Skip to main content

Lessons from an old man

I remember watching the old man in the sea with my dad. The movie was about an old man and a big fish. The old man (played by Spencer Tracy) set out to prove to himself and to everyone else, that even though he was old, he wasn’t weak, he wasn’t washed up and he could still land the big one. All he needed was one day and this was that day. 

Hook line and splinters


How long the day and how long the fight would last, he had no idea.  The game was tug of war and war it was. The old man skillfully played the fish reeling in the slack but ready with the drag when he could feel the beast burst through the surface of sea.  His calloused hands now bloodied from hours of fighting, were wrapped with shreds of a discarded sweat-stained shirt, meant to be a bandage and did nothing to stop the pain, only to slow the bleeding. How many hours had gone by it didn’t matter.  Neither one surrendered, knowing well that weakness awakens the sharks.  The night came and the fight was over. The old man thanked the fish for fighting so hard and felt sorry for it at the same time. 

Surrender isn't always sweet


Too big and too heavy to put in the boat, it was tied down to the side of it.  He could see the lights shoreline and headed home. But the night wasn’t over neither was his battle. One fin slithered by than two, suddenly the water erupted into a frenzy. I remember feeling exhausted watching the shark’s taring away at his trophy and seeing my dad fighting back the tears saying, "You know son, this story is about life" All I could see (being a kid ) was a skeleton. My father seen much more. He was now the old man. He had lived his life. He had seen dreams come and go but he knew it was all about the journey not about the prize. Sometimes that journey clings to the side of a boat a mere skeleton of what we hoped we could protect, left to the imagination, a big beautiful fish.

What did the old man teach me? 


He wanted his moment. He was seeking justification and appreciation but this was a baited hook. He was both fish and fisherman. Trying not to get fooled and hoping to fool at the same time. There are many fish swimming in the sea of contradiction and many are hooked because of it.  Life is not a be all end all wall mounted trophy, it's an adventure. I am older now but I think I'm beginning to see the hidden truth in the words of the old man.

Climb aboard the ocean awaits and don't rock the boat. 

 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Humming

We have a rose of Sharon bush in front of our  living room window. Every year it attracts humingbirds. Now the blooms are bursting with color. I patiently waited for this little guy to return.  Expectation and joy brings colors to life. The fluttering of wings, the souls delight.  To savor the nectar of a the new day. That is just the hummingbirds way.

A pane in the glass

One pane of glass. One red, white and blue basketball. And one frustrating day in the window repair business.    My father was very good at repairing windows. He had plenty of practice. Our backyard was our arena, our stadium and the scene of many sporting errors.  Who done it? It all started on our one-lane road.  Every homeowner could hear the crack of the bat and then the smash of a ball. Where it came from, no one knew. We split, leaving the bat suspended just above the dust cloud. Not a kid in sight. Who done it was an unsolved mystery. All they could see was the weapon, the bat, the ball and the glass now littering the living room floor. Opps Things were different in our backyard. A wayward slapshot way upstairs. Crash. A change-up and a foul tip. Smash. Today's error: a basketball. A hook shot, nothing but air and glass. Bang. Shortly after the initial impact we heard something else, my father cuss "Friggin Kids" It was the only f word my dad was all...

Teachers Toast

One class I wasn't a big fan of was Home Ec. I had already learned most of what I needed to know from my mother and my sisters. Mr. Long, our teacher and chef, is dressed in white, from his paper chef's hat down to his shoes. He has two prominent features: a  Fu Manchu moustache and a wandering eye. For that reason (not knowing which one to look into), I never engaged in conversation.  Today's lesson is breakfast preparation. Some kids are across the hall, setting up the teacher lounge for breakfast. Every place setting is decorated meticulously. There is a huge coffee urn gurgling in the corner. Teachers are hovering, waiting for their morning elixir.   I am in the kitchen learning how to paint lightly browned Texas toast with butter. Every slice has a round circle of yellow that never seems to reach the edges, stacked on a plate. I never understood why they gave us a paintbrush instead of a knife. I found this unacceptable. I have never spread my favourite spreadables t...