For Jim

Amy's grandfather. James, passed away last week after a long bout with cancer. Among many talents and admirable qualities, Jim was the type of golfer I aspire to be. Even into his later years, he still managed what I would guess to be an 8 handicap. He understood that it wasn't about 300 yard drives and power fades. It's just moving the ball forward, and having the hands around the greens. Jim must have had some sense of touch, as his home course was a long one, and he routinely reported scores in the low 80s and even some in the 70s.

I'll miss Jim. I'll miss talking about the game of golf with him, learning how he - some 40 years my senior - could outplay me any day of the week. I'll miss watching PGA tournaments with him while other family members found entertainment through other means. Just this past Easter, we watched the final round of the Masters together while the rest of the family caught up on other things. Everyone seemed to have a special bond with Jim, including me. Ours was golf, although that is a passion he shared with anyone who was willing to talk golf.

Beyond golf, Jim was one of the most understanding, non-judgemental people I've ever met. And without getting into too many details, I've given Jim and the rest of my in-laws plenty of reasons to resent me. Jim was the easiest for me re-approach after I'd made a life error. He had that sage wisdom about him - "kids will be kids" - and I immediately felt comfortable around him, as I did the first day we met and we discussed his service in the Airforce (at that time, I was working as a civilian for the Navy).

I'm sure there are many great qualities that, through heredity, Jim left his family. I see a lot of Jim in Amy's talent and passion for the game of golf. In just three years, her swing is spot on in terms of mechanics, she knows how to manage a course, not just play it, and always strives to do better. I've never seen anyone so disappointed when they come up a few strokes over their target score than Amy. Like many men of his generation, Jim might not have mentioned to Amy how proud he was of her golf prowess (although I cannot say he never did), but I'm sure in his heart he beamed with pride that his loved granddaughter had taken a shine to the game he loved so dearly.

Unfortunately, I never had the chance to play golf with Jim, as he was fairly deep into his illness as we grew closer. But many of his friends and family members speak of the golfer that he was, the golfer - the man - I hope to be, and the golfer that Amy is becoming.

We'll miss you, Jim. And if you find the time, send a few birdies our way.