Daddy's Little Girl

As we grow older there are certain events that demonstrate time is passing faster then one cares to admit. One of those moments took place for me a few days ago.

What do you do when your child begins to beat you at the game you taught them? Not talking about Chutes and Ladders or Go Fish because those games daddies are good at loosing. Nope, talking about my game. The one I have played for years. I am talking about golf.

There I was last week on the 17th tee box with my 14 year-old daughter. Was having a pretty good day and thanks to a few good shots, seemed headed toward one of my better rounds in awhile. Ran a quick total to see how things were going. Wait, this can't be right... I am only ahead by 1 stroke? Are you kidding me? Recalculate. Yep, numbers are correct. Knew she was getting better but almost even after 16 holes? Wasn't it just a few months ago she was getting a stroke per hole?

After a couple of lucky shots on the final two holes, I was able to leave the course with an ounce of dignity and the narrowest of victories. However, it is painfully obvious that it is only a matter of time before old dad will go down in flames. That day will present both a difficult reality to accept and a magnificent moment in time to realize how my little girl is growing up and moving ahead in life.

She starts high school this week, which has its own realities to accept. However, it is apparent, as she spreads her wings; it is time to step back a bit. With lots of friends, facebook, texting, phone calls, drop offs and pick ups., no longer am I plugged into every minute by minute detail of her life and admittedly finding it difficult to fade into the background.

So I guess I will just enjoy my daughter getting better in golf because time on the course may be one of the few places where it is just me and her. A chance to still teach a little bit of golf but now even more importantly teach a lot of life. All the things that we have talked about for years are no longer way out there some day but have become the days she is about to step into. So it seems well worth the trade of the inevitable loss on the scorecard for the uninterrupted time together.

Now just fear the day she says, "Hey Dad, let me spot you a few strokes to keep it interesting."