It was June 1st, the perfect summer day. He wanted to go fishing. He really wanted to go fishing before it was too late. We bought poles and worms and finally a license. Each step presented new obsticles and roadblocks but finally the way was clear. We went fishing. We did not go far, just down the road. We found the perfect place on the perfect day and got our lines in the water. I strive to remember the look on his face as he got his wish. The sunshine lit up his face and the intense pleasure filled his whole being. I worried about his hairless head getting sunburned and causing him even more pain. I worried that he would get worn out and tired, or weak with pain. I worried that he would get discouraged waiting for the fish to bite. But none of that happened. It was the perfect enchanted day. For hours he caught fish, lots of little sunfish. Each little fish was a triumph and trophy. And when the sun was going down we finally loaded up the car and called it a day. He caught the fish, he cleaned the fish, and he ate the fish. What a day! The most perfect day. I want to remember every minute. There really was so little time left...I wonder if he knew that?
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