The Circle of Life

One of the most important lessons I've learned is that life comes full circle.

When I was a toddler, my grandparents would take me fishing with them. Often, after they had caught a few fish from a lake, Grandma would divert my attention. As she did so, Gramps would take my fishing pole, grab a fish and attach my hook to its mouth. He then would slide the fish back into the water. Next, my grandparents would whoop and holler, "Dougie, you got one!

They would then help me reel in my catch and spend the rest of the trip bragging about what a good little fisherman I was.

Later, the trips mainly consisted of Grandpa and me. Though I was no longer a toddler, I always talked Gramps into tying and baiting my hook. He seemed happy to oblige, and, truth be told, I think that he preferred it that way--it kept me close, allowing him to keep an eye out for my safety.

Finally, I learned to tie and bait my own hook. Shortly thereafter, when we would go fishing, Gramps and I would split at water's edge, one heading up stream and the other down. Gramps was still a little nervous about my safety, and it wouldn't surprise me if the noises I sometimes heard in the bushes came from him, as he tried quietly to check on me.

Time passed; we both grew older; and I became reluctant to separate from Gramps while fishing. Age had taken its natural course. His heart grew weaker; his sight faded; and he became less agile on his feet, often stumbling among the rocks in a stream, falling into the water.Soon, I found myself wanting to keep him by my side, under my watchful care. But there was no chance to accomplish this without insulting his pride. So, after we would split at a stream bank, I often would sneak to some foliage behind Gramps and peek out to be sure he was all right.

Finally it happened.

It was one of our last outings before his death. It was late afternoon, and we were standing on his porch, rigging our poles. I noticed Gramps having difficulty threading his line through the hook's eye. Finally, with a sheepish grin, he asked, "Guess my eyes ain't what they use to be. Think you could tie my hook for me?"

I stood in silence at the wonderment of how life comes full circle. A smile spread across my face as I recalled the many years he had tied hooks for me and worried for my safety. It was now my turn to tie his hook. It was my turn to worry about his safety, to care for the caretaker.

It was a privilege to do so.

Now, when I tie a hook or bait a line for my sons, my thoughts turn to that last outing with my grandfather. As my soul fills with warmth, I thank the Lord for the opportunity to experience the circle of life.