- Blog
- March 16, 2026
Fly Fishing Flies and Mortality
A family friend gifted me her father’s fly box. He has dementia and can no longer fly fish. I find myself unsure how to express my thoughts and emotions.
I’m always happy to accept someone else’s flies, especially if they tied the flies themselves. My favorite part about tying my own flies is catching fish with something I created. A close second favorite is sharing my creations with other people.
Handmade flies are a fly tier’s calling card. Two people using the same materials and patterns will create different flies based on their distinct styles and personalities. Every handmade fly is different.
My friend’s father’s fly box looked completely different from mine. The majority of my flies are drab-colored dry flies. I only keep a few nymphs and wet flies on hand for when I exhaust my dry fly options. Most of my subsurface flies are relatively small with a touch of color.
His fly box was filled with big, colorful nymphs and wet flies. I could immediately tell that we fished vastly different styles by looking at his flies.
He had a dozen big mop and egg flies that I never considered adding to my lineup. Those flies were never of interest to me. I’m excited to try them out this season, though.
I appreciated his flies’ untidy looks. I like to tie messy flies. My flies don’t look clean or professional. My flies look buggy, and I think trout like buggy flies.
My friend’s father’s flies represent something on a deeper level for me, too. My own father has dementia. We recently had to move him to a memory care facility.
I’m not young anymore, but I know most people would scoff at a 36-year-old calling themselves old. I do feel old, though. I originally typed my wrong age two sentences prior. I described a 22-year-old soccer player as a ‘kid’ earlier this week.
I’m currently sitting in a chair with a binder wrapped around my stomach. I’m recovering from a hernia repair surgery. I also have to remember to take daily medication to manage my chronic pain. I have arthritis in my spine and fingers.
Hernias and arthritis are common in men. But they’re usually reserved for men nearly twice my age. I don’t doubt that my friend’s father’s and my father’s fate await me. I haven’t fully processed that yet.
I suppose it would be nice to know that someone will use my flies after I pass. But I’m not particularly interested in leaving something behind. I don’t care about anything keeping my memory alive.
I just hope that my wife and kids don’t need me when I go.
