Forward March Toward Father’s Day
It’s less than a week away, Father’s Day. So many men, young and old, have a mixed bag of blessings and less than, when it comes to their paternal luck of the draw. I am no different, other than my current stroke of luck has been a blessing to me for more than fifty years now.
In case you are counting, fifty years is a long time. I’ve had a lot of dogs and a few wives, which is another place I count my blessings these days. My twenty-five years of relational and marital success – I count among and atop all my other blessings – these days. It may be rare that you guys have ever heard this, but if you have a wife that saves your life (I will use this trendy word) literally, you probably should make sure you are ready to step up and do the same for her, again I will say, “literally.”
One thing these landmark celebrations call for, in my world, is consideration and extended introspection. The losses creep up on us, and intrude unexpectedly and unwanted. There will be no more Mother’s Day cards I have to remember, rush out and find, send off and then remember to make that phone call she so richly deserved. “We don’t know what we’ve got ’til it’s gone,” do we?
It is still amazing how much was lost – across the board – when my Mom left, after an unexpected and protracted battle, one that no one wins. Chunks and nuggets of history and time I thought I had accurately stored away, I now call up and wonder about … but I have no one here to confirm-or-deny their authenticity. Imagine that. Things I forgot? And you will eventually forget too. They will no longer be re-minded by her, and no one else in this world knows. Imagine that.
And those small mental losses start to form a little pile in the corner of my mind. They are one of the driving forces behind other stories I tell, in other places as well, using different – disparate words from what you find here in the fly fishing world you inhabit here with me. And it (this little pile) is one of the things that has lead to the “Wholistic Fly Fisher,” a project that has little to gain and a lot of time to take.
This is one of those weeks, when all the balls are in the air. “The Wholistic Fly Fisher©” journal has reams of words ready to go, but not yet complete in their visual concept, much less execution. The core: Fly fishing? Yes, there may be a lake somewhere near, say within a hundred miles, that has not suffered once again from these most recent (now summer) storms. There’s the attention to shipping sold framed art to New York City. There’s the Father’s Day day looming, and much more … but what about YOU?
I know many of you have great, and maybe only one, father! And a lot of you have great stories that go with them, even some fly fishing stories – I hope. I would love to read those stories, or you can feel free to call me, and tell them to me. I have a few OLD fishing stories, before fly fishing, that maybe deserve translation, less for entertainment than for keeping that pile of mental losses over in the corner of my mind down and manageable – like a pile of clean clothes that need hanging up, and putting away.
END NOTE: Somehow the “thrill” of assembling yet another of my own “Best Fly Fishing Gifts for Dad” list this year? IT just isn’t getting it for me. Maybe you have seen one-too-many of those as well. You can pick from dozens of those lists. Maybe you saw them here! It seems to me we are entering a time in the fly fishing industry and in fly fishing sociology where retail consumption (for me sales) pales in comparison to the desire to create and consume with greater meaning. Even the misunderstood role I had starting the business Los Pescadores on South Padre Island, had as its main goal and guide, “… to create community,” as its touchstone principal when I embarked on that adventure in 2022. My biggest question? Where is this fly fishing “community,” and how does one join in?
