Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day

Today is Mother’s Day, so I decided what better time to write an article about Moms. Specifically my Mom. Not something sappy and sentimental, but just some recollections about a great lady.

My Dad was all about fishing and hunting. No golf, no tennis, no fancy cars. Nothing but hunting and fishing. So Mom, who dearly loved Dad, was game for whatever interested Dad. That seems about as good an example of true love as there is.

Mom tried hunting squirrels and rabbits on the farm with Dad, but there were a few “issues”. Issues such as her never having held a shotgun much less fired one. Basic gun safety such as not pointing the gun at Dad or the dogs, not sticking the barrel in the ground inadvertently, and the simple fact that, in her mind, she would be trying to kill cute little rabbits and squirrels. This pretty much eliminated hunting as a shared interest for both of them.

Fishing was another matter. Mom began by dutifully accompanying Dad whenever she could on fishing trips, whether they be to our “back forty” farm pond stocked with bluegill and largemouth bass or further afield on week long excursions to some destination in Wisconsin, Minnesota, or Canada.

Early on Mom needed instruction. That may be an oversimplified understatement to say the least. Mom had never fished. She did know you used a pole and line, but anything else was alien to her. She would have to be introduced to such abstract items as reels, terminal tackle, lures, bobbers, and certainly technique.

Dad, who was not known for his patience, amazed all of us kids when fishing with Mom – at least most of the time. He would set up an outfit, adjust the drag, bait the hook or put on the appropriate lure, and instruct Mom on how to fish so she would be able to contribute to the day’s catch for dinner. Only seldom would we hear, “Catherine, pay attention!”

Time and experience are wonderful things. By the time I was about 10 Mom was fishing with us whenever she could. While Dad was intense and competitive, Mom was relaxed and content to just take in nature’s magnificence. If she caught a keeper so much the better. If not, well it was still great to be outside and just enjoy the beautiful scenery.

Over the years our family vacationed in Wisconsin, Minnesota, and eventually Canada, always hunting for better fishing and bigger fish. Mom seemed to enjoy the travel as much as the fishing, and would always cook up whatever we caught  as if we were having the greatest banquet of our lives. She often would start fishing with us at the break of dawn and only when the sun was setting and the fish were being cleaned would she start on the evening’s meal. After dinner she would clean up, collapse in a chair of sofa, and tend to her flock with all the love she could muster. That was Mom.

After 23 years of marriage to Mom, Dad passed away from a prolonged illness. By this time he and Mom owned a nice cabin on Lake of the Woods at Nestor Falls in Ontario, Canada. The family figured that would be “it” for the cabin as well as Mom’s fishing. No Dad, probably no cabin or fishing. But it didn’t work out that way.

Many summers all of her children and spouses (and kids) would go up to the cabin where Mom had decided she wanted to spend her time. We no sooner got unpacked than she would mention how nice it would be for all of us to go fishing during our visit. Needless to say that suggestion was met with unilateral approval by one and all.

We would load up the boat the next morning and head out on the lake, sure we would be bringing back some walleye and perch for a fish fry that evening. Mom would just smile as I drove the boat from spot to spot, always elated to just be outside on the beautiful waters of Lake of the Woods. Safe to say all of us in the boat felt the same.

Time has a way of changing our habits and plans, and as the years passed Mom’s cabin time (and fishing) in Canada, necessarily, began to wane. Age provides wisdom, but it also is the body’s enemy. Mom recognized her increasingly limited physicality, and after 20 years of having a cabin on the lake and welcoming her family during the summers, sold the property and contented herself with friends, family, and activities in Indiana.

About 12 years ago Mom passed away at the age of 94. Her children became orphans. Like she told me once, “I’m the only Mom you’re ever going to have.” But she never mentioned how terribly I would miss her and our fishing trips when she was gone.

Today is Mother’s Day. Do me a favor and give your Mom a big hug and kiss. And tell her you love her. I can assure you she loves you more. That’s just what Moms do.

This week we have a great offer.  On any order of $50 or more, receive a $10 ALFC gift card at no charge!

Thanks to all of our great friends and customers who have supported us and passed our name on to their friends. We know we are only here by making sure your needs are our first and only priority. Please let me know if we ever fail to meet and exceed your expectations.

Tight Lines,

Tom Ashby