Sunday, April 23, 2017
What a hoot the last few years have been since the arrival of my newest fishing partner. I get a little less sleep and my back aches more than I let on but as anyone with children will tell you, it's all worth it.
I named my daughter Sawyer which was a nod to my Grandpa Jim, aka Super Grandpa to me. He was a WWII veteran who was deployed overseas to France and then Germany having crossed the Remagen bridge. He was returned to the US after loosing an arm in crossfire somewhere in the Black Forest of Germany. A few months before his death I asked him to tell me which novel he remembered most fondly from his childhood. He told me Mark Twain's novel, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. In honor of that moment we shared I named my daughter Sawyer.
She is my joy. Before Sawyer's arrival, I remember thinking that having kids would ruin fly fishing. Fortunately I was wrong and while my adventures are a little less far flung and frequent they are just as joyful and rewarding. I've mentioned before that fly fishing can be a lonely endeavor and I used to reveled in that solitude. Now I take pleasure in sharing a snack of gold fish crackers with my rugrat attached to my back as we tromp along the bank looking for fish. I've exchanged quietness for giggles and stillness for the plunking of pebbles into pools. All ruckus doesn't seem to bother the fish in the least as I am hardly a threat anymore. I haven't had any 20 fish days in months and months but my arms still get a workout from lifting my little towhead up to look for eggs in a bird nest or to help her leap over a fallen log. I smile more now and I have someone to smile with. We are just starting our adventures together I remind myself often. Someday maybe she'll out fish me but until that day comes I'll gladly do all the heavy lifting.