Heartfelt Letter From a Dad to His Sons

James is a beautiful writer, and he writes/emails letters to our sons ocassionally. I asked his permission to share two of them he has written this year:

Boys,

I just made myself come indoors tonight. It may have been the most beautiful evening of the spring, yet.

Mom and I got home a little late, but since we had grabbed a sandwich on the way home, I threw on my boots and hit the ground running with the wheel barrow, picking up most of the wood I had cut Saturday morning and moving it to the house. I was planning on coming in then, but I saw a hatch on the pond and ran out to the tenth with my fly rod and vest. I only got in a few casts before it was too dark to see, with only one little nudge. It could have been a turtle.

I was going to come in then, but I saw a 7 iron in the garage and grabbed a couple of balls and headed for a walk on 10. I bladed a few shots until I could not find the balls and came home. I took off my boots and was going to come in then, when I remembered that there was one piece of mom’s lemon meringue pie left from last evening, so I took it to the rocker on the back porch and listened to the frogs sing. I was going to come in then, when I noticed that Venus was on the horizon, Orion was in the southwest and Ursa Major was in the northeast. So I grabbed a glass of wine and went back to the steps to watch a while.

I finally convinced myself I wasn’t camping out, gave up and came in. More work tomorrow.

“…I see the stars; I hear the rolling thunder, thy power throughout the universe displayed. Then sings my soul…”

Love,
Dad

Another letter:

Boys,

Well, it was one of those nights. I’ve gotten lazy about reporting them, there are so many. But tonight was special, maybe because I had not planned to be available for it.

The agenda was to be: set the sprinklers, dinner, reset the sprinklers, do some drafting, reset the sprinklers, pack for Santa Fe, and hit the rack.

Because we were blessed with about a tenth of an inch of rain this afternoon, steps one, three and five were not necessary. So, after dinner, just before sunset, I went out for a customary loop with my seven iron and a couple of balls. As soon as I mounted the 10th teeing ground, I was awestruck by the full yellow moon just rising above the trees in the east. I enjoyed it all the way up the fairway to the green. As I turned for the 11th, I noticed the orange sky in the west, sun already set. It was as equally spectacular as the full moon behind me, and I could not help looking back and forth to enjoy them almost simultaneously.

Three seven irons and I was pin high left, just a foot off the green. As I waggled, I heard the familiar honking of our local flock of Canadian geese. I stopped and looked back over my shoulder to see them emerging from over the cottage, all 27 of them in a near perfect vee formation about 40 feet over me, heading for an evening drink at the Brazos. I could hear their wings flapping and their heavy breathing as they labored to rise over the trees.

I’ve got to admit, at this point I thought I might par the hole, but it was really more a hope. This perfect moment could not be completed with my feeble efforts could it?

But, I sank it!

All I could do was smile. I was alone, or was I?

I looked to the west and in place of the orange clouds was a clear Texas sky with Venus, so bright on the horizon that I had to check it for movement, thinking it was an airliner on approach. Your mother and I had a "discussion" over this a few weeks ago as we drove home from town. She maintained it was a plane flying toward us. It took 20 minutes of driving west to convince her it had not moved an inch closer to us!

I dropped the ball near the green and took a swipe toward the cottage. It rose over the trees and I listened for a crack of a branch. I didn’t hear a thing and thought I might actually find this one, this time

Well, it wasn’t on the teeing ground, so I was resigned to the usual result. Being past dark, I wasted no time in a search, after all, it was just another of the dozens of balls I find on my rounds out here. But to my surprise, and confirmation, there it was, right in my path as I passed our corner post on the way in!

Glory!

Looking forward to the Cup,

Dad