As most know, my brother Dale passed away on June 29th. We had his funeral on July 3rd. His gravesite is just a couple miles from the funeral home and as the procession was headed toward the cemetery, we passed a little side road that sparked a memory. I made a mental note to follow up with it.
On the way out of town the next morning, I took a detour and re-traced the route of the procession. I went through the square in Columbia and headed North on Campbellsville St. Turned right, East, on Stanford Rd and just before the bridge over Russell Creek turned right, South, on Green Hills Rd. A few hundred feet down, where the power lines cut through the trees is a small shale stone path leading down to the creek.
It was still a bit before sunrise and I didn’t have a lot of time. I parked the car and got out and walked down to the bank at the edge of the creek. I kneeled down and brushed my fingers through the water and the memories came flooding back.
During a couple of Summers spent in Columbia, my brother would do what many big brothers do. Take their little brother fishing. In this case, Dale brought me here and we’d spend a couple hours drowning worms. I don’t remember much of what we caught. But that is not even relevant. This was a memory of two brothers fishing.
I now wish I could go back so that I would pay more attention to what we were doing. To learn to cherish it more. But it is what it is and I do have that wonderful memory.
This made me smile.
It was dark, so I didn’t get to take any photos. I found this one on Google.
