Dear Tommy,
Winter came late to the valley this year but now it has set in hard. The banks along the Beaverhead are all lined with sheets of ice as is the water in the shallows. The willows sparkle with crystals and the pines are clotted with snow.
The sun came out today and I walked down to the river with your grandpa’s journal and read what he wrote about fishing together with you. It made me feel closer to my grandson despite the distance.
The first entry was about the time when you came west to stay with us, and he took you to the Ruby for your first lesson in fly fishing. He said you had a ‘natural arm’ and cast very well right off the bat. You remember what he taught you about getting your fly in the current next to the far bank and throwing an upstream mend? I’m sure you do. He was a good teacher and very proud of your proficiency from the start.
Another entry spoke about the time one late summer during haying season when we went down the valley to fish the Big Hole. That time when the grasshoppers were dropping in the stream kicked up by the harvesters and the big Brown Trout would make a slurping sound as they sucked the bugs off the surface. Even your granny caught some nice ones that day!
His final entry was the Green River trip – when you drove grandpa clear to Utah to fish there. He couldn’t wade the streams anymore and you wanted him to have something special for his eighty-second birthday. He wrote about how it was a trip he’d never forget. Grandpa even drew a sketch in the margin of his journal showing the fishing set-up, the long tippet below the leader, and the float indicator above, and the size 22 flies you used! The drift boat guide, Dick Morris stayed in touch with him like an old friend, sending and occasional and a birthday card the following year.
So many wonderful memories! You remember he always said the biggest trout you’d always remember was the one you hadn’t caught yet. I loved that man, and I know you did too.
I wanted to send you something of his this Christmas, but I feared it would get lost in the overseas mail, so this picture of his reel will have to do until you get home from your tour of duty. I hear Afghanistan can be cold, too. So, stay warm and safe.
Your loving Grandmother,
Jesse
A Tender Reflection on Love and Legacy
This beautifully written story captures the essence of family bonds and cherished memories. The vivid wintery imagery sets the perfect stage for a grandmother’s heartfelt letter to her grandson, bridging the distance between them with warmth and love.
Through tender recollections of fishing trips spanning generations, the story celebrates the simple yet profound joys of shared experiences. From the Ruby River to the Green River, each scene brims with vivid detail and emotional resonance, connecting past and present.
The grandmother’s thoughtful gesture—a photograph of Grandpa’s reel—symbolizes enduring love and the power of memory. This profoundly moving tale reminds us to treasure family connections, even across great distances. It is a heartfelt and comforting read. I loved the symbolism.