There is no reason for me to stop fishing. I cannot stop, nor will I. Sure, there may be some discomfort, but I will never admit defeat to the elements. As long as I stand on my two feet, I will continue to fish, continue to inhale the fresh dawn air, and continue to feel the crisp morning breeze in my face. My mind is much too strong to lose to my body. If I wake up in the morning, I will cast my net, reel in my catch, and head for home, head back to my ungrateful household. After all the sacrifices I have made, this is the thanks I get.
That ungrateful daughter of mine. I host her for 48 years, yet she dares to criticize me, criticize me for providing for her and this family. What I did was justified, keeping this family afloat is a justifiable action, by whatever means. What has she done to help this family? I don’t see her awakening at three o’clock, going through something as physically bearing as fishing, much less at the age of seventy. I do this for her, and for my family, just so we can have a sustainable lifestyle. Although this may not be the lifestyle she says her God wants, it works. And besides, in the past two years, all she has done is further burden this family, bringing in a stray husband to take more than his keep in the pot that is this household.
Her God is simply a scare tactic, she ensists He will punish me. But if the Lord wanted to stop me, He would have made me admit defeat, tricking my mind into thinking I could no longer provide for this family. If it were His will, I would be in that damned home, unable to fish, unable to do anything. Being controlled, having no freedom, bells for everything. But if the Lord’s will dictated me stopping, I would have been caught and punished by the fish inspector. I will remain in place. In my home, continuing to fish, as long as the Lord gives me the strength and I am physically able to get up in the morning.