June 15, 2008 01:36 am
—
Fathers and fishing. The two seem to go hand in hand — or should if they don’t already.
My father and I had a rocky relationship. He struggled with alcohol throughout the first 20 years of my life, and his health in the final 10 years of his life made it difficult for the two of us to mend our relationship.
Don’t get me wrong — I’m as much to blame as my father. I spent so much time being mad at him, however justified, that I never bothered to get to know him as a person or father.
I’m stuck on this now, because as a second Father’s Day passes without my father, I’m realizing that in all reality, my dad left me one pretty special gift.
Fishing.
For as little as we did together while I was growing up, I do remember the old man kicking my butt out of bed early on a Saturday morning to take me fishing.
As an adult, I’ve learned from my older siblings that my father had a passion for fishing, but all those times he woke me up early to take me out to the creeks around our town tucked away on the southern Minnesota border, he never wet a line.
He watched me fish; I’m sure he snuck nips from a hidden bottle or maybe he poured it into his soda, but he never fished.
In my bitter youth, I never bought a present for my dad on Father’s Day. Not once. I’m not sure how that made him feel, or if he really ever cared at all, but now I sorta wished I had taken him fishing. Especially in the later years of his life.
If his passion for hooking pike (the king of the creeks we fished) rivaled mine, then I think a trip out with his son would have been the perfect present.
But that is neither here nor there, because both of us missed our chance to change things, and now it is too late.
As a father myself and a man eager to teach his nearly 2-year-old son how to fish, I’ve spent a good deal of time thinking about those fishing trips with my dad. I wonder if my son will feel the same thrill as I did when catching a fish, any fish?
I imagine he will, and I imagine I will feel such pride. Isn’t this what being a father is all about?
I guess where I’m going with this, is that if your dad loves to fish, but between work, and family and other commitments never has any time, then take him out to fish.
You might be surprised when your special Father’s Day gift to old dad turns into a lifetime gift for yourself.
Snag and hookups ...
The other day I took in a very unusual but truly rewarding experience when I went fishing with my older brother and his in-laws, who happen to be from Taiwan.
His mother-in-law bought a nonresident, one-day license to fish, so we headed out first to Madison Lake, where my brother caught a nice bass, but nothing much else was hitting.
This can probably be attributed to three children, who politely threw rocks at our line and lures as we retrieved our casts. They did this to other anglers as well, and when I asked the little boy to not throw rocks at my lure, he sassed back.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“You’re right, I’m not,” I said. “Cause if I was the boss of you, you wouldn’t be throwing rocks at my lure.”
The father came over every 10, maybe 15 minutes to say not to throw rocks (one time mind you), then he disappeared. Soon other anglers were telling the kids to knock if off and get back by their dad, only to be greeted with more back talk.
Finally, my brother, his in-laws and I headed over to Little Jefferson, where his mother-in-law pulled in a nice crappie and I landed a 5-pound northern, which my brother’s in-laws got to enjoy that night.
I figure if you’re coming to Minnesota from Taiwan and you want to eat fish, you can’t go wrong with a northern and a fat crappie (though a walleye, yes a walleye, would have been icing on the cake).
As for the dad who let his kids play unattended by high, cold, open water, shame on you. It was bad enough they lacked manners and threw rocks all around where people fished, but I’m scared to think what would have happened had one or more of them fell in.
Hopefully for a Father’s Day present, someone will buy you some common sense.
Doug Monson is a Free Press copy editor. He can be reached at (507) 344-6352 or by e-mail at dmonson@mankatofreepress.com.
Copyright © 1999-2008 cnhi, inc.
Photos
Doug Monson