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Grief Recovery and Golf
By Jim Kennedy "Yes, I did manage to get a round in at my 'crying' course...." My 'crying' course is Sunset Valley in Pompton Plains. It was always one of my favorites. I don't call it that because of my poor play....I can do that anywhere. I call it that because I spent lots of time crying there. I was answering my niece, Bridget, when she asked, during a recent visit to New Jersey, if I had been able to play any golf this trip. On January 28, 1996, the worst day of my life, I gave the hospital permission to remove my wife, Liz, from life support. Five days earlier she had a massive stroke on the day we buried her mother. During the summer
of '96, I took every opportunity to visit Sunset. It was only 8 miles
from the house. And I wanted to get away. I wanted to hide.
I wanted to be alone. Even though my attempts to concentrate on golf
helped me skirt the hurt, often times, the grief would rear it's ugly head
and I would march the fairways crying my heart out. That's why it
is my 'crying' course.
Now, when I play, I'm a single and get hooked up with new partners. In the beginning, whenever I was paired with a married couple, I was a little resentful; somewhat angry that they were a couple and I was no longer. Irrational? Perhaps, but that's a normal feeling for someone who had lost so much. As time when by, however, the resentment turned to a soft envy and some sadness. So I tell all my partners about Liz, about what I had and lost. I like to think that the folks I play with not only finish with a smile or two, but go home and hug someone they love because they have learned about not taking things for granted. So, this game of ours has helped me by filling time, by taking my mind off my pain -- by "taking me away" for a spell. So, as I told Bridget, "Yes, I did manage to get a round in at my 'crying' course.....and I played pretty well.
Originally printed in Florida Golf Central, October 1999. Used with permission of the author. |