Love

I thought I would reblog this for today. Happy Father’s Day to all!

Turn Around and Swim

When I was a little girl I would stare at a plaque in my dad’s “work room” (aka his lure tying, fish tournament trophy museum and his buddies gathering place) in our basement.  I couldn’t read the words but remember the wood engraved picture.  It was a man in a boat casting a fishing rod into a lake while a child sat next to him.  I can close my eyes and see that image as if the sawdust is falling right now.

As I grew older and was able to read, the words engraved on the plaque merely meant nothing to me.  In fact, as a young six-year-old, it didn’t make any sense.  I kept reading the engraved words in my head over and over with the hopes that one day it would make some sense.  I was too shy to ask my father what the saying meant.

At the time, to me, father…

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