I was raised by my Grandparents, I learned to love fishing and spending time outside from them, with them. They were both very aged and beaten down from things that we have never had to deal with, World Wars, Ore mines, Great Depression, Dust Bowls and a host of other things that would destroy our modern generations. However when we went fishing I got to see them both relax, smile, and some of the burdens of life and age were lifted. Grandma fished with a cane pole, and Grandpa with a Zebco 33 combo that he received from his co-workers at Cessna Aircraft when he retired. We were your typical bucket fisherman, I am not ashamed, we kept everything, small perch, bass, crappie, whatever we could catch. We would take them home and clean them and have them for dinner the next night. Sometimes I still dream about these times shared, I never know quite how to feel, if I should smile because I remember them, or cry because I was too young to appreciate them enough. Either way it is part of who I am, and I count myself lucky to have had two people who loved me and shared their love of fishing and the outdoors with me.