stories.

short story one.

1

As time passed the sun sunk below the water, leaving a slight orange tinge in the sky. I drew back and cast my fishing line out, hoping to get a bite this time. Being on this lake with this boat flooded my head with all my childhood memories, where I learned to fish, and how. It was always a good hobby to sit back and reevaluate my life on, to just get away from the world for a moment and take a deep breath. My father taught me many things, but fishing was always my favourite lesson. Sometimes I could still sense him with me on these trips, hearing his deep voice in the back of my mind quoting his silly little mottos such as; "if you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day; if you teach a man to fish then you feed him for a lifetime."

I chuckled, I missed those quotes that he would randomly blurt out. Sometimes it didn't even had anything to do with what we were doing at the moment, but they were still very knowledgeable nonetheless. Sitting on this lake, on this boat at this time without my dad saddened me to the core, but I had to focus on the good memories we had. It's what he would've wanted. I wish I could say I had just as much fond memories with my mom as with my dad but that would be untrue, I loved my mother but I was always a daddy's boy, we did everything together.

It all changed when my mother got diagnosed with cancer, she didn't last much longer once she stopped the chemo. She was a strong woman, possibly the strongest woman I would ever meet. However once her hair turned grey and her movements became frigid I knew she wasn't going to last much longer. When the funeral happened and we said our last goodbyes, I believe a part of my Father got buried that day with her. He was never the same, he was just the shell of a man he used to be. They had retired and lived the rest of their lives in a cabin that was attached to this very lake I was on.

I remember that fateful night when I came to my dad for our yearly fishing trip, the hollow in his eyes and the rasp of his voice. I remember the exact words he told me; "Listen Son, I don't think I can do this anymore. I need you to inject this in my bloodstream, everyday it gets harder and harder to live with myself but i can't bring myself to do it. I need you Liam, I know i'm asking a lot but i need you to lay me down to rest. I want to be with Sharon again, she was the light of my life and now that she's gone I wake up alone and I can't do it anymore."

I had begged him to think about it and to not actually go through with this, mentioning what he had to live for and trying to persuade him to come live with my family and I. Unfortunately my father was a very stubborn man, and later that night I held him in my arms, sobbing as I watched him lose consciousness. When he finally let go there was the smallest smile on his face, and I knew he was happy. Ever since that day, I have come back to the lake not only to fish, but to attend the grave I made for him.

I wiped away the tears and reeled my line back in, packing my fishing gear and tools up before rowing back to shore. Once tying the boat to shore, i made my way to where my father lay. I placed the dozen tiger lilies that i had brought just for him on his grave.

I choked down my sobs before I could finally spit out; "I love you Dad, and I hope you're resting peacefully with Mom, but now I have to go home. So i'll see you next year, as always."