Thursday November 22 - Just Before Dark
Barry and I search in the twilight to find our golf balls. There is just enough light for me to see mine in the left green-side sand trap and his is nearby, perched nicely in the green grass just short of the same bunker.
I assess where my ball has come to rest and determine that my prospects of being able to get out of the bunker cleanly and make par on our twenty-first and final hole of the day are slim. Proper protocol would be for me to allow him to play his shot first - since he is “away”. We both realize that my situation is problematic and I may need some extra swings to get my ball out of trouble. He waits patiently near his ball as I break protocol and dig my feet into the sand and prepare to swing.
The ball slides up of the face of my club cushioned with just the right amount of sand and floats high and soft over the grassy mound above my head in front of me. The sound of the ball landing gently on the green confirms what I saw as it disappeared into the darkness - I may make par on this hole after all. Most Excellent!
The official rules of golf suggest that you wait until the ball comes to a complete stop before you compliment your playing partner by saying “good shot”. I pause a moment in my best confident pose - but I only hear silence. That’s odd. This may be the best shot I’ve hit all day and Barry is always polite and enthusiastic. Why didn’t he say “good shot!”? I puff out my chest and with bravado turn to my right to make sure he was aware of my feat of skill.
I’m startled to see him distracted and bewildered in the near-darkness searching the upturned palms of his hands and the ground around him. His club is laying on the ground at an oblique angle and my mind flashes to take in what is happening a few feet away from me.
The scene being played out reminds me of that movie cliche where a character is realizing that he has been shot only because he sees blood on his hands and then looks down to see a hole in his gut. And for a brief instant I wonder if that is what happened to Barry.
He slowly looks in my direction, with his upturned and empty palms with his fingers spread apart and says tensely “We need to do that St. Anthony thing again” He looks at the sky where the sun used to be and adds “quickly...”.
And then he tells me what the problem is.
Uh oh - the Sisterhood isn’t going to be happy about this. We are going to need their help, but they will have to be managed. It’s the second time today. St. Anthony may be a bit annoyed as well...
Wednesday November 21 - The Previous Day
The level of activity around the house was higher than usual in anticipation of Tracy and Barry’s arrival for Thanksgiving. I left Kim and Laurie to the household chores and took the car to perform my own list of errands.
In a moment of inspiration - I dangerously changed lanes and pulled into the parking lot of the Wildwood Florida bagel store. A sesame bagel with a schmear of cream cheese is the perfect indulgence to top off my outing. Besides - I’m in no hurry to get home and do cleaning.
I sat in the car with the windows open and the radio on and enjoyed a few moments of alone time while I enjoyed the fresh air, Florida sunshine, and my secret treat.
I chuckled to myself at a text message that I received from Kim who was on bathroom cleaning duty. My princess had just learned that Laurie doesn’t use toilet brushes and those wasteful expensive cleaners - she cleans the “old school” method with a wet hand and soapy paper towel.
I brushed aside some guilt as I carefully captured the falling sesame seeds into the styrofoam clamshell container and had fleeting thoughts about my best strategy for getting rid of the evidence. I contemplated running across 4 lanes of traffic to drop it into a bin on the sidewalk - but instead I decided to pick up the loose sesame seeds and secure them along with the plastic knife and empty cream cheese cup into the styrofoam container. I closed it neatly and placed it under the seat where I could later drop it in the trash at the house or someplace along the way. I would have time to work out those details later.
Wednesday November 21 - Meanwhile, about 90 miles away...
Barry sat on a Disney bench waiting for Tracy to run a few last minute shopping errands at the village. He was passing the time staring at his smart phone.
At a break in his social networking routine - he noticed a food court nearby.
Barry enjoyed a few moments of alone time on the bench while he enjoyed the fresh air, Florida sunshine, and his own secret treat of Italian Ice and Pretzel Dog. He deposited the physical evidence into a Disney Trash bin a few steps away and turned back to his phone while he waited for Tracy to return.
Barry and I independently enjoyed our solitary indulgences on that sun-filled moment - just as we share the bond of being married into the Sisterhood. We experience the unique love, joy, and exceptional challenges of being husbands of The Sisterhood.
