Life is full of unexpected events. Maybe it is better to skip a day at the lake or in the field and spend time with your wife, your son or daughter, maybe your mother or father or a good friend. I will be lost in the world for a little while trying to do all of the things Liz did for me.

1. Hunting and fishing can be an escape in trying times

Sometimes hunting and fishing just is not that important. What is important is life, and mine changed dramatically last week when my wife, Liz, passed away unexpectedly.

We first met in the eighth grade in Dallas’ Oak Cliff section. She was a cheerleader, and because I played basketball on the ninth grade team, I was a letterman with a sweater.

It wasn’t exactly a steamy romance. We would walk the halls together and after school we would walk around the neighborhood streets, me always trying to steal a kiss, but seldom succeeding.

But our relationship didn’t work out for several reasons. Integration was under way in Dallas and so was white flight to the suburbs or farthest limits of the city limits. My parents were part of the white flight, but were in no way racist. They worried about the education that was coming from a school suffering the pains of change. More importantly they were finally in a position to leave the little house on Utah Street, the first they’d bought together after World War II using the GI Bill both qualified for as veterans.

There was another kink in our relationship. She was Mexican, and after hearing of us publicly courting, her mother forbid Liz to see me again.

Life goes on and for almost 40 years we didn’t see each other again.

She got married, had kids and stayed in Dallas.

I got married, had kids and moved to East Texas.

Both of us divorced in 2007, and everything changed thanks to the internet and one of those websites that allows old classmates to find each other.

We did and haven’t been apart since.

Almost from the beginning we knew things were right. It only took holding hands once again.

Liz was a city girl. She had never even been to Tyler and when I asked her she was worried it might be too rural. Then she visited East Texas and decided we were not quite as redneck as she feared. It was especially OK when she found her way to the stores on Broadway.

But it was the trees, the giant pines and oaks that she really loved. Any drive through the country she would always comment on the trees and how pretty they were.

She didn’t even mind a house full of guns, animal mounts, camo and bird dogs.

Eventually the talk got around to marriage. I liked the idea, but didn’t actually rush into it. As a matter of fact, she gave a deadline of the end of October 2013.

I beat it by about two weeks. Later she admitted there would have been an extension had I not made the first deadline.

On our honeymoon we babysat her granddaughter, Zoe. On our first anniversary she was in Austin babysitting her newest grandson, Emmett. Fortunately her oldest grandson, Jacob, a Marine, had Uncle Sam watching him.

We were the odd couple, but it worked. I hunted and she shopped.

I watched football and she watched the Housewives from Who Knows Where.

I fished, and to the great surprise of her family and friends, so did she. She had gone fishing as a kid, but didn’t think much of live worms and scaling bream. When she learned about artificial worms and catch and release she suddenly had two rods and her own tackle box.

We fished mostly the lakes of friends. There were days I was ready to quit, but the sun hadn’t set and she wanted to keep casting. She caught a lot of fish. I unhooked every one of them, but never minded a bit.

And then came last Monday.

It was a gut-wrenching day. So surprising. So unexpected.

She had been sick, but not that kind of sick, at least not that she let on. But that was her way. She would always take care of others before herself.

Friday morning as I puttered around trying to get ready for the funeral I could hear her in my ear telling me not to worry about her, that instead she was worried about me.

I say all of that to say this. Life is full of unexpected events. Maybe it is better to skip a day at the lake or in the field and spend it with your wife, your son or daughter, maybe your mother or father, or a good friend. Or maybe a good way to spend that day with them is fishing or hunting.

All last week I would say to someone “We were going to do…,” and when I thought about why we didn’t the reasons seemed pretty weak.

For that I have my regrets.

During the week one of the things I reminded myself was that while physically my Liz was gone, the reality was that she would never be leaving me, her children or mine.

Some day her kids are going to have a question they would normally call to ask her advice on only to realize she is not there. They will make the decision on their own, then realize they did exactly what their mom would have told them to do.

Myself, I will be lost in the world for a while trying to do all of the things she did for me.

As my cousin Cheryl said, she may have been small in size, but she was the only person who could keep me in line.

 

— Have a comment or opinion on this? Email Steve Knight at outdoor@tylerpaper.com, follow him on Facebook at TylerPaper Outdoors and on Twitter @tyleroutdoor.