When Mama goes fishing she doesn’t like to throw anything back. Her only exceptions are females carrying eggs and fish that are smaller than a butterbean. “I would keep that fish,” she’ll say as I’m about to toss one into the water. Sometimes she adds, “Pearlie and I used to keep fish smaller than that.”

Pearlie Frederick lived in a small house in my grandmother’s backyard for decades. She helped Grandmama keep the grounds and spent countless hours entertaining my mother. They fished along the nearby stream using homemade poles and wigglers dug in the woods. There wasn’t a minimum size for keepers, partly because the stream was too shallow for big fish.

At 99 Mama still loves to go fishing. She needs help with everything except watching the cork, but does that with intensity. Even a slight bobble brings excitement. When her cork goes under she urgently calls for help. “It’s a big one!” she’ll proclaim before knowing. “I don’t want to lose him!” I’ll grab the line and pull her catch onto the dock. That’s when the trouble starts. “That’s the size I like to eat,” she’ll say emphatically. “I want to keep these fish!” The dialogue is very predictable.

“My son takes me fishing,” she tells people, “but he won’t let me keep the fish.” I used to occasionally clean and cook them, but my preference for buying them fried keeps growing stronger. It’s not so much about keeping the fish, I think, as it is holding onto the memories. Granddaddy Hill used to buy speckled trout from Mr. Ruis in Hawkinsville for Grandmama to cook on Saturday nights. During my early childhood we’d often join them. I enjoyed those suppers immensely, unaware though how long the taste of love can linger.

On December 9th Mama will be 100. We had a big party when she turned 98. It was wonderful, but she only got to visit briefly with those who came. We’re taking a low-key approach to this one plus spreading it out. The families of her nieces and nephews are getting together in early November. Daddy’s side will gather the week after. On or near her actual birthday our family will quietly celebrate and take her to see some Christmas lights.

I’m hoping a lot of other friends and kin will call, send a card, or visit her before then. She enjoys phone calls but especially loves seeing people. Most afternoons are okay to stop by. If you’ll contact me I can make sure. Weather permitting, you’ll want to sit on the front porch or back patio. Ruru, her aging chihuahua, has anger management issues. Cards may be sent to Margaret H. Joiner, 3469 Third District Rd., Unadilla, GA  31091.

There’s one other possibility for those who are exceptionally brave. You’re welcome to take her fishing for a couple of hours. Be forewarned, however, that she checks her hook often. “I think something got my bait,” she’ll say. And if the worms are small she’ll want two. “I like to fish with a lot of bait,” she’ll explain.

If you decide to take her on an outing there’s one other thing you’ll need to keep in mind. When Mama goes fishing, she doesn’t like to throw anything back.