Fishing jogs memories of time with friends, family

There comes a time in everyone’s life when doing something you love becomes lost. It may become lost due to apathy. Sometimes you just don’t enjoy something the way you used to. I used to love getting up early on Saturday mornings and watching cartoons – but now – I can do without.

Besides the indifference of getting up at 9:30 a.m. to watch Power Rangers, losing something you love may be out of your control. For instance, the 90-year-old woman who, in her younger days, loved to cook but no longer has the physical strength to use her famous fried chicken skillet. When this inevitable absence occurs, it makes us realize the old saying is nothing but the truth – You never realize how much you miss something until it’s gone.

I began my fishing adventures about six years ago. Every Saturday morning at 6 a.m., my best friend and I would go to Mosquito Lake and fish for hours. He and I learned how to fish on the southern banks of the Mosquito. This made our friendship stronger and is the reason I enjoy fishing so much today. The camaraderie we developed on those crisp early mornings is what I attribute to my love of fishing and ever-growing passion for the sport. Almost everyone who has fished in the past or still enjoys it today can reminisce on their first fishing experiences. For many, the person baiting hooks and congratulating caught blue gills is dad or grandpa.

I have fond memories of fishing with my gramps as well. These memories were formed in the more recent past, but are fond all the same. I usually fish for bass, which is much more demanding, so going out to the pond to relax, enjoy each other’s company and catch a bluegill dinner will always be a memory. The fact that this may never happen again makes me realize how much I miss it.

Getting sick is an inevitability of getting older and is proven to be the case regarding my gramps. His recent illness will make it difficult to have another fishing adventure with my sister and I.

We all have memories of family and friends that have become a part of who we are as people. Simple, unnoticed things become subtly engrained in our personalities. Something as small as fishing with my gramps is something I never realized could have such an impact. It was not the act of fishing, but that same camaraderie I developed at Mosquito Lake years ago. Fishing, indirectly, has become a piece of my being.

Regardless if I ever get to relive our time spent watching bobbers and telling stories long forgotten, the memory of those days will last a lifetime.