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On this late Sunday (1:00am) and still wide awake, I find myself thinking back again from my past. Slightly, I close my eyes and lean back in my rocking chair and memories start to flash back to my toddler years. My oldest memory, the time Santa brought me my very first fishing pole. I was just four years old but coming from a family of fisherman to me it was like losing my virginity. I was so happy; can't you see me smiling in my rocker! Then, instantly my brain waves switch to my dad. I see his face clear as day, smiling as he watches me and my siblings fishing off the pier with our bamboo fishing poles. Almost every weekend he would take us fishing for baby blue fish (Snapper blues) down at the Highlands of New Jersey. Once the water got warmer, he would then take us crabbing. I still don't know how he controlled all seven of us aging from about five to sixteen years old. Mom's face appears suddenly, she is on the pier with us crabbing and she is wrapped in her checkered quilt (grandma sewn) and kneeling over the side of the dock pulling up a dropline with a crab attached to it. I don't think any of us enjoyed crabbing as much as she did, from catching them, to cooking them, to eating them...God rest her soul. Again, my thoughts swerve, this time to my brother Joseph. The eldest of the siblings and my mentor in the world of trout fishing. Joe was an expert trout fisherman, and he would take me with him everywhere he went, and he taught me everything he knew about the sport. Today, sadly...I fish without him (R.I.P.) my dear beloved brother. With my eyes still slightly closed and my body all relaxed in my rocking chair my penultimate memory opens my eyes a tad bit and a smile spread my cheeks as wide as the Joker's on Batman. It's because I remember the precious smile of happiness when this time Santa (me) brought to my seven-year-old son his very first fishing pole. How special a moment that was. Today, now at the age of sixty-five most of my spare time (And I have plenty of it being semi-retired) I go trout fishing with my sons. It is April 4th, 2025, tomorrow is opening day trout season here in New Jersey and God willing you can bet those little green apples that I will be wading in the rapids and trying my best to hook onto that big old rainbow trout! I can see myself now teaching my grandchildren how to fish!
 
My last memory, generations of fishing...my past history!
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