I got my wake-up call fairly early (or so I felt). I was only in my late 50s. At the moment it first happened, all I felt was indignation. How dare that young gal to look at me as if I was a member of the over-the-hill gang! A long look in the mirror, though, made me realize she was right. And more importantly, I knew it was here to stay, so I grew to accept it and moved on.
With the passage of time has come increasing offers from younger folks to help me do this, that and the other thing. Took me a while to get used to this concept, too, but having just passed my 76th birthday, I have learned to accept all those offers of assistance with anything and everything in general.
As a young fella, I was raised to respect my elders, and I always did so without ever expecting anything in return. It was common practice for me to provide transportation for seniors to and from church on Sunday morning and/or Wednesday evening, and I also took my grandparents to different places they had no business driving to themselves. In reflecting back on these things, I realize my life just has come full circle.
One of the things that sparked this post was a remark I found last evening in an online bass-fishing forum. It read as follows:
I made a bank trip to a small lake near my house last night after work. When I got there, I noticed an older man standing on the bank, holding his rod close to his face. I came by and asked him if he needed help. Seems he had gotten a backlash and had forgotten his glasses in the car. He couldn't see well enough to fix the backlash without them.
I offered to get his glasses for him. He gave me his keys, and I made the hike to his car, bringing back his glasses. He was very grateful for the help and was casting again in a short time. He explained that he used to own a bass boat but had had to sell it. He couldn't go out by himself any more. He also said he fished a few tournaments years ago but that his fishing buddies were all gone now, so that left him, as he said, "walkin' the banks alone."
He obviously was an avid fisherman. I moved down the bank, casting as I went, too. When it was almost dark, I heard him holler "Hey there, thank you again." I said, "You're welcome."
For the young guns just getting into this sport, I hope you always respect the older anglers you meet. Give them a kind word, and help them out if they need it. One day, you, too, may need a hand...perhaps while you're walkin' the banks alone.
To those of you who fish the Dewey Mullins Memorial Bass Tourney Series, please know that I, for one, thank all of you for the many acts of kindness and caring that's evident at each one of our events. Whether it's lending a hand to older anglers getting in or out of our boats, helping us launch or recover the boats, or any number of other good deeds, it does me proud to be in your midst. Thank each and every one of you for always having our not-so-youthful backs. May you be blessed in kind when you reach our age.
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