Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Respect

My grandfather was a farmer. He was also a fisherman, but I wouldn't call him an angler as he preferred fishing with nets. And he caught a lot of fish in his lifetime. Those fishes he caught were the meat; he fished because his family needed it. But he loved it.

As long as I can remember I've always been greatly interested in fishing. Never the nets, which was a disappointment for him I am sure, but the angling. In my childhood, we spend the summers at my grandfather's farm, and I fished most of the time. I caught only a fraction of what my grandfather caught.

There is a single moment in my life that I remember my grandfather best, it was the moment when I landed a big pike and my grandfather was there, and he looked at me and said finally with certain respect in his voice “Well Olli, it looks like you are fisherman after all.”



It still feels good.

5 comments:

Flytimes said...

Nice story Olli. Good stuff.
Wyatt

opax said...

Thanks Wyatt.

The Mad Fishicist said...

my grandfather asked me once if i was a hunter or a fisherman. i think of it every time i'm fishing. and when i'm hunting.

thanks for the story.

opax said...

How did you reply to him?

The Mad Fishicist said...

i told him i hoped to keep my foot in both doors.