I'm so excited

It’s about 4:30am. In just a few hours, I will embark on a trip that I hope will hold a lifetime of memories. I hold this hope, not because of our destination and not because of our activities but because of who I’m going with. The simplest and most excitedly childlike way I can put this is I’m going fishing with my dad.

While I was growing up, my father often enjoyed many activities that he attempted to involve my brother and I in (and occasionally my sister). He enjoyed golf, fishing and playing chess. As any young child would, I took an interest in these activities mostly just to spend time with my father. As I grew into my teens, I found that my interest drifted toward different activities. My father would invite me to play golf or just go out to the driving range but I declined… many times.

Dad would also take us fishing on occasion. Eventually, both my brother and I lost interest – probably because we didn’t understand the concept of fishing. It’s not about catching the fish, it’s about taking time.

I recall growing up in Oklahoma when we’d go to a fishing dock in the winter. We would stay relatively warm but still had access to the water. The problem was there were several others with the same idea. I don’t remember ever catching a fish at these times. What I remember was I was cold, I was bored, and the place reeked of fish.

During the summers, we would fish the banks along Keystone Lake and still not catch anything. I think I recall maybe three times that I actually caught something. For a child, the number of fish vs. the number of hours spent fishing were not encouraging.

Now that I’m older, I realize it’s not always about catching fish… although that is a bonus.