We arrived at our Honey Hole and quickly unpacked the car and got our gear set up. Within no time, we had our lines in the water. The bites came quick and steady, but each time we tried to set the hook, we came up empty. Obviously the bait stealers were out in full force. We were going to have to really be on our game if we were going to catch any fish.
My boy and I each surveyed the situation and staked out our places on the dock. The fight was on and we each wanted to be the first person to bring a big one up on the dock. I cast my line into one of my favorite spots, and in no time, I had one on the line. Anticipating a big catch, I told my son to get ready with the net. I vigorously reeled in my catch, anticipating the moment when I would see that trophy fish come up out of the water. As the line inched closer to the dock, I was smack talking to my son about what a great fisherwoman his Mom was. And then, it happened. The fish broke the surface of the water and...it was the SMALLEST fish I had ever seen! Big K started laughing at my 11 inch, 7 oz. redfish. He called my fish a baby and asked if it needed a bottle. I quickly tagged the fish, reminded my son that we didnt' say "biggest" fish wins, and threw it back in the water.
For my son's benefit, I bragged about my catch and how I was at least on the board while he had not managed to reel one in yet. Inside though, I was unhappy. How did I, someone who is known to bring in 30-40 inch redfish on a consistent basis, only manage to bring in a tiny catch? I was angry. I wanted my big fish and I would stop at nothing to get it.
Over the course of the next three hours, my son and I went through a lot of bait. He hooked what was most likely a world record sized lady fish that managed to break his line. I hooked several things that I never got a look at, and brought one croaker, even smaller than my redfish, onto the dock. Discouraged and disappointed, I told Big K that it was time to pack up for the day. I was bummed out about my lousy performance.
And then it happened. My son, with his big blue eyes misty, asked if we could stay for just a few more minutes so that he might try to catch one more fish. You see, in his eyes, it didn't matter that I hadn't caught a big fish. What mattered was that I had caught a fish, 2 fish to be exact. In that moment, my whole attitude changed. I felt very childish for being so ungrateful about my catch. I felt like a bad Mom for worrying more about bringing my own fish on the deck than helping my son land a fish (but for the record, he is an excellent fisherman and probably wouldn't have taken any help from me). And, I realized something very important. In fishing, it doesn't always have to be about bringing in "the big one". Sometimes, most times, fishing should just be about enjoying what you are doing. It doesn't matter if you catch a big fish or a small fish. Maybe it doesn't even have to matter if you catch a fish at all. Maybe what matters is the time spent outdoors, enjoying God's creation, spending time away from screens and the technology filled world we live in. Maybe what is important is that I DIDN'T catch" the big one", because it gave me the opportunity to be thankful that I caught a fish at all. And at the end of the day, isn't that what fishing is all about? Isn't it about perfecting a beautiful craft, and having the sense of accomplishment at a job well done?
