Chairs on the ice
I recently had the pleasure of being invited to a unique day of Ice fishing. Almost everyone there was at least 20 years older than I am.
My dad invited me to go with him on one of his ice fishing trips with a bunch of his friends. I jumped at the opportunity.
As I sat and listened to the group throughout the day it became evident that most of the group had two strong ties that bound their friendships.
Ties that have withstood the test of time and ties that pull them back together after long periods apart.
Ties that created friendships that have lasted for decades.
One obvious tie was the place of employment they all shared. The local paper mill served as a vehicle for introduction to some and an anchor for these lasting friendships. They spent years working side by side producing paper and making a living to support their families in our small community.
The second important tether that held this diverse group together was their love of the outdoors. Be it hunting, fishing or any other outdoor sport, they all had a love for the outdoors that was clear and strong.
Although disguised as an ice fishing trip, the real intention of this day became clear, it was to get good friends together in the outdoors, eat great food and tell stories.
The discussions always started with comments like “do you remember the time we” or “Whatever happen to so and so? I haven’t seen anything of him in……….” “I remember one time I………….”
I heard stories of success and stories of defeat. I heard stories about their time in the mill and stories of their time afield.
There was a never-ending undertone of friendly ribbing within the group, pointing out one’s mishaps or blunders afield was always accepted with the same good-natured attitude as it was given. The day held many laughs.
Adventures from decades gone by were relived as though they had happened just yesterday.
Of course, there was many stumbles and pauses in stories as memories have faded and recall is not what it used to be. But usually, with group input, the missing name or place was identified, and the story continued.
There was even a brief discussion about how the list of those who have passed is growing longer every day and may even be longer than those still with us. Although acknowledged by all the gears were shifted quickly to another subject and on they went.
I sat in awe of the stories and the memories shared. Friendships clearly on display as each memory was voiced and details added by others who lived the same adventure.
As I sat there a sense of sadness overtook me. Sadness created from the realization that I will most likely never experience a day like this, except as an observer.
Although I have friends that I have had for many years. Most live far away and distance and time have weakened the ties we once shared.
Others share little in the way of a love of the outdoors and none are tethered by decades of working in the same place.
Yes, I have a few friends who fish, John loves to fly fish and we do so often and will continue to create memories.
We grew up together and fished often through our younger years but a 30-year gap in adventures leaves little to recall.
Heath is an outstanding Bass fisherman, and we will surely spend more time in a boat and time around a campfire as we also share the love of evening campfires. Yet our friendship is relatively new with little history to recall. Our memories are yet in front of us.
Darrin, although like a brother to me, lives 1500 miles away and most likely always will.
The bonds that tie my generation have a much different focus than the ones that bound those that came before us.
The generation I was allowed to be apart of today holds an ongoing connection and friendship that is rooted in the outdoors and rooted in a lifetime of community.
This connection keeps them coming back to chairs on the ice, food on the grill and stories that get retold over and over again. Even if they do need help from others to completely put all the pieces together.
Sadly, as I picture that same scene 20 years from now, when its my turn to tell the stories, If I sat in that same chair I am sitting in today, who would fill the others?
Who will be there sharing a lifetime of memories?
My immediate conclusion is that most likely those chairs would be empty.
But like the ghost of Christmas future, this doesn’t have to be the end of the story. I don’t have to accept the empty chairs.
I have 20 years before this day becomes my reality. That gives me 20 years to make sure those chairs are full.
20 years to make sure stories are there to be told.
20 years to create the ties that pull good friends out on the ice to eat good food, sit in chairs, tell stories, and yes do a little fishing.
20 years……...
Who wants to join me ?
