A True Fisherman

Mrs. Cedar lost a client very unexpectedly. He went in for a routine outpatient surgery and within five days developed an infection went in to septic shock and died. 

I did not know this man and my wife had only talked to him by phone. But she felt compelled to attend his funeral because he was always so kind and gracious.

The poem below was given out at his funeral and I thought this was a pretty thoughtful tribute to someone I didn't know. 

But also it seems fitting and true of many friends and family members I've lost over the years as well:

A true fisherman

knows when and where

the fish are biting.

He rises up early in the morning,

plying the water for that

elusive catch,

waiting in the stillness for a nibble

A slight twitch in the line,

expertly he reels it in -

A good fisherman

knows a keeper when he sees one,

he knows when to toss one back,

and when to head for home.

Stewart Hill was 60.

I wish we had met, perhaps we will meet one day.