cinthia milner, transplanted and still blooming, golf

Why I’m Considering Golf

It’s Wednesday. I write about gardening on Wednesdays. But this week, I will focus on golf.

I’ve never liked golf. Here’s a few reasons why:

  • My childhood was spent waiting on golfers. Have you ever waited on golfers?.They always play an extra nine, no matter what time the dinner reservations are.
  • Silly shoes.
  • Hate the shirts.
  • Too much equipment.
  • No one gets to talk. (Spend an entire 5 hours together and never get to speak. Huh?)
  • I wish they’d go organic on the golf course.
  • It’s just a ball.

So, why am I considering taking up golf? Turning in my Felco’s for Hello Kitty’s Complete set of clubs?

At Mom’s memorial, the only real memory I have is of my granddaughters (their smiles were the best), and the golfers. Tons of golfers came through the receiving line. They were part of Mom’s weekly golf group(s). She played every week (several times a week) at a local municipal golf course with a ladies’ group (and other groups that included the men).

These people were ancient. I mean like 92, 87, 95. Most of them still playing the game. They were vital, happy, energetic folks who didn’t seem to realize they were old. One after the other offered their condolences for my loss, while telling me about their last golf game with Mom. Those games always ended in dinner or a late lunch out, accompanied by lots of laughter.

My College Son said, “Mom, golf is the fountain of youth. You might want to consider it.”

He is so right.

I always wondered what my mother’s secret was. How did a woman, who lived alone, who worked until the day she died (literally, she was getting ready for work), whose children could have been so much nicer to her (speaking for myself here), have so much excitement for life? Golf.

My mother adored the game. She was so thrilled when she played a good game, that I generally got a call to tell me about it. And, nothing made her happier than a day dedicated to 18 holes. Traveling 2 hours away to a course for the day just made it better, because then the entire day was about the game. Pure heaven for her.

I never understood her passion, but I listened as she talked about the “Dirty Dozen” (one of her golf groups), or the “Hilly Dilly” (no clue). She was like a kid. She watched the game on tv, talked about incessantly, and played it every chance she got. This made gift buying for Mom super easy.

I’m learning what the phrase, “Getting old is not for sissies,” really means. I thought it referred to the bodily aches and pains that accompany aging. That factors in, but what it really means is that with aging comes loss. My pre-50 years were full of friends and family I so dearly love, but as I passed the mid-mark, I started to lose many of them. This year I’ve lost a brother-in-law, father to my nieces, and now my mom, my best friend and role model. It isn’t my body that aches but my heart. Both parents are gone, my ex-mother-in-law, my brother-in-law, and many friends. And, the years ahead bring promise of more loss, more dear souls in heaven, and less here. Dang right aging is not for sissies, and my mom was a lot of things, but sissy did not describe her.

She was determined, stubborn, strong-willed, independent, passionate, creative and kind. And, after my dad died, instead of shutting down, she played golf. While my sisters and I were busy building our families in the years following Daddy’s death, she was playing golf. She was enjoying the game, the camaraderie, the outdoors, the competitiveness, the beautiful courses, the friends, the dinners. She was re-building her life on a golf course. She had played some with my Dad, who also adored the game, but really she played after he died. Maybe that was a good way for her to grieve.

Mom’s golf buddies were tearful and sad about losing her, but their eyes still had mischief and delight in them. They were quick to laugh and quick to tell stories of their golfing adventures. I watched 92 year old eyes twinkle and 85 year old smiles erupt like children, as they recalled one adventure after another. I may be wrong, but it appears that more happens on a golf course than a game. It appears that friendships are forged, adventures are the day’s fare, life is lived, and for 18 holes, old age is kept at bay.

Truly, I could consider worse.


Mom, a good day of golf; she had a 42 on the front 9. One of her best scores.


6 thoughts on “Why I’m Considering Golf

  1. Cinthia, What a glowing tribute to your Mom. She would have loved reading it and knowing she taught you all that AND that her golfing buddies were there for you at the end!

  2. Oh Cinthia, it’s all so true. Your Mom and I had so many laughs and enjoyed the beauty playing golf. Loved her like a sister and yes, met her at the Ladies assoc. playing golf. Will be playing in the Casey/Milner tourn. this Oct. that she and your Dad started many years ago. She will be so missed and it will be so hard but, I feel its exactly what she would have wanted Bill and me to do. Still grieving over our loss.

    • Martha, it is exactly what Mom would want you and Bill to do. We miss her desperately, so much it is hard to breath sometimes. Thank you for being her dear friend and bringing her so much joy. I might just come with y’all this year!

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