At 88 years old, rheumatoid arthritis makes just about every movement painful for Edward. But he's not deterred.
He quickly reels it in and gives it another try. This time the cast sends the line some 20 yards into the pond — much better this time around.
  
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Tired, Edward turns the casting duties over to Doug Tea, who effortlessly zips the line across the pond, avoiding a stand of trees, and hands the rod back. Doug helped start the local Catch-a-Fish program (see related story) and is spending the few hours at the pond with Edward.
The sky clears a bit and after a few more unsuccessful attempts, Edward begins another slow reel in, and just as the line approaches the shore, he feels a quick nibble and then a tug.
Despite the pain in his shoulder, Edward has just enough to sink the hook into a rainbow trout. As he reels it in, Doug grabs a long, black net and gets it under the flailing fish. Doug releases the hook and hands the fish to Edward, who cracks a huge smile, holding the catch of the day.
Just months earlier, Edward never imagined having one more day fishing or that he would be gripping a fish so tightly in his hands.
The wait
Edward sat in the waiting room of his family doctor in December 2008, bracing for the news he was about to receive. He had gone to see his personal physician, Dr. Mindy Miller, months earlier after developing pneumonia. He was on antibiotics, but something still wasn't right with his breathing. They did a bronchoscope and now the results were back.
Dr. Miller had called him in to give him the news.
It wasn't that long ago he had sat in the very same office with his wife, Evelyn. At 93, she had always told Edward she was "robbing the cradle."
He and Evelyn were close — 53 years together tends to do that in a marriage. But she was dying, her organs were malfunctioning and she was in pain.
On March 26, 2008, Evelyn ended up in ICU. She had finally worn out.
Edward held her head close to him and clutched her hand. Doctors kept her pain down with morphine, but she was slipping away.
"She opened her eyes and looked at me," Edward says at the dinner table of his quaint home in Montrose. Tears well up in his eyes. He looks down at his hands, pulling the memory together. "She says to me, that she loves my children and please never forget I love you very much."
Thirty seconds later, she closed her eyes for the final time, dying in Edward's hands. The pain was so much, her grip so tight, it left dark bruises on his hand — marks that are still there today, serving as a painful reminder.
But now he sat waiting for his news.
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