It was my first time ever, I came to her with very little to say, and a ton of curiosity for what might unfold in our time together. I was told that she had an amazing gift to channel messages from the angels and ancestors. I was told she's always spot-on, and I should listen up! I didn't really have questions, so we just sat next to each other, both staring out to sea, with the sun in our eyes, and the breeze in our hair. Her gaze seemed to be in the same direction as mine, but she was seeing things I couldn't see.
She asked some things that brought me to tears with the knowing of truth, I asked a question about one of my children and she answered with beautiful clarity, and she knew, without my telling, that there was another boy child and she pulled a card that looked just like him, she proceeded to describe his personality in detail...oh, the things she could see.
Then, a big smile washed over her gorgeous face and she turned to me and said, "do you like fishing? You like fishing don't you?" I giggled. "Yes, we all like fishing." And like a mother with warning in her tone, she said, "this is really important, whatever you do, don't stop fishing together." I laughed out-loud, but also took note.
I've loved fishing as long as I can remember and some of my very best memories are all tangled up with fishing line and hook. The men I love most have all been fishermen. My Dad used to wake me in the darkness of the morning, help me quietly out of the top bunk and into the waiting airplane, he would fly as I wiped the sleepysand from my eyes and watched the sun rise over the most beautiful, wild land of Alaska. Once on the river we would cast or lines and wait, enjoying the silence and wilderness together. My Grandfathers both took time and care to share the rivers, lakes and oceans with me, each in their own way. It seeped deep into my bones, the art and craft of fishing, the tenacity and hope of the fisher person, the love of the wilderness and willingness to believe and to wonder, at any age.
Travis had just, the month before, realized his longtime dream of owning a small fishing boat to voyage these coastal waters in our backyard. He also loves fishing. Our boys love fishing. Somehow I had some resistance to him buying this boat, the ocean scares me with it's ginormity, I wonder why we need to burn fuel to fish, and well, the driveway is only so big. But, truth be told, I'm so happy for him and I took heed to her advice.
After letting it all sink in, I know why she said to never let this fishing thing go. We all connect here. Fishing is our shared love-language. What could be more important than having a shared family love language? It's not an easy thing to come by in a family of passionate somewhat eccentric winter babies. We support each other, and love each other for who we are, and encourage each other to follow the magic that makes our eye's twinkle (unless that magic steals away valuable real-estate in the driveway, ahem, and you hold secret dreams of parking the cutest mobil office anyone ever did see in that very spot...wink, wink) but really, for the most part we are pretty good at encouraging each other and that said, we don't always share the same passion or speak the same love-language.
So, we'll keep fishing, and should I ever feel disgruntled about that driveway space, I'll be sure to remember what Debbie said, "don't stop fishing, don't let anything get in the way of fishing together."
What is your shared family love-language? I would love to know.