My Summer of Golf

and other misadventures

Howdy! If you like stories of crazy behavior, this post is for you so LET’S GO

My Summer of Golf

My mom passed away in the spring of 2011. It was a thirteen-week ordeal that felt like thirteen years but also like thirteen seconds, and when it was over, I felt a sense of relief. Sure I missed her, but I could finally rest. I’d gotten down to 105 pounds and was living on Aldi chocolate, Egg McMuffins, and Starbucks lattes. Sleep was just a concept.

At the time I worked for a regional bank, as an assistant for one of the top investment advisors. I was fully licensed and had my own clients as well, and while that job was the suck (a story for another day), I’m grateful for it because I learned a lot about investing and estate planning. I saw what it looked like to plan for the future, and what it looked like when people didn’t plan for their future.

I also saw what grief could do to people. Spoiler alert—it can make them do strange, sometimes financially unwise things.

I always thought that wouldn’t happen to me, but looking back, it definitely did.

The first thing I did once I’d had a little rest was get divorced from husband number two. We had been separated for five months, and I saw him exactly once through the whole ordeal with my mom. That told me all I needed to know about his true character, so I ditched him officially, keeping sole ownership of the house and avoiding having to share my retirement accounts. It was a lucky escape.

Then I rested some more, and by the summer months, things started to get weird.

In the grand scheme of things, I didn’t get too crazy that summer. Okay, sure, I spent some money. And made a few new friends. But I didn’t bankrupt myself too much, morally or financially.

Some of the highlights:

While in California for a few weeks, I had a brief fling with a tattoo artist. I also got two more tattoos.

I had another brief fling with a UIT wholesaler in Tulsa. We were his clients, so that was probably not okay, but so what—I was damaged and he was trying to get over his ex, so it all worked out in the end.

One day I stumbled upon a film of a live concert on TV and immediately fell in love with the bass player. This was before Twitter was a dumpster fire so of course I reached out and we started messaging and yes, that fall we met. To me he was a god, but I think I fell short of his expectations and in hindsight of course I totally get it. To my credit, we still email every so often, although it took me a while to prove to him I’m not crazy. At least I hope I have. Oh well. Haven’t you had someone in your life that just makes you crazy? No? Never mind.

Then I took up golf. What the eff, that’s random! I think maybe a coworker took me to the driving range one day? That must have been it. She showed me the basics, and I got so into it I bought a set of clubs and took lessons. But I just liked to hit at the driving range; the idea of going out there and chasing a little ball around 18 holes seemed (and still seems) ridiculous. I probably would have been down for a brief affair with my instructor, but he was smart enough to recognize trouble when he saw it.

I would drive to the golf course after work for my lesson. I can still remember the warm, humid air and how the sun seemed to take forever to set. We’d hit balls, I’d practice my swing. My friend came too, and afterward we’d sit at the café and have something cold to drink. Then as I drove home again, I’d sing along with the live version of Jason Mraz’s “Live High,” belting the lyrics out at the top of my lungs, because that was my summer. Everything was new, weird, and full of possibility.

I came back down to earth again that fall, was diagnosed with PTSD, and experienced some resulting health problems. A different phase of grief began. But that’s just the thing, isn’t it—life just keeps changing all the time. We circle back around as we travel that spiral path, landing near where we were before, but not exactly at the same spot. Our perspective is different as we stand in a different place.

I doubt I’ll ever play golf again, but I reckon life will probably get weird again at some point. I’m counting on it.

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Thanks for reading!