not just because I am proud of him
I played the last round of golf of the year with my dad today at our favorite course in Maine. While I may play again this year I most likely will not get to play with him until next summer.
Golf is the first sport that has bonded my father and I. We have always watched Baseball and Football rabidly and as a kid he coached my baseball teams. But the only sport we play together is Golf. The reason I took up the sport was to find an activity we could do together. If you must hit a silly little ball, chase it yourself and then hit it again it might as well be with someone who is worthy of the three or more hours you can never get back again.
To play Golf with your father is much like playing with a client. You respect him enough to not criticize or offer unsolicited advice; you let him win if you must; you congratulate him on the good shots and turn the other way when he "miscounts"; and you talk if you want to. Or not. Either way it is just fine. Today we talked a little more than usual.
He had been very impressed with my friend, who is also my GM, whose family was our guest all day Saturday at the lake. My buddy had shown great courtesy to my parents as hosts and had made quite an impact on our friends at the beach with his friendly demeanor sprinkled with the sophmoric antics that he and I are famous for when together and having a few cocktails. Apparently my friend had pulled my father aside over a beer and made a special point of telling him that he was regarded very highly by his son (me) and was further informed that he had done a good job raising me. He even went so far as to thank him for instilling a "gladiator's work ethic" in me. This was of course unknown to me until my father recounted it as we waited for the incredibly slow foursome in front of us finish off the third hole on the course. My first reaction was to plan my friend's next beating. My next was to say "he told you all of this yesterday, huh?"
Instead of answering my question he asks another."So you speak highly of me, huh?"
"Of course I do, you're my Dad" I replied.
"What's so great about me?"he asked. He then proceeded to reflect on some of his perceived flaws as a father. How he was never home; Always working; Had no money and fewer presents under the tree than most families on our street every Christmas;
couldn't pay for college; he went on for quite awhile. When he was done, I walked over to the tee, set up my ball and turned to look at him. "Do you really think I give a shit about any of those things now?" I asked.
"I don't know, do you?"
I took my tee shot. As I placed my driver in the bag I suggested that he take a hard look at me and my life and decide if I was better or worse for the wear. I asked him to understand that the things he felt guilty about were those things that I respected about him. I reminded him that he has four grandchildren that see me almost as little as I saw him when I was growing up. I told him him how much I hate never being home. Missing recitals and bedtimes. Being overtired and short-tempered with the kids. Not being able to enjoy every moment of their childhoods'. I informed him that parents do this and it sucks. But it's called adulthood.
He hit his tee shot and then put his club in the bag. We walked in the general direction of our really bad tee shots. We didn't say much. As we got to the point where we would have to walk in different directions he off-handedly remarked " I told your buddy that I am really proud of you too."
"Oh yeah, what did he say?" I asked.
"That he wished his dad would have said that about him." He walked over the hill and we didn't see each other for a few minutes.
When we met up again we didn't address the subject again. We talked about other stuff and in general played a really bad round of golf. We had fun and it didn't rain so it was an all-around success.
As he counted the scorecard he joked that he can't remember why he "took up this stupid game". Then he looked up and saw my grin. This "stupid game" had given us what we both wanted, the time together that we didn't have before. Screw the score, we were both winners.
Off to the 19th hole to do the other thing we do together. Drink beers and laugh.