Awesome

I think every kid goes through it. That point when their daddy becomes awesome in their eyes. Before that time, dads are just there, being taken for granted. Then something happens that amazes, astounds, or otherwise impresses the child. For me, it was when Dad took me fishing for the first time. I was about seven years old at the time. We were living in Colorado, Uncle John lived less than an hour away, and Grandma Fields lived across the fence from us. Dad and Uncle John had planned a fishing outing for our families. We all piled into our respective cars and headed into the mountains. I remember seeing my cousins rigging their lines and heading into the woods in search of the perfect fishing spot. I was kind of jealous, and also impressed. Maybe someday I would be able to have that level of skill and independence. Anyway, Dad and I headed up the stream for a ways, then crossed a very muddy meadow, and came up by a small pond. There were (to me) tall bushes all around the pond, so that my only view of it was through openings in the brush. Dad could see over them. He told me that he could see some fish in the pond. Instructing me to be very quiet, he showed me how to put a worm on a hook. Then he cast it out for me, and handed me the rod. Luckily, it was a fly rod so it was long enough to keep the line out of the bushes. Dad watched as several fish (invisible to me behind the brush) investigated the worm, and gave me play-by-play narration. Then he instructed me to jerk the rod and I was connected to a fish! It probably only took a few seconds for me to reel it in, but it felt like a long time. Soon, a small fish lay at our feet. It couldn't have been much over six inches in length, but it was my first fish. Dad pulled out his sheath knife and showed me how to clean the fish. (The knife was longer than my fish was.) He put the fish into his creel, and we made our way back to join the others. My cousins had caught some fish, too. There were more of them, and they were bigger than mine, but I didn't seem to mind. Daddy had taught me how to fish! I thought he was awesome, because he could tell what the fish were going to do, and how to make them eat my worm. We ate a picnic lunch, and then had to go home. We used to go to my grandmother's cabin for Sunday dinner. It must have been a Sunday when I caught that fish, because I remember that Grandma cooked my fish for me. It didn't take up a lot of room on the plate, I remember. There were, of course, other happenings in my life that reminded me of just how awesome Dad was. Watching him control an airplane when he took me flying, building the famous "box", even driving across the country and finding our destination with no apparent difficulty. All of these (and more) made lasting impressions on me. I think what impressed me most about Dad was that he never "failed". He might have some "bumps in the road occasionally", but he never let them keep him from his objective. He never gave up. And because of that, my Dad was awesome.