The Sisterhood
Laurie raised her daughters from an early age. She was divorced when they were young and the three of them formed a unique, strong, and lasting bond. The girls enjoyed a close and loving relationship with their father as well - but the Sisterhood is a special thing and I don't think any man will ever truly bond as an equal member. I jokingly named this bond “The Sisterhood” a few years ago after some trivial protocol incident hi-lighted the secondary status that Barry and I share in Laurie’s family hierarchy.
The Sisterhood is persistent, resilient, frugal, loyal, smart, and very detail oriented. The Sisterhood begins each phone call to their partner with “Where are you” and ends each with “I love you”. The Sisterhood expects precise and complete answers to their questions.
The Sisterhood struggles to understand that sometimes when you ask a man “what are you thinking about?” - the true answer is “my balls itch and I’m wondering if I should scratch them”. Husbands of the Sisterhood learn that when she asks “Where are you?” - the answer should include where you are, where you have been, where you intend to go and what you have been doing, are doing, and intend to do. Any answer lacking any of those elements will trigger a series of follow-up questions and it’s just easier to disclose the entire story in one breath.
Barry and I, 90 miles apart, both decided to omit our treats in our versions of our answers. Why open up a topic that is best forgotten and buried at the bottom of the waste bin?
Why didn’t you wait for me? Did you get me one? How much did it cost? Did you log it in your fitness pal? How many calories is that? Did you get any crumbs in mom’s car? How did you know there was a bagel shop in Wildwood? Have you ever had a pretzel dog before?
This could be exhausting - so how about we just leave that part out. What difference does it make?...
St. Anthony, St. Anthony Please come around Something is lost And cannot be found
On a trip to Italy I made a special effort to visit the Vatican in Padua Italy (yes, there is more than one Vatican... you can look it up). This is where St. Anthony is honored and they actually have his pickled tongue in a jar on display (because his words helped so many people).
I will never forget the visit because even though I’m not Catholic I have a special relationship with St. Anthony. I was introduced to him 20 years ago by a Catholic friend who helped me find lost car keys. I have also said the prayer to find a hopelessly lost disposable camera that blew off of a motorcycle somewhere along a 10-mile stretch of a remote hiway in South Dakota. There was also a lost golf ball incident in a match with Cousin Virg where I immediately found the ball and simultaneously felt guilty for bothering St. Anthony to help me win a golf bet. I promised that in the future I would save the prayer for more important lost things.
Thursday, November 22 Afternoon
The Thanksgiving meal was on the table and looked inviting - but everything was on hold. Kim and I were sitting awkwardly at the table and not sure what we should do. Barry had just realized that his wallet was missing and he was making phone calls in the next room. He thought he may have left his wallet in the rental car console. He had turned in the car the previous day at the Orlando airport and he was on the phone with the Budget rental car specialist who was trying to track down the family who rented the car after Barry. Laurie and Tracy were looking around the house. When Barry got off of the phone everyone gathered back around the table to think through the next steps. Laurie decided to go out and re-check in her car and Tracy decided to get on the computer to see if anyone was using their charge cards. Barry, Kim, and I talk about how he may be able to get on his flight home without ID if he works it out with TSA ahead of time.
We were interrupted when Laurie came screaming back into the house. “Ahhh - I reached under the seat to see if Barry’s wallet was there and I touched a box and I heard mouse paws scurrying across the bottom of it!! “
Uh oh. I never threw away the evidence. Is is possible a mouse actually found it already? It was just yesterday!
She grabbed an oversized set of bbq tongs and a kitchen knife and she and Steve went back out to the garage to capture the mouse in the mysterious white box. I waited with dread and prepared to answer the barrage of questions.
Tracy had looked up from the computer screen when Laurie screamed. Once they went back out to the garage she looked back at the screen and then she shouted “Oh MY God!! Someone has stolen your wallet and used your credit card at Italian Ice!”
She barely got the words out when Laurie came back inside shaking an open styrofoam clam shell so the sesame seeds were making a sound that could be mistaken for mouse paws. Steve was behind Laurie making mocking bbq tong clamping gestures in the air as if he was capturing an invisible mouse.
“Somebody had a sesame bagel with cream cheese and left the container under the seat”. Everyone looked at me.
