Playing golf is joy. I once played regularly, dreamt of par golf, occasionally achieved even-bogey rounds, and worried over closing the gap. Circumstances and obligations of life turned regular play into infrequent play, and my scores turned unattractive. Yet, my appreciation for hitting the links has never diminished.
Have you noticed that, like parks, cemeteries, and the places where lighthouses are found, golf courses are some of the most beautiful venues we have? Realizing that, I stopped worrying over my scores and accepted golf as way for me to commune with nature. Given my level of golfing skill, I have communed with parts of nature most folks have never dreamed of, much less seen.
Today, while in Tulsa to visit my stepdaughter, Amy, her husband, Troy, and their five-week old son, I experienced the joy of golf with the new daddy. What with the significant changes in his life, it was the first time in a while that he has gotten to play. The weekend visit has been my first opportunity to see the new grandson. I hope to someday share a day on the links with Luke Edward Johnson.
Golf joy has only been a part of the goodness of the last several days. On Thursday, I got a call from Regan, one of my twin daughters in Baton Rouge. She was excited to tell me that she and her husband, Brad, are expecting a baby in April. My wife and the exclusively female offspring from her side of the family were surprised when a Luke popped into their lives. I'm wondering if Brad, like Troy, despite the prevailing wisdom of an equally estrogen-pumped sisterhood of Ya-Yas, will end up with a tiny golfing buddy of the male persuasion. Whatever the case, excitement is abundant, as will be welcoming arms when the time comes.
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