While fishing was when I discovered just how patient my Papa was. I actually remember thinking one time, "Why in the world does he let us come fishing with him? He spends all of his time getting us untangled, and he doesn't even get a chance to do what he loves so much." Maybe I misunderstood what it was that he loved so much.
It seems like just yesterday that I stood hot and sweaty, with spoon in hand, as he towered over me. Standing at that old enamel sink, scraping the scales back against their natural growth and watching them fly through the air (often times landing on my arms and face). The smell of fish lingering on my hands for what seemed like days along with the strand of mosquito bites down my legs that I couldn't stop scratching. (Which then made my legs smell like fish too.)
When my Papa got sick, I reflected on what it was about him that I admire and would miss so much. I decided that if I could marry someone that was half of the man he was, I would be happy. Little did I know that Phillip would come calling, and I would find him, too, honest, trustworthy, dedicated, patient, kind, hardworking, simple, and loving. The funny thing is, Phillip is also a carpenter (like my Papa), and he too loves to fish.
And in case you didn't know, lemon pie is a must when fish is on the menu. If you don't have a recipe of your own that you love, try out our Southern Pies cookbook!