A very young man was driving into the South Suburban Golf Course parking lot yesterday when he noticed two women sitting on the bench at the 10th. tee box. He thought that they were waiting for their kids to finish the par three course because the ladies had no clubs with them.
When the youngster checked in at the pro shop, Tony suggested that he play the back nine as the front was very crowded. As he drove to the 10th. tee, the fella noticed that the women were still there chatting on the bench. The two were very friendly and laughed out loud when the guy told them a little girl had asked him recently if he was in World War 1.
They promised not to snicker if the result of the first swing of the day went awry.
We had a nice visit and I learned that Lorraine and Michelle were not waiting for kids. Lorraine asked me to look more closely at the bench.
“Look at the date,’ she said.
There were two dates actually on the memorial plaque between the two friends.
July 8, 1946 – October 15, 2012.
Michael B was a man of integrity who loved the game of golf and his friends……and, most assuredly, his lovely wife Lorraine. She was there today to honor that love and to place new flowers on the bench.
The young man hit his drive and said ‘great to meet you,’ as he drove away. On the par 5 eleventh hole, the fella was on the green in three imagining a two putt par. Four putts later, he wondered how Michael B would have handled this double bogey. No doubt he would have laughed it off as a mere trifle and taken some ribbing from his friends in good style.
Thank you, Mr. B for helping me to see this with fresh eyes.
Rest in peace, Michael. Your wife is a terrific lady who keeps your memory and your love alive every day.
The young man finished writing this early this morning with the strong feeling that there were really three people on that love seat yesterday. A beaming Michael was sitting in the center with an arm around Lorraine and her friend…..assuring each that he’s ok and wishing they could see his new set of irons with the golden shafts.
I heard him whispering, ‘if you think the ball goes a long way at 5,280 feet, you should see it soar where I live.’
What You’re Saying