"Elliot," Dad called out.
I sat at our dinner table and was taking a bite out of the PB & J that I had made so I took a second to chew before responding.
"Yeah Dad?"
"Do you want to go fishing?"
The suggestion wasn't very surprising since Dad and I had taken a good few fishing trips before.
Fishing wasn't something I was very big on. It required lots of waiting and good timing which didn't work well with my impatience.
Plus, there wasn't really anything to do while I waited, making it somewhat boring.
Still, I liked going on fishing trips with Dad.
It gave me time to spend alone with him and learn more about his life.
And I didn't want to be rude by saying no.
"Sure."
**
It didn't take Dad and I a long time to get dressed, so we left the house pretty quickly.
The pier that we were going to was about a 30 minute walk from our house but it would've been much shorter by car.
However, both of us didn't mind walking so we didn't use our car.
While we walked, I used that time to think.
'Dad kinda reminds of Rowan. Or maybe Rowan reminds me of Dad? I don't know…'
My dad had always been a calm person.
His voice managed to somehow be soft yet stern and strong.
Perhaps his habit of speaking less, made his words more impactful.
And regarding Rowan, he spoke even less than Dad did.
'Hey, don't I usually hate silence?'
Silence was always a pain to me.
Yet, with certain people, I didn't mind the silence.
Maybe that meant I inherited a tiny bit of Dad too.
Once Dad and I reached the pier, fishing rods and bait in hand, we got near the water.
Then, we got everything ready, attached the bait, and cast our rods.
The waters were calm, unperturbed by the lives we lived.
That apathy was a confusing thing.
Emotions were very tricky, especially mine.
They caused so many issues and made me think so irrationally.
Those issues and that thinking interfered with my life so greatly. Yet, without emotions you couldn't enjoy a life without said issues.
'Maybe I'll figure out how I feel about that later on.'
That contradiction could be entrusted to a more mature version of myself.
In the meantime, I had a question to ask.
"Hey Dad," I called out.
"Yes?"
"Why'd you become a lawyer?"
I hadn't mentioned this before, but my father was a public defense attorney, a really good one at that.
Even though my mom had her job as a librarian, my father was the main bread winner of the household.
That had always led me to wonder why exactly he liked his job.
"I wanted to get better at speaking. I have always been quiet but when I was a kid, I had a lot of communication issues," Dad replied, eyes on water.
I took a moment to ponder his response before asking a follow up question.
"But what about the people you have to defend? What if you get a guy you think might be guilty but you still have to defend anyway? Isn't that worrying?"
Dad let out a soft sigh.
"Well, that's the thing, I'm supposed to defend them. My job is to defend the person in court, it is up to the prosecutor to prove their guilt. I trust that if they truly are guilty, the prosecutor will prove that they are. And I trust my client to be innocent, no matter the circumstance," he answered.
'I hadn't thought of it that way before…'
My father's way of thinking only truly worked if he had faith.
Faith in the prosecutor, the client, and himself.
That trust, that faith, was a very powerful thing.
'Damn, then how I'd end up like this?'
If I couldn't trust people I did know, I knew I wouldn't have been able to trust strangers.
No matter if my father was right in his approach or not, he still had the courage to do it.
He became a lawyer in order to improve and change, and he did.
But what about me? I wasn't like that at all.
My parents had put so much time and effort into raising me, but I had nothing to show for it.
I felt the smooth wooden handle of the fishing rod against my palm as I clenched them.
For a moment, I thought it might've been better if I wasn't born at all.
'No. Don't think that way.'
My father was a great man. So shouldn't I try to be like him?
If my father set out to change, and actually did, I was going to do the same.
Because that was what I needed to do.
'!'
I felt a tug on my fishing rod.
'What?'
"Quick! Start reeling it in," Dad instructed.
I began to reel as fast as I could, and a fish soon came up.
'I did it!'
I had caught a fish, and a goal.
Two things to be proud of.