Golf Fore the Good

Well, that’s that. Over 20″ of snow fell on our sandy little peninsula a week ago; despite several above-freezing days we enjoyed a white Christmas. I use the word “enjoyed” loosely, as most of the golfers I know are already chomping at the bit to get back out on the course. It could be a really long winter. Despite the snow cover and lack of on-course playing time, I connected with a lot of golf friends over the holiday. We shall all be miserable together until the tee opens up again. Still, there are brights spots in the gloom.

One of the best gifts of the season came to me early on Christmas Eve morning. My Blackberry rang; I answered to a familiar voice calling “hey” from the other end. The chill melted from my heart like icicles falling off the roof line. “Hey!” I answered. My friend had moved away almost a year ago–a full season of golf had passed without his return, not even a guest appearance. He had played every day in his new locale; his handicap had fallen to an impressively small number. I was happy for him if not a little jealous. Even so, I could hear a wistfulness in his tone, missing the old gang, the pick-up mini-loops, the silly bets and the easy laughter of long summer afternoons. There is something about your first home course you never get over. I missed him, too. Next year, for certain, we’ll get together and play a round. Until then, it was great to hear his voice.

Mid-morning I received a second phone call. It was my very dear and elderly golf companion. She wanted to get together for lunch. How can I possibly take the time, I thought? I was so busy cooking, cleaning and preparing; there is never enough time for it all. And then I realized how true that thought was; there is never enough time. There is not enough time to spend with our friends, to play all the golf we want, to appreciate the simple things in life. Priorities, my friend, are of our own choosing. I could certainly carve out an hour for lunch. Whatever else did not get wrapped or baked, or bought or dusted, a bit of my time spent in the company of one of the kindest, most generous women and golfers I know was not to be missed. Our visit was brief. I quickly went on about my remaining chores but my step was lighter, my list seemed shorter.

Sometimes the best Christmas gifts are unexpected. There’s something about a no-brainer thirty footer; the sculled shot that ends up kicking distance to the hole; or an errant drive that looks bound for the woods but kicks back into the fairway. There’s nothing like a phone call from an old friend or a hour spent with a special mentor. These are all gifts; wonderfully forgiving and somewhat magical… just like Christmas.