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April 24th, 2004

dad. @ 09:07 pm

Current Mood: uncomfortable uncomfortable

 
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From:bigbaldguy
Date:April 25th, 2004 10:07 pm (UTC)

So too with my father

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My father loved golf too, enough that it killed him.

He had had intestinal problems for a week, and went to the doctor to get X-rays. Then while the doctor evaluated the X-rays in the course of his daily work, my dad decided to go play another round at Little Turtle Country Club in Columbus. He loved Little Turtle so much that he bought a condo along the 18th fairway, and lived there for the last 10 years of his life, playing golf whenever he could. My memory of Little Turtle was of hot and sweaty days in high school, spent caddying for my father and his obnoxious friends and business partners, instead of hacking or clumsily pursuing girls as I would have preferred.

He played a full round that day in May 1997. Then, when he got back to the clubhouse, he got a phone message from his doctor, telling him to report to the hospital immediately for emergency surgery. Unfortunately, his colon ruptured just as they were preparing to operate on him. A fist-sized tumor, called an adenocarcinoma, had grown so big that it completely blocked his ascending colon, and it burst. He held on for 71 days before succumbing to the resulting infection.

Six months after that, I had a very strong lucid dream, in which I was playing golf with my father. We were at the 7th green back at Little Turtle. The late afternoon sun peeked through the woods as I chipped a ball from the rough up onto the green and right into the hole.

I knew that it didn't really count, because I have developed more than a little telekinetic ability in my lucid dreams. But my dad got this really proud beaming smile as he looked at me, saying "See? I always knew you could play golf!" I smiled back at him, and said "Dad, say what you will, but I think I wouldn't have made a shot like that in real life." We both laughed at each other as I drifted out of sleep.

It was one of the strongest dreams I had ever had. I became convinced that it was my father's way of telling me that wherever he was, he was doing all right, and watching over me.

(Later on, my mom and dad both teamed up from beyond the grave to reassure me in a time of great anxiety. But that is a story for another day.)

From:(Anonymous)
Date:April 27th, 2004 11:38 am (UTC)

Re: So too with my father

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Mark (a.k.a. BigBaldGuy),

Considering that I was at the hospital prior to Dad being taken to surgery, I have to say that your recollection is in error. Dad was feeling poorly a full 2 days prior to going to get tested. I had, in fact, invited him to an Indian's baseball game the Saturday before and he cancelled that morning because he wasn't feeling well. He went in for a testing on Monday at the clinic across the street from Riverside and left from there directly for the ER.

Golf had nothing to do with our father's death and I'm saddened that you would draw this conclusion.

Your Brother,

Dave
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From:bigbaldguy
Date:April 27th, 2004 12:43 pm (UTC)

I guess I stand corrected

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Mea culpa.
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From:bigbaldguy
Date:April 27th, 2004 12:45 pm (UTC)

I'm curious

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I don't know how I had come to believe what I wrote in the entry above, but that was my honest recollection of what you and others had said to me. Very strange.

--mark

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