CHILDHOOD MEMORIES: LETTER TO THE EDITOR
By A.H. Scott, Copyright 2017
When I read your diary memory about your father, it made me think back to my own father.
Some of the best times I can remember from childhood were when I went fishing with my Mom and Dad. Since it was always just the three of us, those Saturday mornings were truly special.
Getting up at 4:30 on a Saturday morning, my Mom and I would boil eggs and pack them in a bag for us all to eat, while my Dad would get his fishing poles and bait together. We’d be out the house around 5:45 to make the journey towards the river. I was 6 or 7 the first time we went fishing together.
Living in the Polo Grounds, where I still live to this day; we used to take a long walk up north on 155th Street. We’d make a trek past the old location where the Museum of the American Indian was on Broadway and over to the Hudson River.
By the time we reached the river’s edge near some benches and about twenty feet from the rocks; my Dad would set up the fishing poles with bait and hooks, while Mom and I would start to crack the hard boiled eggs.
Oh, I can remember that scent of the water and the sounds of little waves smacking against those rocks. My Dad had a long fishing pole for himself and smaller one that he showed me how to use. One time I actually caught a tiny fish. But, most of the time, my Dad would be the one catching eels and some other kinds of fish from the river. My first time seeing an eel wiggling on the ground once he reeled it in from the river made me think it was a snake. Green and so slimy looking, I jumped a few steps back from where it was moving around to where my Mom was. Wow, back in the day, we were living on the edge by taking that seafood out of the Hudson and eating it when we got home.
Looking back on those days brings a smile to my heart and face when I think of my Dad. When he died in 1989, it was then just me and Mom. Then last year in 2016, ironically on the last day of April, my Mom passed away. Now, it’s just me. But, I have my memories of their love, laughter and all those good times we shared together.
Tony, even as parent departs from this mortal world, we shall always remain their child. For myself, no matter how old I was, my Mom always used to say I would always be her baby. Even at my age when I remember her words in my mind, I feel an everlasting love and hug from my Mom.
Being a sentimental soul, after all these years, I still have some old fishing poles, 35mm slides, and a few of my Dad’s cameras.
Memories of the past are like branches of a tree; present are the leaves which expand in the breeze, while future is what is about to flourish and bloom with faith.
About The Author: A.H. Scott is a poet based in New York City and frequent contributor to Tony Ward Studio. To read additional articles by A. H. Scott, go here:https://tonywardstudio.com/blog/h-scott-funeral-white-lace/
To access the Tony Ward diary entry that inspired this article, go here:http://tonywarderotica.com/diary-memorable-day/