I was terrified to go back out there without him. It’s been almost two years since the last time I stepped out on the dock with a rod in hand. I stood there for a moment, peering at the water and waiting for a sign of where to cast my line. There was a small ripple out towards the weeds, so I pulled my pole back and held the button. I couldn\u2019t throw it out.<\/p>\n
I let go of the button and let the plastic bait hit the dock before I began reeling in up with a sigh. I wondered if I should even be doing this without him. It just didn\u2019t feel right. Cross-legged, I sat at the edge of the old wooden peer, looking down at the dirty water and my face looking up at me. After three or four more tries, my body finally remembers how to cast a fishing pole. There\u2019s a plop, and I sit there in silence, reeling in some of the slack on the line. I\u2019m too impatient, so eventually I pull it in and cast it out again. I repeat this a few times just for good measure. I didn’t catch anything, but I felt closer to (K) than I had in quite some time. I didn’t want to leave.<\/p>\n It was just fishing. Something I had spent my whole childhood doing to kill time and make memories, but I needed to remember my old friend, and no one knew him better than those fish.<\/p>\n I miss you bud, but I\u2019m going to get through it and keep you with me along the way. I hope you’re resting easy and I hope you’re proud.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I was terrified to go back out there without him. It’s been almost two years since the last time I stepped out on the dock with a rod in hand. I stood there for a moment, peering at the water and waiting for a sign of where to cast my line. There was a small … Continue reading “Back on the Dock”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":35,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5968"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/35"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5968"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5968\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":5982,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5968\/revisions\/5982"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5968"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5968"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5968"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n(K) would think I was stupid for being scared to fish without him. I could practically hear him laughing over my shoulder and making some snarky comment about how I would never get in the sun much if he weren\u2019t around. He wasn’t wrong. I could already feel my cheeks starting to burn and my stomach turn. Maybe I should stop. This is dumb, I don\u2019t even remember how to do this<\/em>. It had all kind of buried itself. I never thought I would be out here again. I miss him. I want to do something that will make me feel him<\/em>. I got up and looked out into the pond while I shook out a breath. I remember (K) holding up a bass the size of his face. I smile, pull the pole back and let go of the button as I cast it out. The line some how wound up caught on the other side of the dock. (K) was probably rolling on the floor at this point.<\/p>\n