She Thinks We’re Just Fishing
A few weeks ago I was blindsided by a song while driving to Jessie’s to help haul stuff to her new apartment. By the time I had parked, I had to rub the goosebumps off my arms, wipe the tears that had welled up under my eyes and collect myself before getting out of the car.
Sure, other songs make me nostalgic. I Saw the Sign brings back images ofdancing in Rebecca’s bedroom in 3rd grade. Hey Girl conjures up the summer Jessie and I spent in Blacksburg between junior and senior years of college. And of course Enter Sandman makes me jump uncontrollably every single time I hear it.
But this song (Just Fishing by Trace Adkins) makes me want desperately to be young, carefree, barefoot and completely dependent on my dad again. It makes me want to rewind and be 7 years old on the beach in North Carolina casting Dad’s giant surf fishing rod into the waves.
I can’t imagine how nostalgic it would make me if I didn’t still fish with my dad. If Dad didn’t still rummage in the garage to find me a suitable rod and make sure it’s rigged and that I have something to bait the hook with. I’m sure Dad feels the same way.
I have a terrible urge to go fishing with my Pops now. I also can’t help but wonder what little girls do with their dads if not go fishing. Make them play tag? I don’t know, fishing works for me. So does gearing up in wetsuits for a jetski ride on cold water.