At this point Barry and I are just realizing that we have both been exposed in virtually the same minute of time. We get about 1/2 second to glance at each other with knowing looks of our shared plight before the room fractures into multiple conversations from the Sisterhood. Barry and I face the music in opposite corners of the room.
You had a bagel without me?
While I was shopping...?
You let me think it was a mouse? (well - it still could have been a mouse...)
You know how much I love bagels!
Yesterday?? You didn’t tell me that when I asked you where you were?
etc. etc. etc.
Once things settled down we all ate the Thanksgiving meal and then Tracy said the prayer to St. Anthony and we found the wallet (in the car under the sun visor) within 5 minutes.
Barry and I decided to take the golf cart to see if we can play a few holes before it got too dark.
Thursday November 22 - Just After Dark
Me: The Girls are going to wonder where we are - I need to call them. Can I tell them what we are doing?
Barry: Sure. We are probably going to need their help.
Here is the call that I should make - following the standard Sisterhood protocol script:
Kim: Where are you?
Me: Barry and I are driving west on St. Charles avenue towards Sandhill golf course. When we left the house we originally played 9 holes at Turtle Mound golf course and when we finished it was still daylight so we decided to play another 9 holes at Sandhill. When we finished there was still enough daylight so we played as many holes as we could at Southern Star. At our third hole at Southern Star, Barry realized that he had lost his wedding ring at some point. Most likely when he removed his golf glove. So we are re-tracing our steps over the last 21 holes to try to find the lost wedding ring and we would appreciate it if you would get some flashlights and meet us..... etc. etc. etc.
For some insane reason I decide that I should attempt to shortcut the Sisterhood phone call script and jump right to the important part. I am reminded that it is a mistake to try to avoid the sequence of where we were, where we are, and where we are going...
Kim: Where are you?
Me: in the golf cart on the way to Sandhill
Kim: {muffled - they are on the way to Sandhill} What are you doing?
Me: Barry lost his wedding ring and we have to re-trace our steps to find it. I need you to get as many flashlights as you can and meet us at #4 at Southern Star. Say the St. Anthony prayer and we will meet you there.
Kim: Are you at Sandhill or Southern Star? Is this a joke?
Me: No
Kim: {muffled - Barry lost his wedding ring} No - you are not at Sandhill or no it’s not a joke?
Me: We are at Sandhill. We want to meet you at Southern Star. This is not a joke. Get flashlights. Say the prayer.
Kim: {muffled. more muffled.} Are you just trying to be funny? Where are you really? Where have you been? What were you doing? Why do you keep telling me to go to Southern Star when you are at Sandhill?
As we approach the designated meeting place we can see the three of them in the distance. They have extra flashlights of all sizes and shapes. Barry and I outline the situation and we work out a plan. The scope is daunting. If you were to stretch out the 21 golf holes we had played end-to-end it would span over 3 miles. And now it is completely dark and the golf cart headlights don’t provide enough. We really don’t know where along this trail the ring was lost.
Laurie said the prayer to St. Anthony before we arrived. Tracy held out because she wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t a joke and she didn’t want to waste a prayer to St. Anthony. Kim knew that if Laurie said the prayer - that was all that was needed.
We begin the search and shine our flashlights toward the ground and Laurie finds the ring within 5 minutes. Possibly less than 2 minutes. In total darkness and in a place where Barry has never actually been. A thin line of a trail through the sand traces the path left by the ring as it rolled from the grass and came to rest several yards into the sand trap. A sand trap that Barry and I would have never looked in while retracing his steps over 3 miles on our hands and knees in the darkness.
Hugs for Laurie and the three of them disappear into the darkness as they make their way back to the car carrying on a casual conversation about something or other. Barry and I are left behind to collect the golf cart. We are in stunned amazement at what just happened over the past few moments. It was over so quickly and the girls were gone and we are alone in the dark on a deserted golf course. We ride home in silence confounded by our thoughts of how the outcome could have easily been so different.
The Sisterhood is pleased - but not very surprised or amazed. This is how their lives have come to pass. It’s just another problem solved using faith, ingenuity, determination, and confidence. A formula passed down from Laurie that has served them well.
