As I’ve mentioned previously, my husband and oldest son (known as E in this blog) have a rare medical condition known as Loeys-Dietz Syndrome. At the last cardiologist visit, E was told this would likely be his last year playing competitive sports for his own health and safety. However, the one sport he can play indefinitely is golf.
He made the school’s golf team and after a number of postponements, today was the school’s first golf competition of the season. E didn’t qualify for his score to count on the school’s score, but he did compete against some of the players from other schools. This afternoon I rushed him to the country club where the team was scheduled to play. I explained that I had a few errands but I would be back to watch him as soon as I could. Then I “shooed” him out of the car while I told him I loved him, was proud of him, and wished him lots of luck.
I returned about a half hour or so later. Let me interrupt this story by saying I do not play golf. I have never walked out onto this course nor can I tell the 1st hole from the 18th. I basically wondered around the course walking toward any groups I saw, but I didn’t mind that as it was such a gorgeous afternoon to be outside.
Finally, I wondered over to the hole where E and a few other guys from the conference schools were playing. When E turned and saw me there, he gave me the biggest proudest smile and my heart melted. Really it melted. I was a big puddle of goo in the middle of the fairway. At no time in history has a mom been so proud of her son. Was he winning? I didn’t know. Was he even doing well? Who cares. That didn’t matter. Here he was overcoming multiple obstacles and health challenges to find a spot on an athletic team where he would not be limited. He was just as much a competitor on this green as anyone else…..well, except his score wasn’t going to count for today’s match. But regardless. You get my point.
When he came up to the next hole and teed off, he knocked that ball. It went soaring — a white blaze cutting through the air. I remembered earlier days of soccer, basketball, baseball. I prepared to clap and yell and cheer. But alas, it was quiet. Even the golf carts were barely audible. So my cheers were internal. But rest assured, being a golf mom may be a quiet existence, but I was screaming on the inside.
In the end, E shot a 49 on 9 holes. I understand that’s pretty good. According to E, it was one of the best scores of the day. I don’t really care. I just loved seeing that smile.