by Sheena Cox
The best catch ever turned into the worst loss of a lifetime.
On a hot summer afternoon at what is known to Ritchie Countians as the Jug Handle, I went fishing with my best friend, Maranda McClaskey and her daughter, Samantha.
I went from a semi-pro fisherwoman to an amateur in the matter of one fishing extrusion.
While sitting on the creek bank with my rod in the water, watching the bait on my hook swim around in front of me, I spotted a large shadow in the water.
I presumed to continuously cast and reel to try to get the fish to notice my creek chub swimming around in front of the shadow. I would cast in front of the shadow, behind the shadow and I even adjusted my bobber so my bait would just glide across the fish – hoping it would bite, but nothing.
Continuing to cast and reel several times, the line of my pole happened to get tangled in trees, around myself and without noticing my hook caught something big – my chair. I yanked on the pole and it tipped my chair forward. I noticed my pride and joy, my lifeline rolling in slow motion into the lake.
I quickly asked myself, what to do? How far gone is it? Should I jump in to recover it or just let it go? My decision was to just let it go. I watched my cell phone sink to the bottom of the lake with all my pictures, contacts and memories from my past destroyed. My disappointment and shame quickly arose, but I was quick to realize that was a way to focus on the present and future and not to be tempted to fall back into the past.
I continued fishing even after the loss when I caught the biggest catch of my life, a sixteen-inch bass. I was officially hooked.