Our lives are a sequence of events and people and places that tether us to the world as we know it. We often forget how fragile this lifeline is; that it never truly complete nor is it secure; and we never know when there may be a break in the chain.
There is a special quality to living on a 60-odd mile long peninsula, a sort of insulation from the real world that exists “over the bridge.” On that peninsula itself our lives run in ever smaller circles as we tend to gravitate toward those people with similar interests. We have new friends and old friends, work friends and acquaintances. And for those of us who play golf, we have our golf friends.
For many avid golfers, the course is central in our lives. We compete there, we eat there, we party there. Our lives revolve around it. While the course is not without change, as change is expected and unavoidable, golf is a basic constant to which we can return, again and again. There are hundreds of members who support our municipal golf through memberships but there are a select few who define it as more than a string of eighteen holes of grass and turf and a clubhouse; as players, employees or service people. Over the years we have forged a ring of friendships, made special because we share a bond, an affiliation to our golf course.
Within our circle, not all are players but everyone appreciates a love for the game. These friends will not squawk if we’re an hour late for a date; they know why we’re late. They don’t question why we might skip another event to play a match; of course, they understand, we have to play. No one expects anything more from anyone than a good game and a good time. No one expects anything; but there is more, so much more, to these friends.
We’ve grown accustomed to our quirks and differences and are the better for knowing each other. Whether it is with an early dawn welcome with a pot of coffee or a last nightcap together before the doors are locked, we shared laughs, we share concerns. As friends, we celebrate together and mourn together. Should a familiar face be missing from the crowd it feels like a broken link, and leaves us at loose ends. Management might change, some people come and go, but these friends are ours forever. In season, we see each other more than we see our immediate family, more than all our other friends combined. We have become a family and we are undisputedly linked together.
