It’s Mother’s Day, and I am playing golf with an old and dear friend, his son, and my son.
Now, I will be okay. I am healthier and stronger than I have been in some time. And the weather today is going to be fantastic.
But I am living as a single man, and my mom passed away a few years ago. The other three in the group? Well, I think we are looking at four, maybe five or more mothers who belong to the guys in the group. Those mothers will not be joining us – or we them. For a while anyway.
I think one Mother’s Day years ago, I played golf with some guys instead of spending time with my wife or mom. Well – the outcome wasn’t very pleasant.
But cheer up my golf partners of this Sunday. On that Mother’s Day years ago when I did the same thing, it was kind of nice to be called “Mother” before the other much more vile word was yelled at me!
On that day, it may or may not have been appropriate. I’m not talking about playing golf. Heck no. I mean being called what I was called.
But really. It felt kind of good to be called “Mother” on that day.