Note: I first wrote this blog post on May 9, 2014. Since then, I’ve reposted it every mothers day in memory of the woman who sacrificed much so that her son could realize many of his dreams. Thanks mom…

I was inspired to write this post after reading a recent article on the Kayak Fishing Magazine blog entitled “7 Pros, Fishing Heroes“. First, I want to say the Kayak Angler post is great and I thoroughly enjoyed reading it . My post certainly isn’t a “dig” on the article in any way. The article is filled with fond memories of dads who passed fishing on to their young sons and recollections of certain professional anglers who influenced the seven pros interviewed in the article.

That being said, the article got me thinking about who I would consider my fishing hero. Honestly, It didn’t take me long to come up with the answer which is my “mom”. It’s actually kind of fitting since this coming Sunday will be mothers day. It’s been over 20 years since my mother passed but many times when I’m on the water guiding or teaching a fishing class my mind will drift momentarily to thoughts of how she helped me realize one of my true passions in life. Fishing for me is more than a hobby. It’s a way of life. It’s woven into the fabric of who I am and the person who artfully wove that fabric was my mother.

During my formative years, my mother fueled my passion for fishing in many ways. This is quite ironic because, to my knowledge, she never fished a day in her life. She bought me fishing gear for every Christmas, Easter, and birthday. Even though some of the gear wasn’t quite appropriate for the species I targeted, I cherished every plug, spinner, plastic worm, and oddly colored fly she proudly placed in front of me during these special days. She also made sure my subscriptions to a number of fishing magazines were always current.

My mother provided shuttle for my friends and I on our local flows toting rafts, canoes, or any other water craft we attempted to fish out of. Many times she would just drop me off at one of the local creeks for a few hours of fishing. I have to laugh because such a thing would probably be considered “parental negligence” by today’s standards! One of my absolute fondest memories of fishing was hearing the car horn beep and wading out to the middle of the creek to see her parked on an old country bridge upstream calling out to me that it was time to go. Of course like any budding fisherman, I would have to get in a few “last casts” but she tolerated it in stride.

I’m not usually a sentimental guy but as this years mother’s day approaches and I look at all the joy fishing has brought into my life over the years I feel compelled to say “Thanks mom!”