Missing Sandy

Dear Sandy,

I'm so bummed I lost you.

How did that even happen without me realizing it? You must have been gone for two months. How did I not know until now? I had always taken care not to leave you behind whenever we went out. Now that you're gone, there's a big hole that none of the others can fill.

It was a beautiful sunny day like this when I last held you and we went out there together. It was mid Jan then and we had yet to be hit by the two major snowstorms of the season. I didn't plan on going out, but a warm, sunny respite in the middle of winter was just too good to resist. I thought we would just hang out for a short round, but when we got there, it was wide open and there was hardly anyone else around. So I decided to take my time, go out on the full 18 and enjoy the afternoon. And what a nice time we had, despite the wet, muddy, slushy ground. In fact, you were instrumental in saving me from utter disgrace at so many holes.

I always check my bag before I leave to make sure you're all there. Especially you. You're the one always in danger of being left behind. I even thought I had cleaned you up, washed all the mud from your face when we got back.

So imagine the disbelief and mortification when I found you gone yesterday. All this time I had thought you were snug and safe in your spot.

This is not right. We belong together. When I hold you, we are in perfect synchrony and we move together like one. You have rescued me from countless bad situations, lifted me up from the depths of bunkers and freed me from so many tight spots. I will always remember our best shot together.

I thought I had messed up and landed in the sand again. But no, I was right out on the edge. It was a really tricky spot to be in. I had to hit from the edge, across the bunker. The pin was towards the front of the green. I had to find a good spot to land on right in front of the hole or I will roll right away behind the pin. Perhaps the worst circumstances really do make warriors of us. But, what the heck. I took aim directly at the pin. You were with me on this one. We did it. The ball hit the pin and dropped straight into the hole saving par.

How will I ever play like that again without you? I feel incomplete without you. But I'll have to move on, like everyone else does after losing a loved one. It's hard. There's the gap you left that can't be completely filled by another. There's having to adjust to new ways of doing things without the familiarity and comfort of having you around. I guess I'll just have to learn not to hit into so many bunkers and tight spots. And if I do and have to call on another partner to bail me out, I'll just have to remember how it felt like with you, and the lessons you taught me.

Goodbye Sandy. If it's meant to be, I may find you someday. If not, then que sera sera.