Today was like any normal day, at least in terms of my activities.  When I got out of bed and tied my tie, I went to work.  Meetings, email, decisions.  But, while I was having my mundane day, something extraordinary was happening in my family.

It started over a week ago.  My father was getting nostalgic, and he wanted to do something special for Elizabeth.  He started taking her for 3 or 4 hours a day.  They’d go to the hardware store to buy 1000 feet of cord.  Or drop some eel traps off of Ft. Smallwood Rd.  Or assemble their trot line.  Or build their contraption for pulling the line up onto the side of the boat.  Or salting their eels.  Or baiting their line.  Or buying buckets to seal up all their equipment for afterwards.  Yesterday, they were at it most of the morning.  And Dad was still getting things together at 9 or 10 PM last night.

Today was the big day.  Dad had made arrangements to rent a boat for him and Liz on the Wye River, a 16ft skiff.  He knocked on the door at 4:15AM.  Liz went to the door, he put his arm around her and off they went in the darkness.  It had been almost 30 years since Captain Kennedy worked a trot line.  But he was in his element today.  He and Liz were on the water from 6:30AM til 3:30.  They hauled in a bushel and a half of crabs.  Big ones too.

When my mundane day ended, I got to realize what this was all about.  I came home to a crab feast.  Liz sat at the adult table with me, Pop Pop and Marcia.  We all picked crabs as Liz and Dad told us stories of their adventure.

As I cleaned up late at night, and helped my mom unload all the stuff from their car, it reminded me just how much of an adventure my father’s life has always been, and how he has always made it an adventure for his kids and now for his grandkids.  At work today, I interviewed someone for a User Experience director, someone nowhere near in tune with living life to the fullest as my father.  My father crafted the ultimate experience for Liz.

Unloading the car, I looked at all the contraptions.  I unloaded the weights that they made, that were tied to empty vinegar bottles which operated as buoys for the ends of the trot line.  They had cut ropes with loops to easily attach the buoys to ends of the trot line, designed for easy assembly and disassembly.  They had 1000 feet of trot lines neatly coiled in a bushel basket be bought used for $4.  The kicker was the trot line assembly crafted out of pieces of wood, cut cords, PVC piping, a garden hose hanger, some small metal pieces, and, of course, some duct tape.  Had it been me, I would have no idea how to do any of this.

A few years ago, I went fishing with George.  We paid money.  We went out on a boat.  Someone baited our lines, and we cast our lines in the water.  And pulled in fish.  George married into money.  And his in-laws bought a house on the bay, a pontoon boat, and crab pots and such so he can take his kids on adventures.  He takes his kids out, picks the crab pots out of the water, and his kids think they are crabbing.

Pop pop did something different for Liz.  She knows how to do it all now.  And she worked.  She assembled everything with Pop pop.  Went to the stores with him and got all the supplies.  Rigged it all up.  And worked the lines for 9 hours.  She earned her way.  And provided a load of crabs for the family.  She helped him haul it all in, clean up the boat, and pack up the car.  She did it all.

A special experience.  Much more than just a day of crabbing if you ask me.