Golfing with Dad

Later in his life, my father picked up the game of Golf. When he retired, he was actually getting pretty good, even had a hole in one once. My mom still displays the plaque proudly in her office.

I enjoyed hitting the little white ball around with my dad. I've never picked up the game very seriously, but I would play at least once a year with my dad around Father's Day. Those were good experiences. If you don't play a game well, you should be able to go with your father and have him uplift you. Dads are supposed to be encouragers, and my dad was. I cannot count how many mulligans, how many do overs, how many strokes he gave me over the years. Somehow, my score was never that bad, especially for someone that played Golf once or twice a year.

Dad would also give me his old clubs, sometimes even his new ones. Unfortunately, they are now sitting in the barn... I guess waiting for the right occasion, the right situation, the right moment to be picked up and swung. I'm looking forward to getting closer to that retirement age. I know I still have quite a few years to go, but the thought that I can be in my mid-60s, Dad would have passed away for more that 25 years and I will have a fresh opportunity to remember him, every time I pick up a club. Maybe, my daughters would enjoy walking around with their dad when they get older. Life is so full of choices, of moments, of potential memories... I'm looking forward to all of them.

At his golf club, once again, my dad would make friends with everyone. He was friends with the Marshall, the lady behind the counter, the Mexican gentleman that kept the grounds, the other members, young or old, man or woman, it didn't matter. Dad knew how to be a friend.

There is a saying in life: "If you want a friend, be one first". My dad never lacked friends. I don't think that ever was so clear to me as right after he passed away... but I'll keep that thought for tomorrow.