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April 24, 2025 at 5:47 PM

Lost golf balls

Southern Pessimist
@SouthernPessimist

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That is actually a company name that I am aware of. I don't endorse it, although it might well be a very fine company. When I think of lost golf balls, I think about the very best memories of my childhood. Many people romanticize their childhood such that every day of the first few years of school was the best of their life. That was not the case for me. It took several more years of maturation before I could confidently participate in the struggles of growing up and fitting in. My relationship with my parents through the tough early years was tumultuous.

It worked out OK, though. During my high school years, when many of my peers fought with their parents for freedom from their control, my relationship with my parents was the best it had been — maybe the best it was ever to be. I played a lot of golf in high school, and I was good enough to be the last person cut from the school team four years in a row. Our team won the state championship most of those years.

My father asked if I could teach him how to play golf. He had never been athletic and although we didn't know it at the time, he was already showing pronounced symptoms of Parkinson's disease. His balance problem made swinging a golf club quite difficult. I had seen an article in a golf magazine about swinging the club without shifting your weight and just using your arms. Actually for about two-thirds of the golfing population, that is still good advice. At any rate, it worked out fairly well for my dad; so he and I started to play golf on a regular basis at a state park about an hour from our home in Nashville. My mother would come along and while my dad and I played golf, she would scour the bushes along the fairways for lost golf balls. My mother was the most frugal person to ever live on Earth, and each found golf ball was a moment of joy. It was the ultimate Easter egg hunt. We would have a very nice dinner at the restaurant in the park and always drove home in a mood of shared contentment that felt something like love.

I think I found at least 6 nice golf balls today when Ronnie and I played nine holes. I thought of my mom several times.

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    Some Call Me ...Tim@SomeCallMeTim·1y

    It’s always nice when you finish a round with more golf balls than when you started.

    Nice post.

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    Southern Pessimist@SouthernPessimist·1y
    ReplyingtoSome Call Me ...Tim

    Some Call Me ...Tim (View Comment):

    It’s always nice when you finish a round with more golf balls than when you started.

    Nice post.

    I had not thought of that but I haven't bought a golf ball in a very long time. My mom would be proud.

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    EODmom@EODmom·1y

    Other people’s memories can be quite lovely things - thank you.

    My favorite uncle was diagnosed with Parkinson’s about 18 months after he retired from his senior exec job at a mining company. He loved golf and he and my aunt had begun to play club tournaments around the southeast when he retired and it was rough news. (She found golf when Willie was seconded to run the Indonesia sulfur mines and they lived in Australia for 5 years. She was a ferocious competitor. And played hard until her last 9 holes at 93. She quit and sold her cart because she came home too hot to shower.) He loved every single thing about golf and I went to the driving range with him when I visited. I loved being coached by him - he was so eager to teach me something he loved. And so patient. I cannot say it really took since I went back to swimming miles instead when I returned home.
    Willie was determined to fight Parkinson’s every inch of the way. I credit his love of golf supporting that determination. I also credit his many friends at their golf club for including him even as his game deteriorated. It did make a difference. After he died I had many wonderful visits with my aunt which included enjoying many matches on TV following her favorites. I love watching high level athletics and have a lot of happy memories watching golf.

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    Southern Pessimist@SouthernPessimist·1y

    "She was a ferocious competitor. And played hard until her last 9 holes at 93. She quit and sold her cart because she came home too hot to shower."

    I don't quite understand the thing about the shower, but it sounds right to me. Even if it doesn't exactly make perfect sense, it is probably as good as anything she would have wanted on her tombstone. And I think Willie would agree.

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    EODmom@EODmom·1y
    ReplyingtoSouthern Pessimist

    Southern Pessimist (View Comment):

    “She was a ferocious competitor. And played hard until her last 9 holes at 93. She quit and sold her cart because she came home too hot to shower.”

    I don’t quite understand the thing about the shower, but it sounds right to me. Even if it doesn’t exactly make perfect sense, it is probably as good as anything she would have wanted on her tombstone. And I think Willie would agree.

    They lived in New Orleans and everyone showers after golf. She was too hot and tired to do that basic thing, so no more golf. She stuck with the basics on her memorial.

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