Thursday, October 10, 2019

Fishing at Coyote Lake

In the early 1990s my parents used to go to Coyote Lake in their motor home.  One summer, I remember, they stayed there for a couple of months with my two oldest sons, Billy and Devon.  (I miss them greatly.)  I went down and saw them at the lake several times during that summer.  I had to work but I got down there when I could.  Weekends.

This morning, about 20 years since the last time I at that lake, Anselm and I went fishing down there.  It was strange for me.  I loved being with Anselm (He caught a bass on a crawdad lure but it was two small to keep). but I was also sad because of my first two sons.  We saw three different flocks of turkeys (one was mostly Gould's variety but the others looked like Rio Grand variety.  I was surprised to see such sharp distinctions.) a covey of quail, several mule deer, and a bobcat.  but no coyotes.

Sometimes, it seems like I have had too many lives.  Everything and everywhere is full of memories.

Anselm and I are going to make a regular thing out of Thursday mornings, I think.  I am able to arrange my work schedule so that I don't have to be anywhere until 2pm on Thursdays, and that is fine for fishing.  I am very happy about that.

1 comment:

GretchenJoanna said...

I don't feel like I've had too many lives, but it truly is an adjustment, a constant struggle, to live in this one and not in the past, which seemed when I was in that era to just be "the way life is." Since my husband died I am in a new life, it seems, even though I still do many of the same things. It must have been hard to be at the lake and campground with so many memories, to be fully in the present.

I wonder if I will ever work out this dilemma. I have so many moments that are full of joy and happiness, but under it all is this sadness, missing what was. Sometimes I remember to look toward that glorious Day when Christ will gather all together... Then, do the next thing.