Ever since I was a child, Okoboji has always been my most favored vacation destination but in the summer of 2012, it transformed into something much deeper. My family has always had a timeshare on West Okoboji Lake landing us two whole weeks of sun, water, and relaxation. My father is known for his extreme, almost obsessive, love for fishing, so at any given moment while in Okoboji, you are guaranteed to find him on the dock or in his boat fishing. Most of the time, my brother and I accompany my father while hunting for these water creatures simply because my dad has raised us up loving the sport just as much as himself. Every night after grilling dinner, my father and I trot on down to the lake, pole in hand, and cast out our baits, hoping for some big ones. This usually continues for hours until finally, around midnight, we decide it is time to hit the hay. That Thursday evening in June of 2012 started no different than any other traditional evening at the lake. I was clueless to the immense impact that night would have on the rest of my life.

With my brother Chris to my right and Justin invading my left side, I dipped the last bite of my juicy and freshly grilled cheeseburger in a mound of ketchup, then plopped it on my tongue. With the weight of a plentiful summer meal resting in my stomach, I leaned back in my chair and let out a drawn out sigh, life was good. “Ready to get back out there Paps?” I smiled to my dad. “I’ve gotta tie some jigs and buy some night-crawlers from the marina, then i’ll be ready, meetcha out there in 30 minutes, Missy?” yelled my dad. “Sounds good, 30 minutes,” I shouted.

Tonight was prospected to be a bit cooler. I meandered up the narrow cabin stairs, eyed my suitcase, and grabbed my favorite sweatshirt. As I poked my arm through, I felt the soft, fluffy cotton hug my skin. I walked outside and immediately noticed the slight breeze brush across my neck, just enough force to listen as the soft waves kissed the shore. I trudged down the dock to our usual spot to wait for my dad. As I retreated to my seat on the wood, I began swaying my feet back and forth over the edge. “Get ready for some action tonight, Missy Mae, I can feel it,” shouted my dad from behind. Nudging me with my favorite pole, I gripped the cold, slimy worm in my finger and stuck it’s lanky body around the hook 2 times, just like my dad had taught me so many years before. With both our poles out in the depths, we waited for any hungry fish to lurk by awaiting dinner. My dad and I shared a few words about the beautiful weather, work at the furniture store, and his “breakout” golf game. We didn’t mind sitting in silence either, we have just always been able to understand the other person without even saying a word. Although we kept getting bites, not a single fish was actually hooked. “All this work for nothing,” I thought to myself.

After the fiery, crimson sun fell beneath the horizon, we realized mother nature was not on our side that night because not even the smallest Minnow had been reeled in. With darkness creeping upon us, my dad asked if I’d like to drive with him to Spirit Lake, fifteen minutes north, to try a few spots there. Ignoring my exhaustion, I decided I would make the journey to Spirit Lake, hoping to reveal a bit more action there. After loading Guzzy, my dad’s gas guzzling SUV, we began our journey to Spirit Lake. As I sleepily glanced down at my watch, I realized it was already 11:30 P.M.

We finally reached my father’s sworn “honey hole”, and set our poles so they would be ready for some heavy action. After retreating my bottom to the dock once again, I felt my dad plop down on the bucket beside me. Above our heads, the sky was as clear as glass made of fine crystals. The illuminating full moon lit up the night sky like nothing I had ever seen before. Stars formed a thick blanket like they were quietly tucking in the sky for a long night’s slumber. It was truly an incredible sight; almost as if the angels had hand painted the sky themselves with their brushes of sparkling gold. In that moment, my father said something that will stick with me the rest of my life. “You know what Missy, It doesn’t bother me that we haven’t caught a thing, these are the kind of times that really matter, this is what life’s all about, we were given this beautiful earth and most people don’t think twice to enjoy it or even the silent moments we share with those we love.” I was speechless, what my dad had just spoken could not have been any closer to the truth, I had never thought about life that deeply. I had been so wrapped up in the fact we hadn’t caught anything, I hadn’t even realized what I was gaining from simply being with my father embracing nature. I realized most of my life had been spent like this, day by day, one worry to the next, never really slowing down and appreciating the things that really matter.

Suddenly, my bait shot down in the depths of the vast lake, I had a bite! Feeling a spark of happiness, an immense grin emerged within my cheekbones. Tension in hand, I quickly reeled up my intricately wrapped bait to reveal an eleven inch Blue Gill. Sure it wasn’t much at all in size but it was undoubtedly a real fish. In the past, I would have been quite disappointed in a miniature catch like this, but this night unveiled life through a different prospective; I was content with the small but mighty. I glanced down at my watch and discovered it was already 12:30 A.M., but suddenly, I wasn’t tired anymore.

My dad and I started talking about anything and everything, like the endless possibilities of our futures, dreams, and what it means to have true happiness. Amidst the soft waves and starry night, my dad made me realize the uselessness in worrying, “for it only makes one die a thousand deaths,” he said. It finally reached 2:00 A.M. so we decided it was in our best interest to head back to the cabin. Sitting in Guzzy, I felt my eyes become extremely heavy, as if weights of steel were attached to my eyelids. My mind slowly pondered upon the new world that had been unfolded before my eyes that evening. “For only the people who look with sparkling eyes, can the magic of the world be seen,” I thought to myself, and slowly, silently, I drifted off into the land where these magical dreams are made.