Planting Memories of Love

When ever you plant love in a child

it will stay with them for a lifetime.

ginny T.

  Early morning memories take me back to a time when I was just a young child. 

  Sitting on the white sandy bank of the Myakka River as a young towheaded little girl. My grandfather, a kind, tall, strong and handsome man was looking down at me with a smile.

  He was making a fishing pole out of cane. I looked on in amazement as he cut the cane and then stuck the pole into the sand saying, "Now we need to make one for you." 

You can only imagine my delight as I watched my very own fishing pole being made. There was not a whole lot of talking going on at the time, just watching. 

  My grandfather put his rugged hand into his pocket and pulled out a spool of line. He proceeded to tie a piece of line onto the top of each of the poles he had just made. Then he looked at me again with an even bigger smile than before as he reached into his pocket a second time. This time he pulled out a tiny tin box. In it there were lead weights and small fish hooks. Watching quietly, he pinched the lead weights onto each fishing line and then tied the small hooks onto the ends of the lines.

  Two cane poles stuck out of the sand one thick and long the other short and thin.

Two quiet souls enjoying time without words. That was me and my Grandfather in this moment.

  Looking at each other with big smiles, my grandfather pulled my pole out of the sand. He showed me how to put a worm on my hook. (That fascinated me and I could not wait to put my own worm onto the hook.)  Then he placed the clear line into the brackish water and handed the pole to me. As I sat very quietly holding my very own fishing pole my grandfather began teaching me how to hold my pole with one hand while playing with the line with the other hand. It was not long before I felt a tiny tug on the end of my line and I pulled back. "I caught one! I got a fish!"

  My grandfather smiling with a small chuckle exclaimed,"Good one!" He then placed his index finger to his lips and said," quiet now, we have more fish to catch. We don't want to scare them away." My grandfather and I sat for hours quietly watching each other, listening to the sounds around us, enjoying the quiet, enjoying just being, enjoying the time together.

  My Grandfather and I caught many fish that day. They were a small white meat, boney fish called a bream. I watched my grandfather clean all the fish and fry them up in an iron skillet. 

When the fish were cooked we sat around a table with family and eat as my grandfather and I shared our fishing story. 

  I've always remembered this time with my grandfather as very special. As I was writing this story from my childhood prospective and then reread it, I began to see my grandfathers heart, the heart of a grandparent. 

  My grandfather planted a seed of gentleness and love that day. I did not know it at the time and maybe I did not fully understand just how import this day was until now.

  You see my younger brother had recently died in a freak car accident. He was just seven years old and I was the older sister at age nine. Time has a way of showing us things when we least expect it. Now a grandparent myself I am able to see this story with a brand new perspective.
A gentle man who's heart had to be bleeding for his daughter and her family, reached out in a simple yet perfect way. By giving rest to the weary and comfort to the lost, he gave unconditional love with out a word or expection.

Council Smith

                         To all those grandparents out there, Thank you for loving us so well.