Years after his death, his legacy is crystal clear.
It’s a recurring dream of mine: my dad and I, walking down some obscure fairway, golf clubs in hand, talking about that roller coaster experience called life.
In between the various pars and bogeys, we’d chat about politics, sports, our family and friends and, when the round was completed, we’d hug each other and …
It’s a dream I cling to.
Reality is so different.
For the record, my dad died some 20 years ago and, truth be known, he never stepped foot on a golf course. But if he ever did take up the sport, I know he would have been nothing short of splendid.
Now understand, my father certainly wasn’t blessed with amazing athletic ability and, at 5-foot-2, he never cast an imposing shadow. But in life, he played the game right.
Now, two decades after his death of a heart attack, I still refer back to my dad for inspiration; inspiration in life and inspiration on the golf course.
He was the consummate gentleman.
Looking back, Dad was always the calming influence in my life. And, be assured, during my formative teen years, I provided my folks their share of parental challenges.
But Dad never blinked.
Through the good times and the bad, my father echoed the same sentiments: do the best you can, do it right and, most importantly, accept responsibility for your actions. It was the way he lived his life … without exception.
He never, ever criticized anyone else, never echoed a bad word about his brethren, always dedicated himself to the task at hand and, most importantly, played life by the rules.
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