LOOKING FOR FISH
“The fish win today.” That’s what my Gramps said when we neglected to throw
our rods in the truck for a drive to the fishing hole two hours from home. And that’s what he’d say when we would get skunked on one of our many fishing trips to the lake.
He called it looking for fish, and to tell the truth, Gramps did most of the looking while I looked forward to the catching. Miles, hours, days we looked for fish at that lake. Thermoses of sugary coffee, yellow bags of Lays potato chips, Wonder bread and bologna sandwiches fueled our fishing trips. We’d look for fish when it was so cold the eyelets froze up after every third strip of line, and when it was so windy that we could barely cast. There were days when we’d drive right up to the lake and sit in the cab of the truck, hoping for a break in the weather so we could look for fish.
“The fish win today,” Gramps would say when he surrendered to the weather and turned for home.
I used to think we spent all those days just looking for fish, but years later, I know that what I really found on those trips was time with Gramps. And that’s something that I can never find again.