From 2014- I’ve Never Been to Scotland.
I’ve never been to Scotland, although I would like to go there. It’s the home of golf and many of the world’s great courses are there…including Royal St. Andrews, the home of golf. Although it’s been almost 10 years since I have played, I still occasionally go down to the local track field and hit a few.
My Dad taught me how to play golf. We were both left handers and I used his clubs the first time I ever swung at a golf ball. I totally missed it. Daddy laughed that big laugh of his and told me the first one didn’t count. I hit the ball the second time, and the rest of my time at home kinda revolved around that sport. Dad and I formed a bond of camaraderie with our common love of golfing, along with my brother Mike, and it was one that endured until he was physically unable to play anymore.
I visited the cemetery this evening on the fourth anniversary of his death, and left a golf ball on his stone. It would have been more appropriate to have thrown it out in the woods, since we both spent a heck of a lot of time in the rough! That same reality hit me again for the umpteenth time that he is somewhere I have not been yet.
Well, as I said at the start, I’ve never been to Scotland. I believe it exists though, as there is ample evidence that it is there, and there are golf courses there aplenty, with a lot of Scots on them whacking away with vigor at that little white ball.
I also believe in life after death, although I’ve never been there I believe there is ample evidence it exists. And I believe someday in the future at some point the old left handers will be out in the rough looking for that ball and laughing that big laugh! Until then, there’s life to be lived and love to be loved.