Cara McLauchlan
with son Campbell

Golf Lessons from Dad

“Perhaps that’s why I enjoy golf: It puts in 18 holes what life puts in 80 years – ups and downs and a few good bounces.”
Max Lucado

Golf is like a seventh-grade crush. Just like the boy who punches you with disgust while all the time adoring you completely, golf has been both my foe and my beau. Part of me cannot stand this frustrating game. The other side of me absolutely adores hitting that sweet, pure shot.

My dad taught me to golf when I was ten years old. The real reason I wanted to play golf was to spend time with him and understand his fascinating ways. My father was always a great mystery to me -- the father of five children, the town doctor, the absent-minded professor, the curious gardener, the beekeeper and best of all, the great storyteller.

I loved to hear him tell stories of his past and what he was like as a child. Stories of selling fried treats in the streets of Puerto Rico as a child after the Depression took everything. The tales of leaving his family and country politics behind to pursue his dream in medical school. His mechanical discoveries like creating a barbecue rotisserie out of a septic tank. And of course, the stories of golf.

When my father talked about golf, he became a different person. This usually cerebral and stoic man would light up like a church on Christmas Eve. His eyes danced; a crazy grin passed his lips. Golf was my dad’s “it” subject and he became truly alive when our conversations turned to the game.

My dad was a scratch golfer, a student of the game. Always perfecting a new tactic, a trial idea he read or a new concept he saw from watching golf on TV. He loved testing his golf coaching on me and I loved his encouragement. Like a flower straining to the sun, I adored this time spent with my father.

As I grew older, I never really “got” golf. I never understood why my father could be so consumed with a game, especially one that even the best in the world could not master. To add further depth to my lack of appreciation, my dad began building a golf course in his backyard when I was in college. A crazy, far out idea – yet his dream was to create a genuine 18-hole golf course.

Over the years, my dad began acquiring every piece of golf equipment and began clearing his 100 plus acres of farmland to chase the golf course dream. Tiny putting green mowers, giant sand shakers, fertilizer tanks and golf course-style irrigation quietly began to dot his backyard and barn areas. Slowly my dad’s farm began to look like a “country-style” makeshift golf course. At last check, he had completed a putting green, a driving range with it’s own living room sofa and four golf course holes.

Only recently have I begun to understand. After my father had open-heart surgery last year, he was weak and drained for months at a time. I found that just as when I was 10 years old, golf became a place where we could connect again. Despite his health, my dad changed when he talked about golf. His voice grew strong and I saw glimpses of the man I knew when he was younger and swinging a club with strength.

Three generations of golfers: Cesar Colon-Bonet, Campbell (age 2 ½) and Cara McLauchlan

My father no longer plays 18 holes of golf at a time. He has taken on a new role – golf coach. His knowledge of the game is deep. His ability to see the adjustments needed in your game is uncanny. On a recent visit to my home, I named his time with me “Camp Dad” as we enjoyed daily putting and chipping lessons.

I can now say with confidence that I get it. Golf has evolved to a sacred place in my heart. Despite my struggling game, golf has become a soulful place because it reminds me of my dad. It is the place where I can always feel close to him no matter if he is with me or not. I see it as not a charming game or frustrating game, but a way to have a part of my dad with me always.

At age 74, my dad’s backyard golf course dream is still alive. Last time I spoke with him, it was planting season for seeding the fairways. My dad’s outlook on golf has not only taught me a game I can play for most of my life. It has taught me that a big dream with great passion make for an amazing life journey.


Cara McLauchlan is an author, life coach and mompreneur for cranky mommies wanting to get a life. She is the author of “The Portable Red Hot Momma,” a purse-sized guide of vivacious thoughts, available at www.crankymommies.com. To find out more or receive her complimentary e-newsletter, “Musings,”e-mail cara@crankymommies.com or call 919-303-3999.