Mr. Don lived down the street from my family in our old neighborhood, before we moved a few miles away into a different home. I have knows him since I was seven or eight and his granddaughter and I use to play with each other every weekend that she came down to visit.
The three of us would go out to his parent's pier and fish every weekend, but sometimes it was just the two of us. We use to always ride our bikes around the neighborhood or to the park, and I have so many memories that I can still see today. I wrote him a poem that I am sending down south. It's pretty amateur and sounds kind of childish, but I just want him to know how much he means to me.
Teachin’ Baby Girl to Fish
Saturday night out on the pier
Me with my coke, you with your beer.
Here we go with our poles and our bait
“Cast the line out Baby Girl, then just sit back and wait.”
You catch a Flounder on your very first try
Not one bite for me- the fish swim on by.
We relax in silence and stare at the silver moon
“Night time fishin’s the best Baby Girl, don’t worry, you’ll catch one soon.”
A tug on my line makes me jump up and scream
I reel that thing in like it’s my biggest dream.
But the line becomes lighter; I hang my head in shame and dismay
“I’m sorry Baby Girl, it seems that one got away.”
There’s another tug on your line- this one seems big!
But my empty hook needs more bait, so I open the bag of shrimp and dig
I pick the best one I can find,
“I’ll put it on the hook Baby Girl, hold on if you don’t mind”
But, oh no, miss prissy me
I can do it myself, you just wait and see.
Your huge fish plops down on the deck, but you stop dead once you see all that red
“Dag nabbitt, Baby Girl did you hear a word that I said?!”
My thumb was bleeding, it got pierced by the hook
You rush to my side as the big fish is floppin’, and gah lee that deck sure shook
You wrap up my pain in an old dirty rag
“Sorry Baby Girl, it’s either this or that smelly shrimp bag.”
I feel better already with Mr. Don there
But then I’m scared once I see that fish flop right off that dang pier.
The guilt is overwhelming once I hear your big heavy sigh
“Shh it’s okay Baby Girl, no need to cry.”
Through my tears, I’m surprised to see you smile
A fish like that won’t come by for quite a while.
You kiss my forehead and pat down my hair
“Baby Girl, always remember that life just ain’t fair.”
You want me to try again, at least one more time
I pick out the shrimp, and you put it on my line
I bring the pole back, and then fling it forward, determined for a fish to be caught.
“There you go Baby Girl, that’s the perfect spot.”
We wait and wait- gee this sure is hard
I’m secretly jealous when you catch your third
I stare at the water, wishing for that bite
“Be patient Baby Girl, hand on tight.”
Then there it was! I pulled hard, but boy was it rough
Good thing this little girl was tough
I reel that sucker in with all that I have left.
“Great job Baby Girl, be sure to catch your breath!”
You unhook it and almost gut it, but I want to set it free
I don’t know why, but the fish reminds me of me.
It’s small and it’s feisty, with so much spirit
“Whatever you want Baby Girl, if you wish, we can spare it.”
Off it goes back into that bay
Maybe someone else will catch it one day.
The little girl was sleepy, it was getting pretty late
“Let’s head home Baby girl, besides, we done out of our bait.”
Dozin’ off in your truck not aware how much this memory will one day stick,
Many years later when you become so very sick.
When you dropped me off, I can hear the words to this day,
“Goodnight Baby Girl, I love you. Good job fishing today"
Dritin’ to sleep, I think of your soft kiss on my forehead.
Quite some years later, I promise to keep in touch as I head off to school
“It’s no big deal Baby Girl, you’ll be too busy, I’m not some fool.”
Please know that memories of us are so very vivid
You are the person who taught me to be strong, and to never be timid.
We may not fish together again like I so badly wish,
But I will sure always remember, who taught Baby Girl how to fish.
There are so many moments I will always keep close to heart. The time that I fell on my bike when riding by myself and Mr. Don was pulling on the street in his truck and came to my rescue. Or the time he got the splinter out of my foot and I wouldn't let anyone else touch it but him. And the time I wanted to run away from home, and when I was walking past his house in my ratty pink nightgown with my small bag, he stopped me and convinced me to stay and chat for a bit before I decided to run off forever. We sat on the back of his pick up talking away and ,before I knew it, I chose to just go back home because I was hungry anyway.
The memories like those are the ones that just make me want to curl into a ball and try to relive them in my head. When he told me the news on the phone, and I told him I was coming home for Thanksgiving, my heart just about broke when he said, "Alright Baby Girl, I'll try to hang around until then."
Well Mr. Don, I pray to God that you do.
Until next time,
Snoodle Doodle Jr.
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