Savoring Memories

I looked up at the ceiling in my garage and there were my old friends waiting for me. They look like their busting to get out and get involved again. But for the present moment they are covered with a lot of dust and the cob webs that are thick after only 5 months.

My old friends? My fishing rods and tackle box are my friends and they are ready.

For the fun of it I pulled some of it down and held then in my hand. The rush to go fishing was there immediately. My hands started to grip the rod tighter and the weight of the old tackle box felt so good.

In the tackle box are more old friends. The red and white Lucky Strike plug has teeth marks all down the side from multiple, successful times of dipping the deep. Just looking at that old fellow brought back the rush again. It was very successful the day that Alida and I were in the little boat at Hearst, Ontario. I caught 12 Northern Pike and she caught 38. No kidding 38 big fish! We quit when her arm started getting tired. And she did get more than me – because my job was to take off the fish from the hooks… I couldn’t get my line in the water because I heard, “Oooo Oooo I got another one!”
Then there is the small collection of much finer hooks with simple paraphernalia attached to attract the fish… all that is needed is a live worm. This little one with the yellow tail is a no-name brand but did it ever produce fish. That one day on the trout filled river was one of the excellent adventures of that summer.

Oh man I can’t wait.

The best part about fishing is that you remember everything… every detail… every sound… every tug on the line and just everything!

The best part is that you remember.

Yesterday as I sat in my garage looking at the stuff that is waiting for summer – even more memories came.

There is my dad’s pliers and wrench set. That day I brought my old Model T car home and began the restoration on it dad had let me use these tools to start taking the car apart. I was sixteen and had never done anything mechanically bigger than repair my bicycle.

As I held the tools 49 years of rich memories rushed back – even the smell of that old car was there yesterday. Along with it was another one – the last few times I talked to my dad was 22 years ago these next few months. He was always interested in what I was doing. As I held the tool that he had written his name on with a scribing tool – lots of sadness came back too.

I laid down the wrench and picked up the Brass Vice. There was some sadness to this tool but also some rich memories. Norm had given this to me just before he had passed away saying, “Murray, I know that you like to fish, I want you to have all my Fly Fishing stuff.”

The Brass Vice is an antique worth a fortune. It is portable and goes with you to the edge of the stream… easily set up and then helps you to tie “flies” that match what the local fish are eating.

I remember that first series of “flies” that I tried. They were weird – not at all graceful like the book’s photo. But when I presented it that magic day – I had four fish hit it out of five presentations on that lily pad cove.

I love remembering. I love the feeling that comes with something old.

Oh boy…

This may well be the last few days of my “Cabin Fever” that came with the very cold weather, lots of snow… and no place to get out much.

It is only about 5 or 6 weeks before the first summer birds will be back. The Robins are booking reservations now. Below the snow and the earth of my wife’s flower garden is that rich soil holding enough worms for Mr. Robin and my fish friends.

Oh the memories… sweet and wonderful memories.

~ Murray Lincoln ~
PS – this was written for no other reason than to get you ready for memory making days ahead. Have a great one!