Things I have never understood (But now I DO!)
– I remember when I used to think my Mom drank a lot of coffee!! Bahaha…..
“How can you drink coffee in the middle of the afternoon?!” I would ask my Mom over and over again. “I just don’t understand it!”
Two things now strike me as funny. One – having teenagers myself, I now understand they do not actually know as much as they think they do, nor do they need to; and Two – I drink coffee morning, day and night. (Thank you, flavored coffees and creamers!) It is delightful & I look forward to it. It’s about the bitterness and the sweetness of the beverage itself, but it’s also the aroma, the warmth and simply holding a favorite mug.
Amazing. Who knew?
My Dad sits and watches birds flock to his large number of bird feeders almost every day.
He has done this for years. “Boring!” I would think in disgust when I was in high school. Now, every morning as I enjoy my cup (cups) of coffee I look out my kitchen window or sit in our library and ooh and ahh over the different species of birds gathered around my small, but ever-growing collection of bird feeders. I tell my husband what the birds did to entertain me and he shakes his head and says, in good humor, “You’re all crazy.” Yes, I would agree. We are.
My parents would do things like have a pop or a drink in the late afternoon and have snacks like dips, crackers and cheese and pickled herring. Pickled Herring?! “Gross!” Today for lunch, I joyfully ate a large salad and half a jar of the spongy little fish fillets marinated in wine sauce and onions.
My Dad is an avid fisherman. It’s what he does. Every day, if possible.
Growing up, I loved to fish with him. I adored the attention and getting in the truck on a bright summer morning. I anxiously awaited the first nibbles and watching my bobber sometimes disappear completely underwater, tugged on desperately by a bass or walleye.
But, if the fish weren’t biting, I was ready to go. I was distracted. I was munching on the candy bars my dad had stowed away in his cooler along with his container of worms or sipping on the sugary soda that was sure to be in the Worm Bed-ice. (Worm bedding includes dirt and it doesn’t always stay in the container. Don’t suck on the ice!)
I would grab the book I had brought along and be fully entranced. My Dad would ask, “Are you watching? I think you got a bite!” “You missed it!” Often, I would wander off in search of more exciting prospects like turtles and frogs and even snails.
Now, I find fishing isn’t about the FISH.
it is the time spent in nature, by the water or with someone I adore. I don’t care if I’m getting bites or not. It’s about the quiet. It’s about the process. I could sit for hours. (But, my kids get “bored.”) Fortunately for them, I still love to hunt for turtles and frogs (snails are of no interest to me.) I do still tuck in a book, but I am more than content to just sit, watching my bobber gently pulse with the little waves, checking my worm, casting out and reeling the line in…
just for the mere solitude and reflection of being able.
Able to live.
Able to think and breathe and fish and love. Able to watch birds and eat pickled herring and drink massive amounts of coffee. Now, I understand. I’ve grown up. I get it. My kids Don’t. someday I hope they will and they’ll be able to laugh and grin and embrace that the times have changed, the seasons have moved on and it’s all about the perspective you have at the age or time you are in and
…it is all one big adventure!
Written by Sheila Jenkinson