Fun fact: 75% of the letters needed to describe how fish taste are already included in the word “fish.”
The worst part of going fishing is actually catching a fish. It’s just a pain in the ass. I don’t want to eat the fish. I don’t even want to hurt the fish. I certainly have no interest in touching the fish or otherwise rescuing him from his dumb decision to try to eat my hook in the first place.
I enjoy the aspect of fishing that involves sitting outside and drinking beer. I do that several nights a week, but instead of fishing, I smoke a cigar. Much simpler process. Less travel, less hassle, less cursing.
Having said that, our family had a great time fishing this weekend. Personally, I didn’t touch a pole. Or even drink a beer. But I was the official photographer and playground chaperone while our kids had a blast catching fish with their awesome momma.
We went to Enid this weekend for multiple reasons. One was fishing, which we did twice. We found a couple of ponds next to public playgrounds, and the kids loved catching fish with Missy and her brother Aaron. I snapped the photos and walked the kids over to the adjacent playground when they needed a break from fishing. I’m glad they have a mother and uncle who can do those kinds of things with them. I can see Maddux being an avid fisherman when he grows up; it suits his personality.
We also went to the Great Salt Plains to dig for crystals. This was the second time we’ve done that and it’s something the kids really enjoy. It was hella windy while we were out there, which took away from it somewhat, but the kids still had a great time and found a lot of crystals.
The other reason we went to Enid this weekend is because it was Memorial Day weekend, and that is where half of my grandparents are buried.
My grandpa was my hero growing up. Even when I was still in high school, I remember thinking that he must be one of the 10 or 15 smartest people in the world. He could solve hard math problems (he was an engineer) and finish the crossword puzzle every day. He drank his whiskey straight and he was good at golf. How could someone be any more awesome?
He was also a colonel in the Army during World War II, serving in France and Germany. In high school he came and spoke to our class about his war experience, and it was the only time in my life I’ve felt like the coolest person in the room.
My grandma, who we called Nanny, died of breast cancer when I was only 6, but I can still remember her yummy meatloaf and her devotion to Wheel of Fortune. She watched it every day.
On Sunday we visited their graves in Enid. We also visited my mom’s childhood home, which still looks great. The three youngest kids were surprised to see the name “Musser” on the grave. They knew “Musser” as my middle name and Maddux’s middle name. Of course we’ve told them where that name came from but I suppose it hadn’t been real until they saw it for themselves.
It was really neat to see American flags all over the cemetery, marking the graves of people like my grandpa who bravely served our country. Sometime this week we are planning to drive to Jones, where my dad’s parents are buried.
We are also planning a day trip to Sulphur, where my dad’s ashes were scattered. I’ll bring my guitar and we’ll have a moment of silence and sing a couple of songs. Of course, that’s not the same as having a grave to visit, and Missy and I spent some time discussing the unpleasant subject of what we wanted done with our remains after we pass.
It’s something nobody really wants to think about, but of course it is an important topic that should be addressed before it’s too late.
The benefits of cremation: much cheaper, ashes can be divided among multiple family members and/or scattered in a sentimental location (like Sulphur, where my parents loved to visit).
Benefits of burial: Lasting marker for future generations to remember you by, with simple details like birth/death year or marriage/children info. It kind of sucks that my dad also served in the Army but there isn’t a grave to put an American flag on for Memorial Day.
I was always inclined to go the cremation route, mainly to ease the financial burden on my family and because I never really cared what happened to my body after I’m no longer in it. Plus, how far back do people really go in remembering their ancestors? I can easily go back one more generation, as some of my great-grandparents are buried in the same cemetery as my grandparents. But I have never visited a grave of anyone from the generation before that. A grave next to my grandparents’ was for a woman who died in 1971. It had no flowers on it, which seems kind of sad. But of course eventually that is the fate that awaits us all, grave or no. Within a couple of generations we will be forgotten by this world.
Missy has always leaned the other way, toward burial. I don’t feel strongly enough about it to override her wishes. I’d rather be buried next to her than be cremated and scattered somewhere else without her. But she hasn’t fully made up her mind on the whole thing either.
I’ve always thought that having an expensive casket seemed stupid, and I’ve read about a much cheaper, more eco-friendly chamber/cocoon that sounds like a better option. No reason to spend thousands of dollars on fancy wood that nobody will ever see once it’s in the ground.
So I dunno. I know it’s a weird thing to write about but it might also be helpful to get my thoughts on paper and get input from friends and family members. My opinions on fishing are set in stone, but I’m flexible when it comes to where my earthly remains will reside for all of eternity.