The Catch of a Lifetime

Today was my 56th birthday. So this afternoon, I decided to cap a quiet day with a little fishing. While heading out the door, I grabbed my prized straw hat that my son, Morgan gave me as a birthday present two years ago.  He bought it for me while we were on a family vacation in Cherokee, NC. It's a quality hat but if you know me, anything my kids give me is worth it's weight in gold.  

Often at Christmas time or on my birthday, I will immediately put on anything they give me and will often wear it with the tags still on it for weeks.  

So you can imagine the sheer terror when a gust of wind  blew it off my head and into Lake Norman.

I hadn't caught a thing and to add insult to injury there set my prized hat bobbing up and down on the water.

The symbolism was almost overwhelming and began to break me as cast after cast I came up empty handed. The frustration started to build. The sun was in my face and  made it hard to see especially when tears began to well up in my eyes. Some might say it's just a hat.

For me, it was a microcosm of parenthood. For most of their lives, I always kept my kids within reach. In the blink of an eye, they have spread out from coast to coast. Begrudgingly, I allow them to pursue their dreams wherever it may lead. To make matters worst, covid has also upended our lives. We had to shelter in different places because of various health concerns. And this year, we had to forgo our annual fourth of July family vacation - a promise I force them to keep.  Through no fault of theirs, you feel like they are drifting away.

No, I wasn't going to let Morgan's birthday gift go that easily. 

There it sat. I was amazed it stayed on top of the water. Thankfully, it landed right side up so there must have been enough air trapped underneath preventing it from sinking into this deep area near our community dock.

After several near misses with my fishing line and lure, I paused and said out loud, "Lord, don't let me loose this hat."

A few cast later, I hooked the back end of the hat and began to reel it in. The now soggy hat was heavier that any fish I had ever caught on the 8 pound test line. To keep from breaking the line, I slowly cranked the handle and ever so carefully lifted it over the rocks that lined the bank.

Sometimes, it seems like families are held together by the thinnest of  threads.  You wonder are you doing all you do to keep them close to you.  Shamefully, in brief moments of doubt, I wonder do they even need me any more?

The good thing about my pity parties is I don't throw them often and the ones I do aren't well attended.  I'll keep making the cast over and over again because as they say anything worth having is worth fighting for.