Holidays, the time when it is most difficult for me to face forward toward the future. Perhaps I should embrace what seems natural and make these days the days of my year that I face backward in memory and reflection.
So, right now, I watch the U.S. Open and know that this year at Pinehurst my father is there, a gift returned by a son who remembers and appreciates another U.S. Open back in 1974. a open where a twelve year watched Arnie's Army mill through while dad killed some internal demons with alcohol in the beer garden nestled between three holes.
Isn't that life? Joy and pain intertwined inextricably but explicably.