Personal Narrative Final Copy: Love Is Not Always Spoken

My Pilkki

            A gentle touch woke me up from a deep sleep.  When I opened my eyes I could see my grandfather, Isoisä’s, face close and heard his whisper.

 “It’s time to go.”

 I rubbed my eyes and stretched my eight year old little arms as far as I could.  I thought, I barely went to bed, it’s already morning?  Isoisä –as I called him, which means “grandfather” - had already left the room by the time I was awake enough to get out of bed.  By now I was wide awake and remembered why we were getting up so early.  We are going fishing!  That was something I really enjoyed, especially with Isoisä.  I hopped out of bed and threw my clothes on.  When I entered the living room, he was almost ready to go.

 “I’ve made sandwiches for us, they are in the kitchen.  Would you go and get them please.”  Isoisä spoke quietly, so as not to wake up my grandmother, Isoäiti.  He had gotten up earlier and fixed the sandwiches of rye bread and cheese.  I found them on the kitchen counter wrapped up in wax paper to keep them fresh.  There was also a small metal can of milk.  I quickly grabbed both of them and went back to the living room.

 “I have them here.”  I said in a whisper as I handed them to Isoisä.  He placed them in his fishing bag.  We were ready!

            It was already light outside.  In the summer it’s not dark very long in Finland.  It is so far up north that the sun only dips behind the trees for a little while and it actually never really gets dark.  I was glad that it wasn’t, because I really didn’t like to ride my bike in the dark. 

            I had received a small pink bike for my birthday that summer.  I actually had my own bike!  Now I could ride it as we headed to the sea.  Isoisä rode his big bike fast.  I had a rough time keeping up with him.  The country road was bumpy and I had to be careful not to slide and fall.  The first part of the trip wasn’t too bad, but the part that I dreaded was the dark forest that we had to ride through.  When we got to the edge of the forest my feet pumped as fast as they could on the pedals.  I did not want to be left too far behind, just in case.  After the forest there were fields, and I could smell the salty seawater as we neared the shore.

            There it was - the sea.  I could feel the gentle wind on my face and blowing my long brown hair.  I loved that feeling. 

“Come on Satu, hop in the boat.”  Isoisä called from the boat where he was sitting.  I quit my daydreaming and knew there would be more of that as we sat at our favorite fishing spot.  

As I climbed into the small motorboat, Isoisä warned me, “Careful now.  Here is your pole.”

“Thank you.”  I replied.  Isoäiti had taught me to be polite and I tried to remember to have good manners.  He handed me my fishing pole, which fit me perfectly.  It was about a ½ inch thick piece of a branch that had been made into a fishing pole for me (called a “pilkki”).  It had little stubs left over from branches that had been cut off.  They were used to wind the fishing line on.  The “pilkki” itself was only about two feet long.  Isoisä had made a hole at the tip of it through which the line went.

            The motor sputtered and coughed as Isoisä pulled the rope to get it started, but he knew how to get it going and soon we were on our way.  There were islands that we had to go around because this was not the open sea.  His boat wasn’t fast which gave me a chance to sing while the motor was humming.  My favorite spot was in the very front of the boat.  There was a triangle bench there which I would sit on, though my favorite thing was to kneel on it so I could see where we were going.  The edge of the boat protected me from the wind when it got too cold.  I loved singing but was timid about letting others hear me and this was a good time to sing because the sound of the motor would drown out my voice.  But, when the motor stopped, so did my singing.

            Isoisä took out the oars and rowed to the exact spot while the wind tried to move us to where it wanted us to go.

 “Stay there until I get the anchor out,” Isoisä instructed me as I turned around to look at him. 

“Okay,” I replied and sat quietly while he got the anchor dropped into the water.  The anchor was a large heavy rock that had a thick rope tied around it, but it worked as well as a store bought one.  Now we were down to business; the fishing was about to begin!

 Isoisä pulled out a small box which enclosed slimy wiggly worms in a little bit of soil.  He had taught me how to put on my own worm on the hook.

 “Get your hook ready, but be careful not to poke yourself.”

 “I’ll be careful,” I answered as I cautiously held the hook in my left hand.  With my right hand I selected a worm from the box.  It took a lot of maneuvering to get a slimy worm onto the hook.  Isoisä watched, but didn’t help.  He knew that I could do it, and I did.  He had taught me well.

We both threw our lines into the water and started our patient waiting.  This could have been a good time to talk, but that is not how we fished.  We both sat there silently and watched our poles.  Isoisä was not a man of many words, especially to an eight year old.  Besides, we didn’t want to scare the fish away with our jabbering.  So there we sat thinking, daydreaming, and hoping to catch enough fish for lunch.  It was never an uncomfortable silence; it was just how things were.

            Isoisä had taken me fishing since, well, I really don’t remember when – always.  When the wind was right Isoisä and I would go fishing.  It was a time for us to connect, to show that we enjoyed spending time together.  Yes, even without words. 

“I got one, I got one!” I exclaimed excitedly.

 “Careful now,” warned Isoisä.  “Remember to let it nibble until it’s caught and then jerk the line hard and start pulling it up.”  He got the net ready and lowered it into the water to prevent an escapee.  One good sized fish would at least guarantee fish soup.  I was excited! 

            “I got another one!”  

This was going to be a good day for fishing as both of us took turns bringing in our hooks with fish.  One rule that Isoisä had was that the one who caught the fish also had to clean it.  With a little help, I cleaned my fish.  The seagulls eagerly waited near the boat, because they knew that Isoisä would throw the guts out to them for their breakfast.  Breakfast!  I was hungry too!  We cleaned our hands in the salty water and ate our sandwiches before heading back to show off our catch.  Isoäiti would be waiting for us anxious to see how much we caught.

            This was going to be a good day; I could tell.   I was spending time in the best place with the best people that I could think of.