HooK LiNe and SinKer

Though I know spring is right around the corner, and I look forward to the rebirth of nature’s bounty and for some of you, the births of new little ones who’ll soon be pitter-pattering on your hearts can’t come soon enough…I just can’t help but bitch about this particular time change; and never more this year than any other.

I don’t know what it is.

It’s not the extra daylight surely.  Who doesn’t like the normalcy of waking up in the light and going to sleep when it’s dark?

It’s not the rain because I’ve never minded a good ol’ rainy day.  I love them actually.

Who wouldn’t, knowing this beauty below, from a year ago, is drinking it up so it can make another grand entrance?

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That said though, It just feels, to me, that the spring daylight savings robs more of the day than it gives.

When I wake in the morning, it feels too late.

When I retire at night, it feels too early.

When I think about lunch, it’s too close to dinner.

When I think about dinner, it’s too soon after lunch.

Feeling this way, you’d think the fall time change would make me feel the opposite…

Up too early; to bed too late; starving by lunch; when the hell is dinner.

Right?

But no…I feel none of that.  And frankly, I don’t remember the spring change feeling this intense before either.

I keep asking myself “What the hell is it this year that makes me feel so irritable about it all?”

And then it hits me.  Or at least, I think it does.

Along with all I do look forward to in the spring, now, there are things I know I’ll never see or do or feel again.

At least, not in the same way.

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I’ll never see the joy on his face when the ice has retreated enough for us to take poles in hand and put lines to water, hoping for enough perch for dinner or, at the very least, stories grand enough for everyone to swallow…

HooK Line and SinKer

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We’ll never walk the rocky path through the woods, looking for that one spot that offers the perfect balance of flat rock and branch-free air, to sit and cast a line (not to mention a hearty tree trunk to hide behind for those necessary times).

Or a high, flat bank, on which to perch a chair to jerk a perch.

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I’ll never feel the strong surety of his hands as he takes the ‘big’ one off my line because I jumped instead of jerked, so that fish swallowed it all…

HooK Line and SinKer

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I’ll never see him begin another spring outing as the 5’7″ man he was, only to end the day coming in at a cool 5’11” from the mud cake that grew on the bottom of his shoes; we, full anticipation for the tall tales about big fish, that we willingly swallowed…

HooK Line and SinKer

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I know the memories of these times are what are important.

I know too, that when the fall arrives, there will be even more that will make me miss him even more.

The scores of memories of him saying “Let’s take this road, there’s a great barn you need to see!”

Those are the ones that will make me weep first and smile again…after a time.

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Those times, though as forever behind me as they are in the rear-view above, will always be the happiest times we shared.

But I also know and will remember well, that when next the boys lower the boat to kiss the Clyde one misty morning, he will be there.

He’s probably there now…waiting…for the ice to break, the fish to come up for air, and us kids to show up with all we need, to keep the traditions going and the memories fresh.

He’ll be there.

And we’ll be there.

Ready to take it all…

HooK  Line  and  SinKer.

the clyde

Published by

Rhonda

Hi everyone! Welcome to 50 Shades of Gray Hair. 50 Shades is my blog of life over the hill, where each day is full of delicious opportunities to earn another gray hair. I stopped declaring war on the gray when I began this blog years ago. Instead, I embrace and celebrate them along with whatever life decides to throw my way, with (sarcasm forward) humor and an optimistic eye to the future. I think. I hope? I don't know. At any rate...it's real, it's honest, it's full of 4 letter words, and it's me...on a platter. I sincerely welcome you all to my porch....♥♥Rhonda

28 thoughts on “HooK LiNe and SinKer”

    1. Oh Yvonne, there you go again. Your comments are so full of encouragement…I can’t tell you how they lift me up. I have such strong memories of all the times with my Dad, and though I felt angry and sad when I began this post, by the end, I was softly crying but my heart felt lighter, just for the memories that came with the writing. That’s why I write…to remember, to feel, to move forward, to heal. You are such a kind person, thank you.

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  5. What a beautiful and poignant post. I feel almost as if I knew your father – you write so well about him and the photos are fantastic. I lost my dad when I was 19 and can so relate to the weepy/smiley memories. Lots of love to you Rhonda.

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    1. Thank you Jules. He and I were a lot alike, so you do know him in a way. And, from what you say about your own memories, I suppose I should clear out a corner of my heart and make up a permanent bed for Dad’s memory companion, Bitter Sweet. I’m okay with that. Love to you my friend

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  7. There are so many ways a person can touch the heart of another, and being able to do that is a gift. You my friend, have that gift through your writing. Oh, how lucky we are to be able to read what you write. It takes us to where you are, sometimes to experience the sadness, sometimes causing us to shed a tear and yet at other times revel in the pure joy of your reflection of something so special. Brian

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    1. Brian, you humble me my friend. I think it would surprise a great many people to find out that you and I have not seen each other for more than 40 years for this is a comment from a true friend. Thank you so very much for these words and more so, for the love behind them. It proves, in my heart, that I am very much like my father…he too made friends for a lifetime. xo

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Nice-n-Easy...but tell it like it is