A Love That Fosters Patience

 Kirkland fishing. It was 101degrees that day.

All of my grandsons love to fish. They are excellent at casting and selecting the right bait for the type of fish they are pursuing. They understand the habits of their prey and use that knowledge to their tactical advantage. And they are patient. In working along the bank for bass, sitting and waiting for a catfish,or looking for that hot spot, patience is required. Out of all the boys, my oldest grandson Kirkland, at fourteen, has the most patience. Even his brothers and cousin agree that “Nobody fishes as long as Kirkland does”.

If you love a thing, really love it, I suppose you don’t tire of it easily. I love to fish as much as my boys do, but I’ll admit there have been days, when the temperatures were pegging 100 degrees, that I set aside my pole and sought out the cool comfort of some shade. Kirkland, however, will seat himself on an upturned 5 gallon bucket or stump and sit in the broiling sun fishing…for hours. Casting, reeling, and re-baiting even when he had not caught a single fish to show for it. One dip of a bobber, one straightening of bottom laid line is all he needs to keep him interested and determined for another hour. Long after his brothers are insisting it’s time to go, Kirkland is happy and content to fish on. Kameron, Karter and little Sam all like to fish, and they are good fishermen. The difference is that Kirkland loves to fish.

                                                                                                 
         Sam, waiting for the big one.

Fishing. It doesn’t get too hot or too cold. It’s never too early or too late. Anytime and every time is a good time as far as Kirkland is concerned. He feels the same way about hunting. And he is every bit as patient a hunter as he is a fisherman. He will out-wait you when he is deer hunting. He will stay in one place  longer than anyone when on a wild hog hunt. He doesn't move for hours while hunting turkey. He sits or stands quietly. And waits. I think his patience stems from pure love. He just loves the experience of being outdoors, as I always have.

When I was a boy I had the run of a couple thousand acres of hills and farmland. I hunted and fished for hours on end when I had the opportunity. I climbed for an hour or more in the Kentucky hills for no better reason than just to reach the top. I would find a rock or log and look out over the distance, admiring the landscape below me. The day of my grandmother Graces' funeral, I climbed one of the hills behind her house that I had often climbed as a boy. I knew the farm would change after her death, so I wanted to go up there for what could be the last time. Many years older and too many pounds heavier, I found that hill a bit more challenging than I had remembered. But, when I reached the top, and the Salt River valley spread out before me for miles around, I remembered why I had climbed up there so many times as a boy. Sometimes it’s the promise of a grander view that prompts us, and makes the climb worth the effort.

An early morning entry to the woods and an evening exit were often the norm for me as a young lad. I'd stay in the woods so long that my aunt Ruth, grandma, or someone would come to the hollow and yell for me, to make sure that I was OK. The sound would carry up across the valley and I would yell back " I'm fine!" As I grew older, everyone knew that I’d be back by dark and wouldn’t worry until after that. I rode horse back up to a 30 acre plateau to hunt, or just to ride. It was never too cold or never too hot. Just get me to the country and turn me loose. Yes, that’s why he does it. That's why Kirkland can't get enough. It is the unbridled freedom of the outdoors. We both love the freedom.

I remember that sense of wonder and adventure that I felt every time I entered the woods. I loved the smell, the feel, the aura of the woodlands. It did not grow old then. It does not now. Yes, that’s why Kirkland is so patient. He loves it... immensely. He is patient because he is contented. He is contented because he loves where he is and what he is experiencing at that moment in time. So, there are times when I don’t fish but take him so he can. I read a magazine or make notes for one of my blogs. My family knew a wonderful old man down south when I was growing up. He used to say " Sometimes I sits and thinks, an' sometimes I just sits." Sometimes I just sits. I sit and enjoy being outdoors. I watch and admire the sky, the water, the wildlife. I sit and watch my grandsons fish. And I am able to fully enter in to their joy of the moment.

Many people think of patience as only forbearance or long-suffering. Quietly waiting for the end of unpleasantness. But,  synonyms of patience are serenity, calmness, or quiet. Not looking for the end of a thing perhaps, but the state of being serene and quiet within the experience.That's the patience I'm referring to in this writing. The attitude of perseverance coupled with calm and quiet.

So, today the sun is very hot. There is hardly a breeze. So far the fish have been sluggish, and understandably so. But, Kirkland wants to fish a while longer, and that’s okay. When it comes to my boys, and being outdoors, well, I find that I have more tolerance than I do in other situations. Being a grandfather is a blessing granted from God. It has helped me to learn to enjoy the moment, because I full well realize that it is fleeting. I have learned from raising my two daughters that if you take your eyes off them,even for just a bit, they are grown and gone with lives all their own. So, I want to savor each minute with my boys. I want to feel what they feel, listen intently to every story, see the beauty in everything they see, hear, and do. I want to slow down with them in this fast paced and often chaotic world. I want to relax with them, savor the moment,... and be patient.