Happy Father's Day!

This week I went fishing below the State Highway 33 Bridge near Beaver Dick Park. It’s a pretty busy highway. I cross the bridge on a regular basis whenever I travel north to Missoula or west to Boise where my daughter, Jeanette lives. Standing, looking upstream at the bridge, brought back some cherished memories of my father.

When I was young the road wasn’t busy. Dad liked to fish the river downstream while I would fish for chubs from the old bridge. There was plenty of action which would occupy me for a few hours. Once in a while I hooked a small trout which I derricked up to the bridge as quickly as possible. Every now and again I hooked a big trout. Whenever that happened, I called dad. I couldn’t contain my excitement and patience enough to wait for him. Instead, I tried to lift the trout up to the bridge, in spite of his protests, where it promptly broke off as soon as it left the water.  Rather than lecture me and tell me what an idiot I was, he consoled me. He knew I felt bad enough without him piling on.

Finally, after making the same mistake numerous times, I decided to wait for him to help. I hooked a nice trout, and he instructed me how to play it to the bank where he could land it. It was the biggest trout I had ever caught. I was excited but I think Dad was even more excited. When he heard a car coming, he scrambled up to the bridge to show off my trout. Catch and release was unheard of at that time, and we cleaned the fish on the riverbank. After we got home dad had me pose for a photo.

I wish I could say that experience taught me to always listen to my dad and follow his advice. Unfortunately, like continuing to try to hoist big trout up to the bridge, I made more poor choices than I’d like to admit, and I paid the consequences. Dad always told me that if I got myself in trouble, I had to get myself out, which taught me accountability.

I am thankful that all of my children love the outdoors. The memories of growing up, working and fishing together on one of the greatest rivers in the world will stay with them forever. Fishing has been an integral part of our lives since dad’s grandfather, Henry Marriott, first took him fishing in the 1930s. Both of my grandfathers loved to fish and I treasure the memories I share with each of them. I have been even more blessed for the time I have spent on the water with my own grandchildren.

Recently my son, Chris, shared a video of fishing with my grandson, Ollie, catching fish with his flyrod. Ollie is on the downside of 8, about the same age I was when I first got started. My family legacy has made me the richest man on earth.

This week I got the news that I am about to become a great grandfather. It’s a pleasant but sobering thought. I can’t believe how quickly the years have passed. The thought that my son, Shaun, is about to become a grandfather is even more overwhelming. I’m indeed thankful for the many hours I have spent working and playing with my three wonderful children and my grandchildren. Fatherhood has its ups and downs. Leadership and fiscal responsibility can be daunting yet there is no greater calling in life than fatherhood. It doesn’t always go the way it should. I think one of the best books I ever read about fatherhood was A River Runs Through it by Norman McClean. The book has plenty of fly fishing but in reality, the book is really about family. The hardest thing about fatherhood is when your children suffer.

After the father, who was a Presbyterian minister, learned of his son, Paul’s, death, he never spoke of it for several years. Eventually he found the courage to share his feelings.

“Each one of us here today will at one time in our lives look upon a loved one who is in need and ask the same question: We are willing to help, Lord, but what, if anything, is needed? For it is true we can seldom help those closest to us. Either we don't know what part of ourselves to give or, more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted. And so it is those we live with and should know who elude us. But we can still love them - we can love completely without complete understanding.”

Happy Father’s Day!