Golf and therapy...lessons and sessions.

Some you know this...others could care less (of course the 'others' don't read this blog).

I had a lesson with my golf instructor, Woody, today. I usually have these lessons once a week. Last week I had a water-heater issue at the house so I needed to cancel my early morning 9-holes-on-the-golf-course-at 7am. That lesson goes about 2 hours.

I call them lessons. I should really call them sessions. I don't know how much a 'real therapist' charges but I imagine it's a lot more than what I pay Woody!

While I'm trying to work on my swing (start taking the club back and bend my left wrist as soon as I move my arms, in order to re-route my back swing and loop it like a Jim Furyk copycat (and good luck with that happening), we start talking about his ((Woody's, not Jim Furyk's)) bathroom remodel, and E&E&C (((Evan, Erin, Cadel))) who came by my place for a couple of days and then headed back to San Diego.

Argh! I think I need Nana lessons as well as golf lessons. I cried shortly after they left, while working on one of my transactions. I'll never be a good Nana. When I stepped away from my head talking at me, I realized that I was not a normal mom, either.

I think Carl and I were trying to find balance in our lives. I wanted to work and I did and I do now! Carl became a Mr. Mom (when I was flying), and I became a Ms. Dad (when he was sailing or meeting builders around the world).

My folks stepped in for both of us, and they loved having the kids with them in Newport Beach. Sutter went there the summer I flew in Alaska. And Sutt and Evan both went there when Carl and I were part of a 6 person crew racing to Hawaii on one of his designs. Bless both of my parents.

Then Woody stepped in (literally and figuratively). He took my 9 iron from me and started showing me that my body got left behind when I made my arms swing. OK. NO more disconnect from me.

I asked him about his bathroom remodel. How'd that turn out? Good! He said he remodeled it for his wife and for his adults kids. My response was what if he lives there another 30 years? Will he feel impelled to do it over again? Plus, one of his daughters and her boyfriend decided to pick up a dresser and move it into Woody's house, where they don't live.

When he went into his mom's house, it just felt old. So that was his motivation in fixing his own house up. Made sense to me, but he should do it for himself and his wife, not for his kids.

Then it came back around to me. He suggested that I was ahead of my time, starting from the ground up and learning to fly, and then delivering and repo-ing planes (not like the TV show...we had minor adventures but no cameramen), and then hauling salmon in DC4's in Alaska.

As I was leaving, a great guy, Bob, who does a lot of volunteer work at our muni course, wondered how my session went? He said he wanted to have some sessions with Woody, but he's always booked. Bob knows that my golf lessons are also my therapy sessions.

Yeah, I could use some lessons on being a Nana. But I imagine that's why Cadel has another set of grandparents. Variety, that's the spice of life. I can, and will live with that.

Live richly, marilyn

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