“Time to wake up, son. We’re here,” my father said as he wrestled the rusty shifter into the faded red P.

With my eyes still closed, I stretched my arms, half expecting to accidentally hit him in the face, but he was already gone.

“Hey!” I called, rushing to catch up with him. I jumped down to the soft earth of the lakeshore, cushioning my landing just enough to keep me upright. My legs were tingling and weak after sitting idle during our three hour trip upstate.

“Dad, the lake’s not going anywhere whats the rush?You forgot the poles! Hey, Dad?” I called out, hearing no response from the man standing at the foot of an old, forgotten dock. As I walked closer, I could see more of his face. First, his open but relaxed eyes reflecting the gentle waves. Then, his mouth, quivering slightly like a recently killed fish. Lastly, his brow, raised in a mix of confusion and wonder.

“Dad? Is everything okay?” I asked, standing at his side.

As he turned his head to look at me, his face lit up. “Son, this is a sight I haven't seen since I was your age. Your grandfather used to bring me to this very dock every summer, and by God, I can't believe it's still here!”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” I said, sarcastically. “But we’re going to find a more... uh... stable dock to fish from, right?”

“Oh, hush! We'll be just fine here. They don't make 'em like this anymore,” he said as he bounced on the rickety old dock.

“Okay, okay! I get it! Just stop before you fall in. I might be able to reel in a bass, but I’m not sure you’d even take the bait,”

He chuckled and sent me to grab our gear. In a few minutes of well-rehearsed fishing preparation, our bobbers were floating on the waves of that peaceful lake.

After a couple of hours and a quick lunch, the sun began to descend over the forested hills to the west, its rays casting a warm gradient of summer across the sky. As we reeled in our lines and packed up, my father paused. “You know, it’s been decades, but I just realized—this is the same lake where I met your mother. You know, when I fell in, and she had to help me back up onto the dock. This dock!” A pause.“I was so content being a careless kid that I didn’t notice all I had overlooked.”

“That’s pretty special, Dad,” I said, half-listening. “Alright, it’s getting late, and we should really get going. Mom sa—”

“Hold on, just give me a minute. Let’s enjoy this, soak it in.”

“While you stand there soaking, I’m going to take a piss on that tree. I know we’re not stopping on the ride home.” A tad annoyed, I walked to a tree that stretched out over the water, illuminated by the warm reflection of the sky on the waves. I leaned on that old oak and reflected on what this moment must mean to my father. Coming back to a place long forgotten by many, yet still standing after all these years, like it was waiting for us. I watched my father's sharp silhouette standing on that special dock, its misshapen lines and every splinter clearly defined. Then suddenly, the tree gave way from its roots, and I fell into the mud below. I wiped the muck from my face and grabbed the thin hand stretched towards me.

“You’ve got to be careful what you lean on around here. Some of this stuff is ancient… I’m Holley, by the way.”