We holed out the last putt on nine much too soon. Filled with highbrow thoughts of a new season, rebirth and the miracles of life, I was sure I would pound out a much-overdue blog post as soon as my holiday family obligations had been met. Then–poof!–life slapped me down, and before I knew it I was waking up, exactly one week later, from the gray haze of anesthesia. As it turned out, that was only round one; what started as a fight with a very nasty appendix turned into an extended 6-1/2 week slugfest, causing me to miss the best spring we’ve had for golf in over a decade.

While the daffodils came and went, I noticed just a blur of yellow as my husband and I sped back and forth to the emergency room. First the dogwoods, then the cherry trees, burst out in white and pink blooms; I was amazed when I peered out a 5th floor hospital window and saw a riot of color where days–or was it weeks?–before, the landscape had been a mat of gray and brown. As good health began to return to my weary bones, I cautiously made my way out to my back deck, reveling in glorious sunshine. When had the red maple popped out its crimson leaves? How had I missed the unfurling of the buds of the oak and locust trees? And when, darn it, it would I be back on the golf course?

The doctor snickered when I implored, “So when can I play golf?” My husband just shook his head, knowing that no matter what the answer, I was sure to push the envelope. One afternoon, I was up and dressed and feeling halfway human. I begged my spouse to drive me to the golf course. We stood, hand in hand, on the patio off the pro shop and looked out to the first tee. The course was never more beautiful, a quadrillion shades of green velvet, prettier than any party dress a girl every owned. I soaked up its energy and went home bolstered by the good wishes of many familiar faces–faces browned from numerous rounds in the spring sunshine and warm with welcoming smiles. “Good to see you back,” they chimed. It was good to be back, if not quite on the tee box.

A few more weeks of rest and recuperation–not without its share of ups and downs–and the day finally came when I dared to nudge my husband. “How about nine holes?” I cautiously suggested. I fully expected him to rush to the garage and hide my clubs in attempt to keep me from overtaxing the tiny bit of energy I’d so newly acquired. “Sounds good. There’s nothing I would rather do.” He dialed us up a 1:54 tee time and we both grinned ear to ear with expectation. After all, he’d been right there with me through the whole ordeal; he could use a little R&R himself.

Because I live in a golf town filled with some very exceptional players, we came to find our foursome filled with two good friends who both happen to be superb golfers. Neither cared that I was currently a better candidate for the ladies’ niners than a competitive match; they knew how much it meant to me to return to the game. I couldn’t stop smiling even when my stiff muscles produced a less than perfect turn and I went all arms, over the top, dumping my ball 50 yards out in the left rough. Sure, it would have been nice to whack that first tee shot down the middle but, in truth, nobody really cared where it went. I was out on the course. It could only get better from there. And it did.

My game, like my recovery, was not without its ups and downs–certainly it wasn’t always up and in. But there were bright spots: a well hit sand wedge, a couple of smooth strikes right down the middle, a birdie putt or two. Pin high in two on the number one stroke hole, an all-uphill-all-the-way par four, with a fine lob wedge from the rough and a putt for par made my day. My stellar companions holed out a birdie or five, and one quietly sunk an eagle putt, his modesty testament to his honest respect for the game.

My husband kept his own eagle watch, eyeballing me for signs of fatigue. Adrenalin kept me going until the final ball dropped on nine. Under normal circumstances, nine is just a tease, a drop in the bucket, never enough to quell a golfer’s thirst. That afternoon, it was a sweet long draft, nectar of the golf gods. It was a reminder of all that was good about the game, a taste of the season to come. Long summer days of good health lay ahead, good for 18, 27, maybe even 36 holes. There’s really never enough time for golf but, this one day, it was just enough.

“How much fun was that?” my husband sighed, perhaps even more relieved than I that we’d arrived back at the clubhouse with me upright and intact. “It was awesome,” I exhaled as I crumpled into the car and headed home for a 13 hour nap.

And I had to ask myself again, just how blessed can one girl be?

The 2010-2011 editions of “The Rules of Golf,” “Decisions on The Rules of Golf” and “Rules of Amateur Status” are now available for purchase for iPhone, iPod touch, BlackBerry and Android devices.

The Rules of Golf App is designed for golfers who want access to the official Rules and Decisions whenever and wherever they want. The only Rules App approved by the USGA, it makes every Rule, Definition and Decision available at the touch of a finger. It also provides:

* Simple and intuitive navigation
* A convenient word and phrase search function
* A jump dial for quick access to specific Rules
* The ability to e-mail Rules questions to USGA experts or Rules to friends

For more information on how to purchase, download and install the Rules of Golf App, visit the Mobile section of USGA.org.

Golf Fore the Good does not profit monetarily from the downloading of the application–but we do consider it a benefit that the app will improve the caliber of golfers through a better grasp of the Rules. We do urge caution in the use of your cell phone on the golf course and encourage you to adhere to any local rules with regard to cell phone use… and always, please remember to shut your ringer off!

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.

Recently received from Michele Weeks of the American Lung Association:

Every year we sell Golf Privilege Memberships to benefit our organization. This year we have partnered with Golf Digest Tee Times to offer a new and improved golf program. The new Golf Privilege Membership is still the same great price of $39.95 (that’s $20 off the non-ALA price) but now includes over 3300 courses and an array of online specials! I know there are a lot of discount golf memberships out there but I think a lot of folks would be interested in our membership since it offers a way of giving back to a great organization. These also make terrific gifts for the upcoming holidays. You can purchase the Golf Privilege Membership by visiting www.alagolfmembership.org. We would greatly appreciate it if you could inform your readers of this awesome opportunity. If you have any questions you can call 804-267-1900.

Here is a little more info on the American Lung Association:

The American Lung Association of the Atlantic Coast is the leading organization working to save lives by improving lung health and preventing lung disease. Our work takes place in the community where you live. We teach children and adults how to live with asthma, and we provide support for families whose members are living with lung disease. We fund research that will directly impact the care of people with lung disease. We fight for laws that make the air cleaner, and we help teens and adults to quit smoking. We are leading the fight for air – join us!

Thanks, Michele, for the info!

Happy golfing to anyone who still has decent weather to get out on a regular basis! As for me, a mild and partly sunny day in the 50s is good enough to tempt me out for a few holes… every golf day is a gift at this time of year in southern New England!