Last night, I took my oldest son out to my golf club to play nine holes. The course was simply magical. Very few people on the track and the weather was perfect. Warm, no wind, and the sky was ablaze with the wonderful colors of an early summer evening.
We walked the course together as we have done many times before over the years. I remember one of the first times I took him to play. He was just over 12 years old. And full of life and happiness.
We took our tee shots from the first tee. Our rule back then was that we would take our tee shots and then shoot from the best drive. Mine happened to go farther than my 12-year old son’s drive and so we walked up to my ball. My son placed his golf ball, took dead aim and hit an absolutely stunning golf shot.
“Wow, what a shot! Well struck!” I said.
“Dad, when I grow up, I want to be a pro!” my son exclaimed.
He had that look on his face. The look of amazement and satisfaction at striking the perfect golf shot. If you are a golfer, you will know exactly what I mean. And we walked together, my arm over his shoulder, up the fairway. Enjoying the moment. 6 years ago.
Last night, as we walked to the ninth tee, I shared that story with my son.
“You know, Dad, I don’t remember that.” he said.
I told him that I had so many great memories of the times that we have spent together. I told him about all of the joy that he has brought to my life. He heads out to university in the fall and he will soon be making his way as an adult. The joy and pain of fatherhood cuts deep in my soul. I will miss him when he is gone.
Last night was a special time for me and I have never taken the time with my children for granted. The time we have spent together is special. Priceless.