I wrote about Closure on New Year’s Eve. It was more revealing than I thought, more touching (to readers) than I expected, judging from calls and comments from family and friends.
Eight months on, I revisited the site of my self-discovery like a victim facing the foe.
5.30am. Just as the first train rushed over the rail sleepers, I left my apartment for the club. Several mad truckers were already racing along the ECP towards Jurong.
6.15am. It was still dark when I reached the tee box. Teed-off anyway.
I think its coming back – the old feeling. Not the nagging elusive pain of a failed relationship, but the satisfying pleasure of being able to do something well.
Not bragging here but just to make a point. My shots were all straight on the fairway and covered decent distances. Didn’t need the light to find my ball and didn’t lose any balls. Such play would have been impossible two months ago.
Well, I had some help, actually a lot of help. My brother and his wife were both sympathetic and kind. Being seasoned golfers, they understood my frustration. Gave me lessons and a set of clubs. Try them, they offered. Don’t give up, you’ve got the right swing, they encouraged.
Playing with good golfers works. Playing in air-con weather even better. Let’s hope my renewed golf “prowess” can sustain the conditions here, that is the heat, humidity, rush and fuss of the Singapore game.
In the meantime, I’ll cherish this morning’s play. Even parred the dreaded water hole that my contribution of balls into the pond has been significant over the years.