Going Fishing
All throughout my youth on both sides of the family there was an interest and enjoyment of engaging in fishing. When in Bennington Arkansas for the summer my grandparents would take use three grandkids to the lake right down the road, or across town where we would also feed the ducks, to fish for several hours. When in Oakridge my father on a number of occasions starting from age 3 up until 9 or 10 while he still had some semblance of a rational mind, would take me to the park to fish. Basically the trend was that early morning mid-afternoon on the weekend my father and I would go to Arkansas Sports and Outdoors to buy worms to fish with. After that we took the worms and our gear to the fishing park to where we would find a spot and go through the process of fishing for I believe catfish. There were numerous occasions of this happening in my early youth, enough for me to distinctly remember several times and was actually a really caring act by my father to take me and sometimes my sister as well fishing. He didn't drink beer during that time, just propel water, and we just got to relax and spend time with each other.
Fishing was an activity that united our family in that there wasn't any kind of bad talking towards each other while we fished and no coarse remarks as we returned home. Likely how the majority experiences when they fish.
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Searching for the Answer
Non-FictionThis is a compilation of stories involving childhood abuse and trauma through a first-person impactful perspective mostly chronological. It is my story and is not fabricated in any way. I am posting just to get feedback thank you.
