November broods over us with early darkness and chill breezes. Add the pandemic, national polarization, and election recounts, now more than ever, we need a glimmer of hope and light.
My dear friend and author, Patricia Iacuzzi, loves to celebrate other writers. Her generous spirit led her to create her Blogspot, “Hope Inspired Stories,” to showcase the words of other authors. https://hopeinspiredstories.blogspot.com/. I asked her to share with you the inspiring words of one of her featured authors.
The Love of Golf by Janice Cantore
Janice Cantore is a retired Long Beach police officer who now writes suspense novels to keep readers engrossed and leave them inspired. Her twenty-two years of experience on the force lend authenticity to her stories. She has penned ten romantic suspense novels: the Cold Case Justice series, the Pacific Coast Justice series, Critical Pursuit, and Visible Threat. Crisis Shot and Lethal Target are the first two books in the Line of Duty series. Cold Aim finishes out the series.
The Love of Golf
I’m not a parent, I was never blessed with children. The only knowledge I have of parenting is how I was parented. I’m sure my parents were like most, flawed. They had their strengths and their weaknesses, but they did the best they could with what they knew. My mother gave me a love of reading and writing. She read voraciously and when she wrote letters, she told a story. As I write my novels, I think of her, would she like this story? Yeah, she would, because I wrote it. Thanks, mom.
One thing my father gave me that I will forever be grateful for was a love of golf. He bought me a couple of lessons when I was in high school and after that took me out to play occasionally. I think we played from time to time until I graduated college. After that, I didn’t have the time to play, and he had an injury that kept him from playing, and eventually I gave my clubs away. It was about twenty-five or so years before I picked the game up again. Dad passed on in 2012.
How could you really love the game if you didn’t play it for twenty-five years, you ask. The most astonishing thing happened when I did start playing again. All these great memories of playing with my father came flooding back. I remembered shots he’d made, shot’s I made, his encouragement, his correction, stopping for a hot dog at the little shack at the tenth hole, and flying over the course in the little cart, loving the breeze on a hot Southern California afternoon.
In everyday life my father could be a difficult, unpredictable man. But never on the golf course. When we played golf, my father was just dad. He was helpful, insightful, and fun to play with. And when I play today sometimes, I often imagine him beside me saying, “Good shot!” or “Keep your head down”. The time we spent together on the course was good. The memories are golden and precious to me.
So, if it’s not too presumptuous for a non-parent to give parenting advice, here goes. Parents give your kids a love of something. It doesn’t have to be golf, but it has to be something that involves the both of you and good quality one on one time. Maybe your child will eventually drop it and not pick it up again for years and years after you are gone. The memories made will bring you back to them in living color. So, take the time to make them good, golden, precious memories.