I know that I have not posted in a while. I have been trying to write this blog for a month now and have decided to do my best and just do it. I am scared that I will not due it justice. If it is a little hard to read, that is because it was hard to write especially through the tears.
One month ago today my granddaddy died. All that I am as a hunter and fisher is because of him. What I did not learn from him directly I learned from my dad, uncle and cousin who all learned what they know from him.
Granddaddy loved hunting and fishing. Even though he did not kill his big buck until about a year ago he hunted every chance that he got. He taught us to be patient and to love the outdoors. As much as he loved hunting it paled in comparison to his love for fishing.
If he could have lived on the water I think he would have. In fact the earliest memory that I have of fishing was on a trip with Granddaddy, Daddy, uncle Bobby and Ray. I remember meeting up at Granddaddy's house (right beside our house) to get the boats ready early that morning. The sun was just starting to come up and the morning doves were calling. It was a beautiful morning and it is one that I go back to in my mind to relax.
Then there was the days fishing in the Round Hole. Granddaddy, Ray and myself would load an old Jon boat into Granddaddies old truck and pile in and head to the creek. It was an old dirt put in point, it was not even a landing. Then we had to paddle about a mile and an half to two miles down the creek to the hole. Granddaddy would sit cross legged on the nose of the boat paddling and steering as me and Ray would try to plain off a 14 foot Jon boat with paddles. When we got to the hole we would we would always wear the fish out while he told us stories from his life.
I always planned to put those stories on paper or some sort of media but never did and now most of them have been lost except for the small pieces that Ray, William and myself can remember. They are one of the things that we will miss the most. Even though many of the trips have faded from my memory the parts of them that are the freshest are the stories. Stories about a life in a simpler time, and the fun and crazy things that were done to entertain themselves. Stories that make me wish that I had lived back then.
My granddaddy had many faults, I know that but he also had a great heart, a great love for the Lord and was a great teacher. I know that it will eventually get easier knowing that he is gone but I know that I will never get over it. I take solace in knowing that he is probably fishing somewhere in heaven right now with his brothers and his daddy and granddaddy. I am just making sure that I get to go and join him one day.Do you know where you are going?