My wife’s family has had a rough couple of years. And because I consider her family as much mine as hers, MY family has had a rough couple of years. A little over two years ago my mother-in-law’s sister, Alice, was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. She fought a long, hard battle for almost two years and hung in there a lot longer than anyone would have thought. An amazingly strong woman, who always had a smile on her face and a hug to give, she left a lot of happy memories to the loved ones she left behind. She passed away in June of this year. The family gathered back in the end of September to spread her ashes on the beloved beach where she spent so much of her childhood. Mother Nature didn’t make it easy on us that day, as it poured rain and the surf on the beach was pretty rough. The exact spot where she wanted her ashes spread required a walk of about 100 yards out over a jetty of large, and now because of the rain, slippery rocks. Most of us stood back and watched as her widowed husband Bart, her son and daughter navigated over the slick boulders and we prayed no one would slip and seriously injure themselves. The surf crashed over the rocks and wind howled as they made their way safely to the spot and then back to the beach. There was no accident then as there easily could have been. It was only two weeks later when Bart was performing the simple task of bringing something up from the basement, when he slipped on the stairs, fell on his head, and cracked two vertebrae in his spine. He’s now been in the hospital for over a month almost completely paralyzed. The irony of those two events, and how that accident could have much more easily happened that day on the beach, really goes to show you how life is measured by “what ifs” and milliseconds.
For as long as I’ve known Bart he’s been a passionate golfer. Self admittedly a bad golfer, but a passionate one nonetheless. Bart was also always quick with a joke about how poor his golf game was, but that never deterred him from wanting to get out on the links and enjoy the game he loved anyway. After he retired a couple years ago he took a job at a local golf course on the grounds crew mowing the greens. Every time I saw him, he spoke about how much he loved being out on the course early in the morning before anyone was out there, working on the greens. He spoke proudly of how the course had the fastest greens around and how they mowed and rolled them twice a day to keep their lightening quick speeds.
My wife and I recently went to visit Bart for the first time since the accident at the hospital where he is recovering. We weren’t greeted by a man who was feeling sorry for himself, or was mad at the world for the situation he was now in. We were greeted with a smile from an excited loved one who was so happy and appreciative of our visit. Anyone in that position could be holing themselves up in their hospital bed and packing it in. But during our entire visit, Bart spoke with such determination and drive to walk again that I couldn’t help but be inspired by him. He excitedly showed us how he could now perform the simple task of lifting his elbow off the armrest of his wheelchair, and I also quietly watched in my own excitement as I saw him slightly moving his feet. I looked on through glassy eyes as he spoke not only of walking again, but of actually getting out on the golf course and playing the game that he loves so much again.
What is it about the game of golf that instills such passion in the people who play it? That after an accident like Bart suffered; one of his first thoughts is about getting back out on the course. It’s something about being out on the course, in nature, taking a good ribbing from a playing partner, or a $2 Nassau bet, or the feeling of that purely struck drive that happens all too infrequently, that keep us coming back out for more. For Bart it will be baby steps for sure. Just being able to swing a golf club is going to take some serious time. But he’s determined and I believe him when he says he’ll be back out there.
For me, I now know I won’t take the ability of getting out on the course for granted as I may have before. The thought of getting upset about that missed 3-footer, or that shanked drive in to the trees, now just seems trivial and foolish.
If you’d like to follow Bart’s recovery process and provide some much needed words of encouragement, you can check out the blog that his son Michael has set up at: http://bartmanrecovery.wordpress.com
