Love and Fishing

The love that I feel for my children is the only love that I have ever felt that hasn't faded over time (and I am presuming it won't). I now know how dogs feel. You can kick them, and scream at them, and demand things from them that are outside of their very nature. Still they will sit next to you and slobber, and lick you and love you beyond all reason. I have been bitten, and screamed at, and asked to do things outside of my nature. Yet, I sit here and slobber, all love. MOM=DOG. Three letters, both containing an "O".

This is love, and honestly I believe it's the only kind that exists–truly. I used to think that love was something you felt for one of your peers, in my case, of the opposite sex. I used to dream of a "soul mate", someone that fit perfectly with my needs and desires. One might say that I have met him and had two children with him. I will be honest, that I don't know if I love my husband as intensely as I once did. For sure, the feeling's essence has changed.

I was visiting a friend of mine last night after going to the pool with the kids. He had just been fishing at a reservoir with his dad and four year old daughter (who is also my daughter's best friend). We were on the other side of the dam, headed towards the waterfall. I was trying to convince my oldest that she actually could make it the next 100 yards to be able to see the waterfall (and possibly Ariel swimming there). Basically we all were within a half-mile of each other but separated by a huge concrete barrier and 500,000 tons of water. We didn't know this until later though.

At his house, the baby wanted something to nibble on, so I was going to run out to my car and get a MEGA-box of goldfish that I had bought at Target that day. My friend said not to, that he had some in his cabinet. I grabbed them out of their little sealed plastic bag (I guess to keep them fresh, or maybe so they were more manageable than having to grab the MEGA-box that he bought from Sam's club). I threw some on a paper-towel for the baby, and the older girls immediately came over.
"They aren't the colored ones".

"I am a one-goldfish kind of guy", my friend responded. We both laughed over this. He's going through a nasty divorce, and we've had several discussions about how he's not intending on settling down with one person because he no longer "believes in monogamy".

Through several conversational transitions, we went from goldfish-monogamy to love.
"How many times had I been in love?". I thought it was two. I had two very specific people in mind. Then something happened. I kept changing people. I kept thinking of particular moments with one or another.

My friend decided to teach the girls how to clean the fish he had caught. There were 6, one was special because it had brown spots. Of course this fish needed to be shared between the girls. There was much discussion as to which fish were girls, and also much haggling over who would clean the "girl fishes". My friend decided that they were ALL GIRLS, and then the haggling stopped. Everyone was covered in scales and guts, everyone was laughing (except the fish of course). I guess the kids are "one kind of fish" people too. Or maybe too many choices just lead to too many debates.

Putting all the thoughts together I started to realize that maybe my "in love with" partners kept changing because the choices were so situational... I "loved" one for the way he held my hand on the bus, another for the song he wrote. I guess, for me, how much you "love" someone depends on where you are in life, what's important to you then. Maybe my needs change too much and too often. Maybe I don't have a strong enough set of moral values to hold up to love of this sort. Or maybe I am just fickle.

We do so much searching in life to find out who we are, why we are important, and where we belong. Is this a contemporary situation? Do we have too many choices in this land of plenty? Is this why the divorce rate is skyrocketing? We no longer have a good foundation of morality to stand on, and nothing to guide us?

Having children has changed my value system. I used to want to be a famous artist, an eccentric, see my name in lights. I wanted to be the brown-spotted fish that everybody wants. I have "lost" this part of myself, and more and more I simply want a life that's safe and happy and quiet. I can't quite figure out if this is "sad", (as in "how sad that she lost herself once she had kids"), or if I should take it as quiet contentment.

I want to give my kids clothing and shelter, and a good chance at surviving this life. I've always wanted them to be able to make their own choices, but maybe choice is not the key to happiness. Choice can be quite superficial.

I asked my daughter if she would want to eat fish more now or less. She said "more", so I told her that that meant we would have to go fishing. That she would have to work hard to eat her next fish. That she would need to clean it and fillet it, and then take the joy of eating it.
This is the lesson that I wish to teach my children. If you want something, sometimes you need to work to get it. We have forgotten that idea in our "do you want ice with that fish?"-wrapped in paper/plastic world.

And after that fish is gone and in her belly... after the initial thrill of the catch, will she remember it as it's own? Even if it's the special brown spotted one?

It's very doubtful. She WILL remember the experience though. She will remember the situation that brought her the fish. She will remember the blood and guts of cleaning it, and the work that's involved... so much more than if her mom just bought one at Whole Foods (wild caught, free range).

And we all must remember in love or fishing "there are plenty of fish in the sea", but maybe that's the problem.