Lil Brother
New member
It was thirty years ago today that my dear father was taken away to heaven. Daddy had been sick for quite some time and WAS a christian, so I'm sure I will see him again some day.
A story popped in to my head today as I was thinking about him and I decided to write it in memory of him. It is short, but one of the sweet memories that I keep of him.
It was the summer of 1961 and Daddy was taking me fishing. Not far, just across the freeway to one of the ponds at Longhills Golf Course. In those days no one minded if you fished there as long as you kept the place clean. Daddy was two years younger than I am today (forty-eight), and I was all of five years old. It didn't take much to entertain me because I was already a "veteran fisherman" Daddy had taken all of us kids fishing from the time we were born.
We were equipped with a 14 ft cane pole and a coffe can full of nightcrawers. Daddy wasnt going to fish because he knew that he would have his hands full just baiting my hook for me and tossing it out as far as the line would let it. On the end of my line was a bream hook and a couple of feet up was a red andwhite bobber.
The pond was chaulked full of golf balls and Daddy just happened to know that it was also full of big ole bream. From the moment that he tossed it in the pond, the bobber took a couple of ducks, then went completely under. Remember, I was only five years old, so i couldn't just set the hook with my wrist, so I chose to do the only thing that I knew to do without even Daddy telling me. I just ran backwards up the bank pulling the fish all the way out of the water.
Hmmm, now that seemed pretty easy so I thought that I'd try it a again. In the mean time, Daddy took the fish,(the size of his hand), and put it on the old metal stringer that he had brought along. He baited my hook again, told me "that a boy," and threw it back in to the exact same spot. WHAM!! Instant replay!
As the day went on, I did let a few get off, but after it was all said and done, I had fourteen big bream on that stringer! As we were driving home Daddy said "open the kitchen door and throw em on the floor and tell mama I caught em so you clean em!"
I never could bring myself to do that, but that was Daddy's saying from then on. He told this story a million times as I was a boy. He was proud of me and the way he had taught me to fish.
We had MANY more trips to follow and caught lots of fish most of the time. He taught me how to hunt as well as fish and was setting me up for the life that I would have after him. He was a wonderful father and my heart aches tonight.
Dont let anyone ever tell you that your heart will heal after time, because the hurt will never go away. I miss him so much.
November is almost over.
Lil Brother
A story popped in to my head today as I was thinking about him and I decided to write it in memory of him. It is short, but one of the sweet memories that I keep of him.
It was the summer of 1961 and Daddy was taking me fishing. Not far, just across the freeway to one of the ponds at Longhills Golf Course. In those days no one minded if you fished there as long as you kept the place clean. Daddy was two years younger than I am today (forty-eight), and I was all of five years old. It didn't take much to entertain me because I was already a "veteran fisherman" Daddy had taken all of us kids fishing from the time we were born.
We were equipped with a 14 ft cane pole and a coffe can full of nightcrawers. Daddy wasnt going to fish because he knew that he would have his hands full just baiting my hook for me and tossing it out as far as the line would let it. On the end of my line was a bream hook and a couple of feet up was a red andwhite bobber.
The pond was chaulked full of golf balls and Daddy just happened to know that it was also full of big ole bream. From the moment that he tossed it in the pond, the bobber took a couple of ducks, then went completely under. Remember, I was only five years old, so i couldn't just set the hook with my wrist, so I chose to do the only thing that I knew to do without even Daddy telling me. I just ran backwards up the bank pulling the fish all the way out of the water.
Hmmm, now that seemed pretty easy so I thought that I'd try it a again. In the mean time, Daddy took the fish,(the size of his hand), and put it on the old metal stringer that he had brought along. He baited my hook again, told me "that a boy," and threw it back in to the exact same spot. WHAM!! Instant replay!
As the day went on, I did let a few get off, but after it was all said and done, I had fourteen big bream on that stringer! As we were driving home Daddy said "open the kitchen door and throw em on the floor and tell mama I caught em so you clean em!"
I never could bring myself to do that, but that was Daddy's saying from then on. He told this story a million times as I was a boy. He was proud of me and the way he had taught me to fish.
We had MANY more trips to follow and caught lots of fish most of the time. He taught me how to hunt as well as fish and was setting me up for the life that I would have after him. He was a wonderful father and my heart aches tonight.
Dont let anyone ever tell you that your heart will heal after time, because the hurt will never go away. I miss him so much.
November is almost over.
Lil Brother
