A Man And His Daughter

Dad likes to play golf. Actually, saying he likes to play golf is a little bit of an understatement. He watches golf on tv; can remember how he shot on a particular hole, on a particular day, on a particular course better than he can remember his address; and last year (or was it two years ago!?) he took a trip to Scotland to play four or five courses as well as partake in many a Hendricks & Tonic (with cucumber of course). I honestly think it was his ‘Trip of a Lifetime’. Mine? Lounging on the Greek Isles while handsome men feed me olives and wine. That sounds pretty nice right about now. But I digress.

To recap: Dad. loves. golf.

So when my brother moved away to Boston, Dad was especially sad not only to be losing his only son to the East coast, but also because Cam is the one in the family who can actually keep up with the old man on the golf course. But as it was Father’s Day on Sunday, and as I actually do enjoy playing golf, I decided to treat him to an easy round of 9 on our local course. It was a perfect day for golf: warm, but mostly overcast and a slight breeze so I dusted off my old clubs and away we went.

There’s something about golf that seems terribly civilized, isn’t there? And it’s not just the mandatory collared shirts or golf etiquette. I love the sound the club makes when you’ve hit a really great drive off the tee–the kind of drive where you don’t even feel the ball connecting with the club. I love the finely manicured grass, the flapping of the flag, the ‘plunk’ of the ball as it falls into the hole and the way that–once you get home–you just smell like the outdoors. But mostly, the thing I love about golf, is that my dad loves golf. I may not be the best player (ha!) but when it’s just me and Dad, out there in the middle of it all, it really is something quite special.

And after golf: root beer floats.

I hope you all were able to spend time with your dads doing something he loved!