There’s definitely something about watching your dad teach your children to fish, but I am not so sure I can put a name to it. That certain something makes your heart clench in your chest with love for both of them, tears start to burn ever so slightly at the back of your eyes and all the memories of fishing with your father come flooding back to the forefront of your mind.
If you visit here on any regular basis, you’ll know I am an emotional basket-case and this is normal for me. If you are just visting for the first time, please don’t let my wild emotions chase you away.
I just get like this.
But here’s my dare.
I dare you to look at this picture below and if you fished with your Daddy, I dare you to stop those memories.
Too late. I know, you lose. That wasn’t even really a fair dare on my part.
This picture could be me 30 years ago… or any of you, my dear readers, decades ago…or your children right now..but happens to literally be my daughter with the biggest sunfish she caught on our trip to British Columbia the past week.
And if you remember your childhood fishing experiences, you will also remember how much more fun there is to be found while fishing. Which really means that your Papa holds the fishing rod and waits for the bobber to bob and you run off and play in the water.
Papa is smart, but you think that you have a system.
You take that net and are determined to catch minnows allll by yourself. While Papa holds the fishing rod as insurance, of course.
And really, if one person is effective, then two must be even better.
Well heck, three’s company after all! A big shout out to the teenagers who built this lovely little fort/sitting area – we won’t ask why – the kids had so much fun playing it it.
After catching two more fish that day, getting even better at reeling them in and learning how to safely release them back to swim another day, there still is nothing like your very first fish. The one and only, caught two days beforehand. He’s slightly smaller than the rest but more exciting than any other fish you catch will ever be.
Two lovely evenings of fishing for the first time, all thanks to Papa. Two evenings of my heart strings being pulled, excitement for my kids coursing through my veins and the thrill of watching them learn something I adored in my childhood – and still to this day I love to fish- and more pictures being taken than I can count.
Even posting the pictures brought it all back, I am writing with a huge smile on my face intermingled with little sighs of nostalgia once in a while.
Just think, I haven’t even posted about my son yet.
The Emotional Basket-case Magpie