Every Day in May Writer’s Challenge Topics List Day by Day

My youngest son, at 9 years old, already comfortable in a tube and catching fish bigger than I catch today. I got him there, prepared him, nurtured him, encouraged and praised. He gave me a memory. (1999)

This is difficult…’memory’? Do I recount the many blessed memories on the water, in the outdoors? Or discuss my dwindling recollection capacity of late. On one end the memories are coming in and on the other end, there is a leak of sorts. The memories fade and some stay prominent for whatever reasons.

Fortunately, I have glimpses of memories of my own early fly fishing. Small, brief snippets of narrow, intimate streams with overhanging trees, little pockets beneath the tree harboring Cutthroat Trout. I can see the trout slashing upward to take the fly. The process was simpler then: rubberized canvas hip boots, a box, an inexpensive Sears & Roebuck “Ted Williams” rod/reel. I made due with the waters my dad took me near while camping. There were no day trips. Fishing was confined to camping outings, year to year.

Later, I would be in charge of my own destiny and memory creation. Fishing at times was three times a week. Day outings for Steelhead, Salmon and Trout were frequent and productive. Camping, always by selected waters was and still is the norm. Backpacking was for an end point of Brook Trout. A hike had a pack, hiking boots and a fly rod. Joyful, productive, full of memories for sure.

My youngest son a few years back on East Lake (Oregon). Quite at ease.

Soon, I would bring three sons along and all by eight or nine years of age could fly fish on a lake or stream and catch their memories of Trout, Steelhead or Salmon. Today, I notice my son’s lives are busy, complex and denying them much time on the water. I hope that changes for them beyond the once a year camping trip to wet a line. They need their time on the water, in the water, staring at the water to distract and renew.

I do know my teaching, encouraging, mentoring those I care about in the sport has been most rewarding in a self serving way. I was going to say non-selfish, but truth be told, I  taught my loved ones so I would have company while fishing. It is limiting to be fishing knowing others are waiting back at camp or the rig for your return. The clock ticks. The clock doesn’t exist if they are twenty yards down river or across the lake solving their puzzle.

I do wish my memory was better. It is not an indication of caring or worthiness. Things are just fuzzier. Memories stored, and no one to prompt the retrieval or reminder via “do you remember that time when……..” I have kept journals and have taken many photo’s. Those are excellent tools to recall the memory. So, I need to keep creating the memories on the front end…so do you!

Tomorrow’s Every Day in May Challenge Topic: Shoreline