June 8, 2012

The River

He was somber as we got closer to the river. His fished the Missouri with his dad and brother his whole life long, and hadn't seen its mighty current since his father died. The video we have of Larry is aboard his boat, the Dolphin, with Bret and Bryon at dawn on the Missouri. Out catching walleye during a fishing tournament this same time of year.

It would have been eerie if it weren't so sticky with missing him. I watched my husband. I watched to see if his angled jaw would clench with strain, to see if he'd pinch his eyebrows together waiting for the hurt to hit.

But he did not.





It was beautiful. The land was lush and green and our great state begins to get hilly in this spot. The great Missouri divides it into two halves: the flat half (where we live) and the mountainous half.






I've got to tell you that standing here and smelling this fresh water made me think of sticking in a couple of poles with my own dad, who is probably sitting next to Larry up in Heaven. They're sharing a smoke and bag of worms I bet. Difference would be that my dad loved large mouth bass and Larry's favorites were walleyes. Plenty enough of both here, I reckon.






And then we pulled off on the other side of the river. I got out to shoot and my husband disappeared from view. I knew exactly where he was going; I had thought about it when we set out on this trip. I could hear his feet cross the rocks as he made his way down to the water's edge, just to touch it. To smell that smell.





That satisfied his soul, right there. I love how emotional my husband is when he's not trying to be. The trying part needs practice (he does not speak girl; have I mentioned that?) but the effortless being a human that he is? Oh my. ADORE that. He has a heart that is so huge. I am blessed to be in it.




And I am blessed to live where I do.




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