Here is one memory I don't want to forget!
For the first time.
With my dad.
But the story has to start back a day or so.
Well, a month really.
I was struggling to come up with a good Father's day gift for my dad.
Does anyone else have this problem?
Dads already have everything, it seems,
and whatever they want is waaaaaay out of my price range.
At almost the same moment, my dad and I both thought of going golfing together.
This would not seem to be that big of a deal, at first glance.
Other than the great time spent together, why was this idea so entertaining?
Well, I'm not all that coordinated.
Or sports oriented.
And I'd never actually been golfing before.
Unless you count the driving range.
Once. Seven years ago.
Or the awesome round of mini golf (puttputt) I just played a month ago with our teens.
Those don't count?
Yeah, I didn't think so.
At the end of last summer, Kevin and I came up with the crazy idea that it could be fun to learn how to golf together.
Since we're both unexperienced, it'd be quite a sight to see.
So I found a great set of clubs and a beautiful new bag (complete with back pack straps and self-contained stand) at a rummage sale for TEN dollars.
Yesterday the temperature was through the roof,
and the humidity made it even more stifling.
But we both really wanted to go golfing.
(I didn't want to put the first time on old any longer, you know!)
We waited until 7pm and it was perfect timing.
With the sun heading quickly toward the Lake Erie horizon,
the temperature was much more bearable.
The 300 guys who had just finished their 5pm league tournaments were on their way out--
leaving the course almost empty.
Perfect for the self-conscious beginner. :)
We teed up at hole number one.
And Dad asked if I had balls.
I didn't know what I had to bring other than whatever was in the $10 garage sale bag of clubs.
And besides, the putt putt course supplies the balls!
It was a slow, slightly frustrating start for me.
But a few strokes later, I was getting the hang of it.
Unfortunately, my problem with any sport is consistency.
I'll have one great move.
And three terrible ones.
But I tried not to overthink it.
And I tried not to focus on the power of the shot but on the accuracy.
It worked well--
whenever I actually adhered to those little guidelines of mine, that is.
But we had a blast together.
I had a few really really fantastic swings.
So much so that Dad shouted, "NICE job, Mel!!!"
That just made my day.
Sure, I ripped up lots of grass.
And shanked a couple balls.
I never actually completed a hole.
For time's sake, I would pick up the ball and skip a couple swings.
I didn't keep track of my score.
But those 2 hours were so enjoyable.
I loved the time with Dad.
And hearing his encouragement.
And I really hope I get into this golf thing.