A family of fisherman

Earlier this year, Bill was lost. I had found a passion with food writing that turned into a career - something that took up my free time outside of the family. Bill didn't have much except for a dying love of disc golf. That difference was something that set our home life in a tailspin, creating resentment and stress. So, he started fly fishing this year. It has changed not only our family dynamics, but our life. With every person finding passion, we are one happy bunch. Bill and I have worked out a great schedule that offers us almost perfect balance. He's able to go fly fishing at least twice, if not three times a week. The river is a sanctuary for him - a break from work, a break from family - something that is only his alone. This addition of fly fishing really opened my eyes as to how important individual passion is for every person. And when that passion is gone, the life in someone dies.

Not only has Bill been fly fishing on his own, but he's been off on some cabin trips with friends to fish and has plans for some extravagant fishing trip for himself later next year - South America, possibly. Fortunately, we're in a place where we can do that kind of stuff now. And, as every father hopes to do with his sons one day (I'm sure), Bill has been teaching the boys about fishing here and there. Granted, they are too young right now for fly fishing, but they enjoy hanging out on the river (or pond) and scaring the fish away so nobody catches anything (which really isn't their purpose, but it's what happens). It's fantastic family time.


Winter is upon us and Bill is itching for spring. I am too. I love that he has something that restores his life so much.