To My Father

Somewhere along the line， the generation gap evaporated. Age separates us now and little else. We agree on most everything， perhaps because we’ve learned there isn’t much worth disagreeing about. However， I would like to mention that fly fishing isn’t all you’ve cracked it up to be， Dad. You can say what you want about wrist action and stance and blah， blah， blah…

I’ve been happily drifting for a lot of years， Dad， and I didn’t see you getting older.

I suppose I saw us and our relationship as aging together， rather like a fine wine. Numbers never seemed important. But the oddest thing happened last week. I was at a stop sign and I watched as you turned the corner in your car. It didn’t immediately occur to me that it was you because the man driving looked so elderly and fragile behind the wheel of that huge car. It was rather like a slap in the face delivered from out of nowhere. Perhaps I saw your age for the first time that day. Or maybe I saw my own.