories away. But he may be like me; memories return if you just tune yourself to the right channel. Myself…I recall early memories by putting myself back in time during the few sketches of data I have left. Memories appear from nothing. This day as I sat against the semi-smooth bark of the Popular my thoughts were on Jordan and his birth; a first grandchild and a first great-grandchild. On his first birthday the grandparents alone would have filled a minibus. And to think I only had the privilege to know one to any extent. We were allowed to wait outside the door to their room; can’t now. And when I heard the music and the musical sounds of this baby boy crying…it was overwhelming. A grandson…Wow! He and Jennifer lived with us for I guess the first three years of his life. We were close and he and I enjoyed so much together. My journal, started when mother had her first round of cancer, describes in detail everything this sweet boy accomplished. No days went without an entry. Suddenly back to the present, I swatted a bee away and told her she knew better. Leave the Bee Master be. I am not out to rob you of your precious treasure. Then my thoughts drifted back to the day my dad, Jordan and I went fishing… We had planned the trip a week in advance and early that Saturday morning dad rolled into the driveway. Perfect day for fishing, my dad commented. I acquiesced, that yes it was. Out fishing trips were few and far between now and we had to find good access to ponds that you could just get out and fish. No more wadding the Eight Mile Creek or others. But that was fine…the time together was the object anyway. We checked all our gear and made sure Jordan had a small reel he could handle. No worms for us, only spinners for Bass or Bream. No messy worms today. We load up our gear and ourselves in my Ford 150 with Jordan in the middle. A fine day…nothing could take away the anticipated haul of fish and maybe a cookout with fresh fish. Out of my drive we went climbing the hill toward the Eva Road, around the curve where Vickie’s parents, Spencer and Bennie Hale, lived on the right. Jordan looked right, sat up straight and boasted to my dad, “My Great Pawpaw and Grandma live there.” Dad was about to reply when Jordan finished his statement…”And they are really, really old!” Okay, nothing could prepare us for that. Dad was laughing and I had to fight over the tears in my eyes to still be able to drive. But the little bugger wasn’t finished… He looked at my Dad and stated: “And Pawpaw, you are pretty old as well!” My dad grew suddenly quiet and I filled the truck with my own laughter. Never saw that coming I told Dad…and he smiled about it all. Jordan wasted no time continuing with his analyses of us…so I was next. He was still sitting up straight and looking forward when he turned to me and said, “And Pawpaw, you are getting old as well!” No laughter was left. I looked over at my dad and we shared a smile…not sure if the little squirt was finished. He wasn’t…he capped his scrutiny of us both with this, “And one day…I will be old too!” I reached over and tossed his hair and said he had a long time to go before he had to worry about that, and right now let’s go catch some fish. Dad was smiling ear to ear. The sweet and honesty of this sweet child, less than three years old, both surprised me and at the same time didn’t. We underestimate the ability of children to see and perceive the world around them. At this age they are exposed to the world hundreds of times more, compared to what we were. And I see this both good and bad. Children were not meant to grow up so quickly…but our society is governing that, not us. And as much as we try to counteract the dangers they face from day to day, we have to let them go and discover this on their own. And it is these days in our child’s life that frighten us the most. We had a wonderful day fishing and with it I carried home with me more than fish; I carried a memory with me straight from the heart of this child. It gets no better than that I assure you. And if anyone would have looked up the hill at me sitting against the tall tree next to the bees, they would have seen a straw hat pulled down over my face and fast asleep. Peace and quiet topped with a wonderful memory…the essence of life.
Posted on: Tue, 16 Jul 2013 13:34:51 +0000
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