I asked him

As he was falling asleep

On the phone

I said

I was thinking about fishing recently and how you used to take me

To the Staunton Country Club

Which wasn’t really a country club at all, the pathway down to the lake a steep and cheap downhill grade with no guardrails

Yes, we used Grandpa Rummer’s boat, or at least what was left of it.

Why did you take me? Because you wanted to spend time together? Or you wanted to teach me to fish? Or was it that we would eat what we caught?

He replied, number one and two. It was that simple.

And that got me thinking, to do something just for the sake of doing it, sitting with it

Expanding the effort because it will later evolve to become a recollection, something to revisit on those overcast days

Sitting in a misty cloud, contemplating existence

Or when in a haze from pain meds, searching for what he calls “the spot,” the most comfortable position nestled on his back in the medical bed

The freshwater we touched, now in our memory

The saltwater that runs down my face

All fog