The race of Aragorn and Faramir

Numenorean


To which race of Middle Earth do you belong?
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Since I'm too lazy...

to post something of my own. I am outright gonna steal a post from the Blog Running on Coffee.

Here is The Fishing Lesson.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005
The Fishing Lesson

My grandfather fought in two wars in his time in the Army, WW2 and Korea. He was wounded 5 times between the two wars. He held the Purple Heart and the Bronze Star. I want to share something my sister wrote shortly after our grandfather passed away last year. With Veteran's Day approaching, I thought it appropriate.

The Fishing Lesson

I could never figure out as a child why my grandfather loved fishing so much. It was fun to go with him as a kid every now and then, but I could never understand why he went day after day. It wasnt until I went fishing with him last April that I finally knew. It was a cloudless day the last time my grandfather ever went fishing. I had promised him two years earlier that I was going to take him fishing. He couldnt go out on his boat by himself anymore and so he did wait patiently for two years for me to come home. The last time I was home, before we even knew he was sick I knew in my heart that I had to take him. My grandfather, my dad, my nephew and I spent four hours on that lake that day without a single nibble all day long. Not a tug, not even a little pull on our lines. The one thing I do remember about that day is how the water was so calm. It was like glass all day long. It was calm and serene and I cant remember a day in the last seven years of my life that was so calm and peaceful. There are two things that I could never figure out about my grandfather. One was his love for fishing and the other was that besides a few comical antidotes about his wartime experiences you would have never known that he was on Normandy beach that day in 1944 and later went to Korea. He was never sad like a man who had seen so much war. I saw only a glimpse of war in 1999, 2002, and 2003 and it still makes me sad sometimes. I realized that day, that he fished not for the chance to catch anything, but for quiet, still moments like those we shared that day. And I also realized that he wasnt sad because he had us, his family. His family had been his salvation all of those years. I knew this because of all of the veterans in the VA hospital he was one of the few that had family next to him every minute of every day. After fishing my grandfather dropped all three of us off at the dock so we could prepare the truck to put the boat back on it. He trolled away from the dock, and as I thought he would turn the boat around to come back in he kept trolling out past the buoys. Once he got past the buoys I saw him turn his hat backward and open up his boat for the last time. Maybe he knew in his heart too. And so for a few minutes he sped across the lake all while a gorgeous Texas sunset was fading behind him. There were no boats on the water that day, and he flew across the calm water with nothing in his way. It was just him and his lake. Thats how ill always remember him. I wont remember him with all of the tubes coming out of him, or his lack of hair from the chemo. Ill remember him teaching me a lesson that day. To remember whats important and why I do fight all of these wars, and what will take me through my nightmares and memories. My family.
We didnt catch anything that day, but it didnt matter to any of us.
We were together and no big bass can ever beat that.
My grandfather passed away on Saturday. Called back to duty by his commander in chief in heaven.

Theres no doubt in my mind where he's at right now.

Hes on lake.

Fishing.

hooah, grandpa.