Fishing with Dad

I’ve been having more than my fair share of those moments lately. The moments that take your breath away. The moments you want to savor and memorize so you can replay them later in your mind.

I think I’m more in-tune with these moments because I feel a season is ending for our family. In August both of my kids will be in school all day. They aren’t babies any longer and it’s time to move on to the next phase of life.

I can’t freeze the clock, so I figure I have two choices. I can either go kicking and screaming into the next phase or I can relish the present for what it is and journey with an open mind into this new season. So evolved of me, right? I’m sure actuality will be somewhere in the middle, but I’m at least going to aim for approaching the next phase with some measure of grace.

Now, back to those “moments” I was talking about. As I was straightening up the living room at the end of the day last week, I looked out the window and saw this picture:

My husband was outside teaching our kids how to fish.

Such a simple thing, really.

But it’s really not about the fishing, is it?

It’s about the time.

It’s about the patience.

It’s about the investment in the relationship.

It’s about the joy in being together.

Sometimes it’s even about cutting down 15 tree branches instead of swearing each time a line gets caught in a tree. 🙂

My husband often gets the short-end of the straw. When he comes home from work, he sees the kids at the worst possible time of the day – right before bed. The kids are tired and as a result, their behavior can suffer.

I get to spend more time with them when they are full of energy and cooperation. I see plenty of “lows” – trust me. But, I get to see more of the “highs” than he does.

I know from experience that coming home at the end of the day from work can kind of be like arriving late to a party. You’re not sure what the mood of the party is going to be, but you can be guaranteed that you have missed out on something.

So when my husband gets to experience one of those “high” moments, especially when I’m simply an observer to the occurrence, my heart soars.

Some dads will teach their children how to fish.

I’m thankful for a husband that enjoys spending time teaching his kids how to fish.

A season may be ending, but what we’ve experienced this season goes on to the next. My kids will have happy memories. They’ll have confidence in new-found skills. They’ll have security in knowing they are loved.