Memorial Day is the time of year to reflect, remember and honor those that have given their lives for our nation’s freedom. It’s synonymous for many for a relaxing three-day weekend replete with grilling, relaxing, fishing and family get-together’s.

We’re no different. This year, for us, Memorial Day weekend will be celebrated by spending the weekend fishing and grilling in Kentucky. It a long way away from where we were last year, in Florida.

Life has a way of turning upside down when you least expect it. For me, it came when we moved from Florida to Kentucky in September 2011.

After spending the last twenty-three years in the Sunshine State, we called it quits.

Gone are the days of salt-water fishing, trolling the deep blue ocean for tuna and mahi-mahi, or bottom fishing in the warm, turquoise flat-calm of the Gulf of Mexico. Gone are the day-trips to the white, sandy beaches on the coast and the flip-flop and shorts-attired tiki-style bars. Gone is the relaxed walk-anywhere lifestyle that came from living in an idyllic, urban neighborhood. Gone are the diverse, fancy restaurants with fresh fish and lovable chefs who’d pamper us with amuse-bouche. But most important and the biggest treasure of all, would be the loss and closeness associated with having our great, dear friends live within walking minutes of our front porch.

Life has a way of straightening itself right again, too.

Now that we’ve settled down in our new digs, we’ve come to love what the rural landscape of Western Kentucky has to offer. Nature. Lots of it, or rather, acres of it. We have privacy that comes in the form a monster-sized backyard. And our favorite furry, four-legged Reagan gives us more love than we’d ever expect to get from any of our darling friends in Florida. We’re closer to our families than we ever expected. And we’re okay with that, in fact, we down right love it!

We also have a plethora of fresh water lakes that are teaming with bass, bluegill, crappies, water lilies and blue heron. I don’t worry about beady-eyed, black-scaled alligators any more who’d lurked on the edges of the lakes or just under the surface of the water. In fact, here, domesticated, docile, brown-eyed deer rest under canopies of oaks, and hickories at the water’s edge. They watch us from the shade with slightly cautious eyes, unafraid.

Now, when I fish, I cast, cast and cast some more. Our trusty sixteen-foot john boat with its trolling motor gives us the perfect opportunity to rise with the sun, load up the boat with our rods and the cooler. Within a few miles, the only sounds we hear are whizzing sounds of our lines, the plop of the lure on the still, flat water and the Canadian geese, honking their good morning salutations. Ours is a peaceful, quiet world.

This Memorial Day we’ll reflect, remember and honor those that died supporting our rights and freedom. On the lakes of Western Kentucky and in our very own backyard.