HAVE I DONE THE RIGHT THING?
by Jane Teague-Urbach

I just spent over a hundred dollars on the beginnings of a flyfishing kit for my husband, Michael. I gave it to him for his 50th birthday. Actually, I passed the little coffee can with a slit lid around to family and friends. But I admit I was the instigator; I chose the gift. I did it for alot of good reasons. I was advised to do it and he always said he wanted it. Was I wrong? Should I have done this? I need to talk this out to people who understand and may help reassure me. Bear withme.

Reason One: He Wants It

I have been married to the grandson of an Italian fisherman for 21 years. I can repeat three generations of "fish stories" to prove it. His grandfather didn’t fish for fun; he fished for food for a growing family during the depression. Fishing was work to the old man; the serious business of survival. I sometimes think his grandson loves fishing in spite of his experiences with his grandfather, not because of them. But he had enormous respect for his grandfather and took pride in his fishing exploits.

His father did all kinds of fishing and took his son along on memorable trips. They met President Eisenhower on one of them. Ike had given the Secret Service the slip, with Mamie’s help. They literally almost ran into him on the water and fished and chatted comfortably with the affable old man. It was not until the Secret Service showed up to reclaim the runaway president that my husband and his father knew the identity of their fishing pal.

Michael had an old bait casting rod and reel and a can of worms; his father had a fly rod. Fly fishing looked hard. His father was doing things that the child thought were impossible. One time, his father appeared to be fishing in the pond around the corner from the one where the two of them were sitting. My husband remembers that the line seemed to stay horizontal, as if levitated, disappearing through an itty bitty hole in the green undergrowth. All that moved was a part of his father’s arm. He always thought fly fishing was the "ultimate" fishing, but something you took up when you were old enough to do "impossible" things. He’s old enough now, he’s already done several impossible things.

Reason Two: He Earned It

We have had a busy life at what some would consider the lower end of the economic scale. Either Christmas or his Birthday could result in a fishing license if it was a year that allowed such luxury. Even in years when we couldn’t afford a fishing license, he would wake up at 4:30 on Saturday morning, turn on the television, and vicariously fish with Jim or Bill or Jerry. I would even watch Jerry with him. He got to be house husband and mother/father while I went back to college in order to better our economic situation by increasing my earning power. He has had precious little time to fish, but he found ways to fit it in. He took our daughter to a nearby pond when she was small. They bonded and watched the wildlife..and she liked the fishing. Now the pond is owned by a development company that keeps it off limits..and she’s a vegetarian. But she’s permanantly bonded with her daddy, and those fishing trips became part of that special feeling they share. During licensed years, he kept a small tackle box and fishing rod in his pick-up truck for quick stops at ponds or streams on the way to or from work.

One year, we miraculously acquired a canoe. Our favorite vacations were the few times we could get away to camp out and he would fish and I would help paddle. While he stopped to try his luck, I would crochet and watch him at his happiest. It didn’t seem to matter whether he caught anything...he was almost the same amount of happy. I say almost, because if did catch enough of a plentiful species to actually cook for us, he was ecstatic. That meant combining his two favorite pastimes; fishing and cooking. And he was experiencing the age old rewards of the successful hunter/fisherman...providing for his family. You could taste his pride and satisfaction in the Crappie as you ate it.

He had to sacrifice experiencing more of these times over the years because the family needed other things more. Whole summers would go by without the canoe touching water. I ached for him during those summers, as well as for myself. I think thats when my "fly fishing at 50" plot was born. Someday I would pay him back for his sacrifice.

Reason Three: He Needs It.

Women are not the only ones who go through a "change of life". I think it is common knowledge now, that men to experience some "bumpy" times around 50. They measure their accomplishments so far against their picture of "success". If they have accepted society’s definition of money and power as the measure of "success", and they have alot of money and/or power, then I guess they feel successful. I suspect that measure doesn’t work so well as you have to constantly want more to fit that definition. Men who buy that definition never feel truly successful, there is no such thing as "enough". Men that didn’t buy that definition may be worried that they "failed" somehow since it’s not easy resisting society’s definition of success. If they did not accrue money or power, they are left worrying that they missed out, or let down their families or their own fathers.

There are other "measures of success" a man can apply at this age. I think my husband uses those other measures. I know I do. Success can mean making a difference to his friends and family, being creative, successfully raising children, being happy and making others happy. These are the measures I hope matter to him. His brothers and sisters look to him for fairness and understanding. He has created many beautiful things, and because he has many wonderful ideas and shares them freely, he has been responsible for igniting the creativity of others. He inspires those around him to listen to and apply new ideas. An unemployed friend tries re-making an old folk toy at my husband’s suggestion, succeeds and delights thousands of adults and children in the process, as well as making himself a living. He told another friend to try writing dinner mystery plays as a way to earn money that left time for his more serious playwrighting.

Both his son and daughter have let him know that they are proud of their dad and grateful for what he has given them in time, love and discipline. This husband of mine is not a man without goals, but a man who focuses on and values the process of getting to them. Sometimes focusing on the process leads to goals one didn’t think to set for oneself. He cares more about the quality of the road than the destination...he recognizes the identity of means and ends. Perhaps, this IS a man born to fly fish.

For whatever reason, there are motivations for a man to make changes in his life. And I think they should. But some men overreact. They have no real anchor, and they make changes that slam the door on the whole life that has gone before. They quit their jobs, take up with younger women, sometimes even leave their wives and children. Certainly these are the exception, and I’m not really afraid my husband would be among them. But I do think there is a lesson to be learned from the extreme cases. Change is good, but it helps to have an anchor. It helps to have a way to think clearly through the times of change. It helps to get away and experience clean air outside the body and inside the head. This kind of clean air seems to surround the fly fisher. It helps to have a creative outlet that brings satisfaction such as the creativity of tying those beautiful and USEFUL flies. It helps to have a meditative process. What could be more meditative than the patience and concentration involved in this kind of fishing. A man this age needs to learn new things, plug into the world around him, get back in touch with the wild earth and his wild self. From what I’ve seen and heard, fly fishing fits this bill.

I think I have done the right thing. Thanks for listening.