Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Golf, Parkinson’s, and Our Friend Jim

You walk towards the tee box, club in hand, your conscious mind telling you to be confident as your subconscious mind tells you different. You tee the ball up and it sits in front of you perfectly still. You look down the fairway in the distance. A flag stands defiantly, protected by sand, water and trees. You step into nature's arena. It is both polite, beautiful and at times unforgiving, like the siren’s song of Greek mythology. The course beckons you to her impending hazards. Golf is a game of self-mastery, strategy, and precision, executed one shot after another until the odyssey is complete as your ball rolls gently into the hole.

Despite Parkinson's Disease, the game of golf still gives me great joy to play. It is a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. The game teaches me many lessons by the people I play with and have played with. One of those lessons was taught to me by an old golf mate, Jim. A few years ago my dear friend Karen who I regularly golf with met me for our usual Friday afternoon on the links, but on this particular Friday Karen said we would be joined by a friend of hers, Jim. She explained to me that Jim worked out at the same fitness facility and was recovering from some health issues. He had not golfed in over a decade and wanted to get back into the swing of things so to speak. I knew that Karen being the kind soul she is probably had a great deal to do with encouraging Jim to get back into the game.

It was our usual Friday tee time at our local golf course. Jim pulled into the parking lot. Karen said she was going to help him with his bag. I was not sure why at first until I saw him get out of the car.  Jim was missing a leg from the knee down. How great that despite this challenge he was willing to give golf another try. Jim approached me hand extended with a big smile on his face. I would come to find as time went by that this was how Jim viewed life, with a smile. The round started and we were all curious to see how he would manage to play, considering his age, a long lay off, and an artificial leg. Our curiosity was answered as one shot after another went straight down the middle, not far but straight. We were all amazed. In between Jim beating us on what seemed to be every hole, I learned more about our new golf partner as we played. The subject was brought up about his leg. I assumed an accident of some sort was the reason for the missing appendage. Jim explained that he was missing his leg because of diabetes and if that was not enough, there was his liver transplant, and the reason he was working out….to get his strength back from the chemotherapy he went through because of the lung cancer that was in remission. If Jim had a dog that ran away, he would have had a great start to a country song. All the rounds of golf that Jim played were always filled with a tale of a great shot he made or something funny he said or did. On one particular round of golf at a course that was by a small airport that hosted vintage plane shows on the weekend, Karen told me Jim was staring at the planes fascinated by the sight of the relics flying so low as they passed over head that he never took his gaze off them even as they went behind him. Karen looked back to comment about the sight and burst into laughter when she saw Jim laying on the fairway, falling backwards off of his artificial leg, smiling, laughing, and watching as they flew by while his leg stood there in the middle of the golf course.

I would always ask Jim how he was doing.  “Pat, I would complain if I thought anybody would listen,” he would tell me as he chuckled. Jim rolled with life’s punches. He could have complained,  but didn’t. He played the game for the best reason - - to spend time with friends.

A few years later the cancer came back. Jim golfed as his strength allowed him and always with a smile. Karen gave him this great game back and us the privilege of his friendship. She honors Jim by sponsoring a hole in his memory at our golf tournament. I know he would have liked that. I have learned golf is a game best shared, not taken too seriously, and passed along to others.

Thanks Jim for the best golf lesson I ever had.

 I am Pat Younts and I Move to Live.


1 comment:

  1. Ok I am only crying here. Where's the darn kleenex?

    ReplyDelete

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