Fishing in the Dark

I was about seven years old when my father took me fishing. I didn’t mind getting up while it was still dark. I was too excited to sleep anyway. We jumped into his beat up old pick-up and drove off down the dusty, bumpy road. I knew that morning was special when he bought me a honey bun at the gas station. We normally didn’t have the money for such a luxury. Back on the highway, I chattered endlessly about the passing scenery, the brightness of the moon, and how cool it was to be awake before the sun. My father just sipped his coffee and smiled.

We finally arrived at the lake. My father had helped build the new boat dock, so as a perk; his boss let him use the canoe. Daddy gently took my hand and helped me into my seat. I’d never been in a canoe and I was terrified. I gripped the sides tightly as he eased the wobbly canoe into the water. This was not what I had in mind. What if we tipped over?

We glided further into the lake. As I took in the magic of the clear quiet night, I forgot to be scared. My father silently pointed as a doe and her fawn sipped water and watched as we sailed past.

My father finally stopped rowing as we neared the middle of the glassy lake. He showed me how to bait my hook and cast my line with the symphony of the crickets and bullfrogs in the background. I don’t know how long we sat in silence, waiting for a nibble. Finally, one of the red and white bobbers jerked. I had caught my very first fish! My father helped me reel him in. He was about the size of my father’s hand. I begged to keep it and have Mom cook it for dinner. Daddy laughed and slipped him into our bucket of water to take him home.

As the sky began to brighten, my father declared it was time to go. He had caught two decent sized fish, but I never caught another. We took our prizes to the truck and I marveled at my first sunrise. When we got home, my mother had breakfast ready and the younger kids were just waking up. My father and I proudly showed off our catch and took them out back to clean them. I tried to watch and learn but didn’t have the heart for it. He laughed and shooed me back inside to help Mom with the dishes.

When we sat down to dinner that night, I proudly ate my treasure, never realizing that my father had gone to the store to supplement our catch with frozen fish. Of course those three tiny fish would not be enough for the whole family.

As I look back on that dark morning, I realize I learned more than how to bait a hook and cast a line. I learned how much my father loved me and how to make a memory. My father and I have never talked about our quiet morning alone, without the rest of the children, but I have never forgotten.

This morning, I smiled as my daughter marveled at her first sunrise and planned our dinner of the first fish she ever caught. Of course, I will have to sneak to the store so we will have enough for everyone.