The wheel turns.

Dear friend,

I just got done with a 4 day golf tourney with my dad. We were competitive from wire to wire. In our first match I shot 36 and we lost by two points, then we won out.

In our final round we went on an emotional roller coaster:

• 3 holes to go: I crank a drive. We were 80 yards out… and tree fucked.
• 2 holes to go: I hit a good iron to a tough par 3. 200 yards uphill with big wind. My dad drains a 60 footer from the back of the green with about 3’ of break. Bang!
• Final hole: We’re down 0.5 points, 35.5 to 36. I hit the fairway. Our opponents pull their first drive OB. They launch their second drive to 70 yards out. My dad has 125 in. We pick a club. He swings and makes solid contact. Whack! Hits a limb of a tree and the ball comes right back at us. It was dead on line to the left half of the green and would have dialed up the pressure on our opponents. Instead we’re bunkered and bunkers aren’t designed to have the ball enter from the hole side…

The bottom line is that I loved playing with my dad and it was a privilege to compete with him. The 4-day ordeal concludes with a blow out party which we (of course) attended as a family. Afterwards I heard my mom fall. It’s the second time I’ve heard her fall on her hard tile bathroom floor after this party. The first time was hella traumatizing. That story another time, and our other golf story from #9 at Valley.

Then I pulled out my phone and saw a text to both of us from a mutual friend that started “our deepest condolensces…”

Turns out your mom just passed away.

Shit.

I love you, brother. One day we will pass on. When that day comes I’ll be glad for the moments we spent together, the hardships we endured together, the smiles we made together. I hope there are many to come but the wheel turns and we don’t get to choose. Let’s live it up while we can.

I know you won’t be well, brother. But be the best you can be.

Yours,

JT

P.S. The wheel turns, which means good moments are coming too.