When I was young we went camping as a family. My grandparents and quite a few of my mom's brothers and sisters and their kids. We would have nearly half the campground to ourselves, the family is so big.
These were probably my favorite moments of my childhood summers. Beautiful warm days, all together at Lake Solberg in Phillips.
One time, Laura and Lenny were there, my mom's aunt and uncle. They wanted to go fishing off the dock and they invited me too. My dad had gotten me my own fishing gear, so I was all set. They showed me how to cast, and reel the line in. It was with them that I had caught my first fish. I remember being so proud, and their smiles shining on me with pride.
After that my dad and I went fishing when we would go camping without the family and it would be just me and him.
Every family reunion I would stop by them to say hi and they would always ask how my fishing was going. When we stopped camping they would just ask about me. With such a big family, and not being the loudest of the crowd, it's easy to sink in your own little corner, pigeon-holed to a typecast that someone else fits on you.
But they always saw me. Maybe they saw the little girl I was, with that tiny fish that one summer.
And now, Lenny died. And I'm going to miss seeing him.
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