How fishing with the grandkids saved “Pappy” Doughtie from the COVID isolation blues

I’m not sure how this pandemic has affected you, but in my world, it has been pretty darn stressful.

Though most say I act like a 14 year old, I hate to admit that in reality I ain’t no spring chicken. And If it weren’t for the water, I would be a total nut case.

Other than a handful of friends that I know are doing the right things to prevent getting this awful disease, I pretty much keep to myself.

To me, the hardest part is not being able to hang with out-of-town friends. Even harder? Not seeing family members who liive elsewhere.

My son Logan lives in Los Angeles and at this point in time, there is no way I am getting on a plane and heading to that hotspot.

While closer, my daughter Camden and grandchildren Benjamin and Alice live in Charlottesville, Va., but because she is an orthodontist, she and I both felt that getting together might not be a wise decision considering she is a dentists. Of the body to treat, she had to pick a field that had her inches away from a patient’s face with her hands in their mouths all day. I did help her get the best of the best masks, face shields and disposable gowns but even with all that, her’s is not the best profession to be in during this Covid-19 nightmare.

A younger, smarter and way more attractive clone of me, she and I talk or Facetime daily.

Since the beginning of the outbreak, we held it together fairly well but as most of you will probably agree, the longer this isolation goes on, the harder it gets. She and I both reached a breaking point of sorts and agreed that if my wife Karen and I both got tested and Camden, her husband Andrew and both grand kids also got tested, they would drive down so we could have a week together.

All I can say is that it was just what the doctor ordered for all of our psyches.

Anybody who has grandchildren will tell you that any and all contact with them is the best. As much as I hate saying this, it might be almost more appealing than raising your own kids because should they get tired and cranky, all you have to do is give them back.

That was bad wasn’t it?

Ben is 4 while Alice turns 7 in September. Both are awesome and affectionate. To them, I am Pappy, my wife Karen is Gigi.

When the kids first burst through the door, I was floored by how much they had grown in the six months since I last saw them. Since their dad is 6’6”, I shouldn’t be all that surprised.

So how did I keep them entertained when going to a movie, or even a restaurant, was out of bounds?

I knew you would figure that one out - we spent nearly every minute on or near the water.

Alice had only fished once with me two or three years ago and Ben had yet to wet a line in his short lifetime so it was time for Pappy to shine.

I think I was more excited about letting Ben catch his first ever fish, that is until the line started peeling off his and his sister’s rods at the same moment. I know grown-ups who still have issues handling a spinning rod and reel so I was floored when they both held onto bent-over rods, rod tips held high (as I had instructed them earlier) while reeling in a redfish and flounder perfectly.

I would love to attribute some sort of genetically-born ability that may have been passed on from me to my daughter and then from her to both kids, but that might be more my ego than scientific fact.

Guess they were just naturals.

We fished just about every day along with highly successful artifact hunting excursions. We dined nightly on the fish they caught.

I swear that get together saved me.

As they were ready to pull away and head home, Ben burst into tears and said he didn’t want to leave while Alice gave me a hug and whisperedin my ear: “I think I like fishing more than you do Pappy.”

Now what in the world can beat that?

For me, not a single thing.

This story was originally published August 27, 2020 at 12:38 PM.