Loosening the Grip

“I’m going out to the golf course and do some chipping and putting,” Dad said casually. In unison, Mom and I both
exclaimed, “NOOOOOO!” Dad’s prostate cancer had returned after 15 years in remission and the cancer had metastasized to his bones. He took medicine for pain, and while his mind was sharp as ever, his body had betrayed him. For someone formerly athletic and vigorous, it killed Dad not to be able to do the things he once did. His favorite hobby was golf, but the truth was he didn’t have the strength to swing the long-range clubs.

And then Dad was out the door. “Be back in a couple of hours,” he hollered. Nobody was going to tell Bill Butler what he could and couldn’t do.

Mom and I looked at each other in dismay. We were thinking the same thing: what if he got dizzy from the pain meds, fell and broke some bones? They were already brittle. He was scheduled for an experimental trial soon. If something changed, he might not be eligible. The agony in Mom’s eyes was reflected mine.

Finally, Mom said, “He loves golf so much, Pat. If he still gets pleasure from going to the course, we have to let him go. We just have to trust God will take care of him.”