Monday, May 31, 2010

Memorial Day Memories

"On the River" - Mixed Media - 9 1/4" x 10 1/4"

This post is purely selfish. It's been four years now since I lost my Dad and I think about him every day. He taught me how to work hard, what it means to be honest and loyal, how to have faith, never said I shouldn't be an artist and he taught me how to fish. On our numerous trips to Montana or wherever, he would put me in the "best hole on the river" while he headed up stream or down, invariably returning with a creel full of trout. He would be dismayed if I hadn't caught a fish or two of my own and would casually throw in a line and hook one right under my nose. Of course this never failed to upset me. Once, as we arrived at a fresh hole together, he had a worm in the water before I could cross the fence. Exasperated, I complained that he "always did that to me" and "why can't you ever let me catch one first". He laughed, reeled in, and coached me where to toss my worm in. Sure enough, I felt a nibble, then a tug and the fight was on. After quite a battle Dad deftly scooped my trophy brown trout into the net. I was all smiles and Dad got a tickle out of seeing me with that nearly a five pounder, so fat with a big hook jaw. It was the biggest brown I had ever caught- before or since.
I am grateful Dad that you let me catch that fish. I am sure you would have caught it if I hadn't said something, so someday, when I get to that big fishing hole in the sky, please have a pole waiting for me. 'Till then, keep your hook wet- I love you Dad.

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