I used to chuckle to myself when I’d hear the stories from the old timers about how being on the water was their church; it was their time with God. “That’s just a clever way to get to go fishing and not have to put on a tie” I’d say to myself. Perhaps that was my ignorant young sarcastic view on the matter, or perhaps I was jealous that my dad or uncle got to go out fishing when I went to church with Mom. All those years and I never really got it; never understood what people were talking about. Yesterday changed my mind on that.
I haven’t had the opportunity to fish recently as I’ve had family issues going on over the last month. As some of you may know, my father passed away June 16th and to say the least, its been a tough struggle up to this point for me and my family. We found out in the beginning of June that he had lung cancer, and he only lasted a few more weeks after that. The results from the biopsy hadn’t even come back from the lab yet when he passed.
We never had a great relationship; like all fathers and sons to some extent, there was a lot of head butting and "you can’t tell me what to do"s and threats of leaving home at 18, but we always worked it out. And when growing up it seemed like we had no common ground to stand on, we always had fishing to talk about. That was an easy way for us to relate. He loved it. I loved it. It worked for us. We never really talked that much about feelings or what this life was all about or anything like that, but we talked about fishing. And that’s what kept us close; that’s what kept us together and talking and sharing. In the end, that’s what family is all about; sharing in each others lives, their triumphs and their downfalls, victories and defeats.
I remember days with dad in the late 80s, early 90s catching redfish after redfish on the James Island bridge and filling up a five gallon bucket before heading home to let mom cook em up. I remember walking to the end of Folly Beach what seems like hundreds of times with my dad to go surf
“If the Arabs put down their weapons today, there would be no more violence. If the Jews put down their weapons today, there would be no more Israel .” Benjamin Netanyahu
Ricky sorry to hear about your Dad. I can say that you have a way with words. I can see my Dad’s and I’s relationship through yours. It is about the same. Head Butting all the way. Thanks for waking me up today. I just got off the phone with my Dad and ended the phone call with “I love you Pops”.
Thanks again Ricky.
Great job on the fish by the way.
Going to Church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.
You are the offspring of 5 monkeys having But Secs with a retarded fish squirrel. CONGRADULATION!!!
Ricky, I did not know your father and did not know he was sick. I post these in his memory and look forward to spending tomorrow with one of the finer men on this forum tomorrow…
Sorry to hear about your Dad, Ricky. This reminded me of the time that I arrived home to hear that Dad had cancer. I was on my way back to Vietnam. He had cancer of the lung and was awaiting the results to see if he also had it in his liver. He was given 30 days to live if he had it in liver also. I was reassigned to Ft Jackson, got a call 2 weeks later that he wasnt expected to live. I sped home however he was gone before I arrived back in Port Royal.
I also remember all the times that we fished together. This is where I got my love to fish. Those were some enjoyable times. Later after joining the Army meant I didnt get to spend as much time with him.But every time I came home on leave, he and I would be fishing.Fishing was Dads time in church on Sundays while I also went to church with Mom.
You bought back some enjoyable times with my Dad. Thanks Ricky.
We are going straight out, then bottom fishing somewhere near the ledge…depends on when the crew gets fed up with slinging chickens or we run out of ballyhoo. We stay on 68 most of the time, but I’ll call you tomorrow. Should be trolling by 7ish.
Don’t know you or your dad or your family. If I did though, we’d probably be friends. Sounds like we’re cut from the same cloth. While everyone deals with the passing of those that are close with us differently it sounds like you’re doing well. I once had a dream that I could only see the backs of the heads of four fishermen in a boat that was cruising down the ICW. The boat pulled up to a dock and the four men tied up, grabbed their catch and got out. As they walked up the dock and turned the corner to go up to the house I saw both my grandfathers, my cousin and my uncle. I was elated and tried calling out to them but they kept walking without turning back. They stepped off of the dock and on to the oyster shell path that led up to the house. I watched as they walked up onto the porch where I saw my grandmother waiting for them with a pan for the fish. my great aunt was rocking in a chair on the porch with a drink in her hand. As I stood where the dock met the oyster shell path I watched my cousin turn around, smile and wave. When I woke up I remembered the dream as if I was right there. While I don’t know what heaven is like…if it’s different than that, I’m not so sure I want to go.
Sorry to hear about your dad…I believe you’ll see him again though.
If you’re not effecting the world around you in a positive manner…you’re taking up too much space.
Thank you everyone for the kind words. I appreciate it. The Charleston Fishing community seems enormous at times, but situations like this remind you that we’re all in this thing together.
Very nice post and one many of us can relate to with our dads. I have friends that don’t always understand why I do not take them fishing more or take them up on their invites, but it boils down to most of the time, that my dad is the first person ask to go most of the time and if he cannot go I ask a friend. Ricky your post reminds many how precious this time is and how we need to appreciate every moment and sunrise or sunset we get to share. I am sorry for your loss.
