Thursday, July 17, 2025

Where the Memories Bite



June 17, 2025
For the past two weeks, I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with two of my favorite fishing buddies—Charlie and Trent.

It’s hard to believe how much time has passed. For those who remember when Charlie was born—so small and full of wonder—well, take a look at him now, towering over me like a young man who's found his stride. Watching him grow into someone who still enjoys time with his Pawpaw is something special. He’s the one who took us out on the water, made sure we had what we needed, and—most importantly—put up with me. Thank you, Charlie. You don’t know how much that means.

Trent, I hope this trip was everything you hoped for. We may not have checked off every item on the list, but we did the one thing you wanted most: we fished. And that’s more than enough for me. I saw joy in your eyes and felt peace in mine.

We caught more than fish on those early mornings—we caught moments I’ll hold on to for a long time. Laughter in the boat. Quiet ripples on still water. Silhouettes against the sunrise. These are the things that stay with you.

Boys, thank you both for the gift of your time. Pawpaw’s heart is full.


 

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

Finding Our Stillness

 


Finding Our Stillness

July 16, 2025 – Wednesday

“Love what you do and do what you love. Don't listen to anyone else who tells you not to do it. You do what you want, what you love.” ~ Ray Bradbury
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This morning, as I was out with my camera, I saw a simple moment that reminded me just how important it is to hold on to what brings you peace.  A man fishing alone on the pier — no rush, no noise, just him and the quiet rhythm of the water.

And I thought… that’s it. That’s what this is for him — the same way photography is for me.

It’s not about catching the biggest fish or getting the most likes. It’s about doing what speaks to your soul.

Every day, I try to find some small gem to capture — a flash of light, a quiet corner, a moment that might be missed. That’s where I feel like myself again, where I breathe a little deeper, and life slows down just enough for me to see.

We all have something that helps us connect — with ourselves, with the world, with others. For me, it’s through the lens. For him, it’s a cast line . But in the end, we’re all just trying to find those few moments that make us feel alive.
Pascagoula, MS

Finding Meaning in the Morning Light

 


July 16, 2025 – Wednesday

“You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.” ~ Albert Camus
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Each morning I tell myself, “This is the best sunrise yet,” only to find myself saying the same thing again the next day.
These past few mornings at The Point, the skies have been beyond words — a true gift to start each day.
Coming here each morning helps me center my heart and reminds myself that it’s really the simple things that make life rich. As we grow older, we learn that true joy isn’t found in searching for some big, hidden meaning — it’s found in these quiet moments, one sunrise at a time.
The Point, Pascagoula

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

A New Day, A New Cast


July 15, 2025 Tuesday

This morning at The Point, I held up a big fishing hook against the sunrise. It made me think how each day is like casting a line into the unknown — we never know what we might pull in, but there’s always hope waiting just beneath the surface. Sometimes it’s not about what we catch, but about the simple joy of casting out and watching the morning unfold. Just like that hook against the morning sky, life is full of possibility if we’re willing to throw out a line and see what comes back."

Monday, July 14, 2025

Lines in the Water, Lines in the Heart

 



Lines in the Water, Lines in the Heart

July 14, 2025
"Grandchildren: the only people who can make you feel old and young at the same time."  ~ author not given
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The last two weeks have felt like one big, joyful fishing trip, and I know I’m really going to miss all this excitement. I’ll be taking Trent home this Thursday, and Charlie starts high school next Wednesday (the 23rd). High school — it just doesn’t seem possible that Charlie has grown up so fast.

Charlie and Trent went to church with me yesterday, and my gosh, Charlie was towering over me, while Trent is now as tall as I am. Trent will be starting 8th grade when he gets back to Texas.

This was the first summer Trent came to stay with us, and all he wanted to do was go fishing. I think Charlie did an amazing job making that happen, and he also did a great job putting up with me. Charlie sometimes has a hard time understanding why Pawpaw can’t help with all the boat stuff. I keep telling him — where I grew up, folks didn’t have boats, and if they did, they were the “well-off” people. When Daddy and I went fishing, it was always from a pond bank or the river — no open water, no boats. Meanwhile, Charlie was learning to run a boat as soon as he could stand at the console!

It’s going to be quiet around here next week. I’ve enjoyed having the boys around so much and spending that time together. What really touched me was that they wanted me to go with them, even though they could have gone on their own. That’s where this quote fits so perfectly — they make me feel both old and young all at once.

I’m already looking forward to Trent coming back — and maybe, just maybe, McKenna will come stay with us for a week or so. I know Caroline and Mollie would love that, though I’m not sure how my wallet would hold up with three girls wanting Pawpaw to take them shopping! (But you know what? We would do it.)

Grandkids are such a blessing. I get to do so many things now that I didn’t have time for when my girls were small, and seeing life through their eyes is one of the greatest gifts I could ever ask for.


A Lesson from the Heron

 


July 14, 2025 – Monday
 “Slow down and enjoy the moment you're in and live your life to the fullest.” Nanette Mathews
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This morning at The Point, as I watched the sunrise and the gulls darting back and forth, a Great Blue Heron glided slowly across Yazoo Lake. Unlike the gulls rushing around, he moved calm and steady, almost like he had all the time in the world.

It made me think — this is what I need to do, too. Instead of always trying to think and do so many things at once, I need to just slow down, enjoy each second, and not worry about the next minute.

The Point, Pascagoula