Yesterday was a relatively relaxed day at work. We ran a traditional tournament – the wine fest game – and just after the price giving was done, I bought myself a glass of white wine from the sponsor, just to support the spirit of the day. It was a lovely, warm and sunny day yesterday, so I took my glass of wine out to the terrace, chatting away with some of the players.
The morning was gray with fog, I recall, which lifted relatively soon, to give way to the sun. When I pulled up the driveway to my parking lot, I saw a father and his almost grown up son with their golf trolleys on their way to a morning game. The family lives kind of next doors, but both sons are away to study elsewhere. They are just visiting their parents right now, I’ve seen them around during the last two weeks. Even getting their mom out on the golf course again, who hardly ever plays, when the boys aren’t in town. But I still meet her on a regular base, as she walks the family dog every day, so we inevitably bump into each other at least twice a week.
The entire family have been members of the golf club since forever, but they only moved to the neighbourhood some five years ago. Two years back, my sweetheart gave some beginner bridge lessons at the golf club. Michael and Regina participated, so we got to know each other better. As Michael is retired now, I was glad to see him parttake in regular golfing activities such as the Senior’s Monday and the like. They are a sweet couple, very friendly. I recall, when the boys were still little, that they were very eager golfers, but what stuck most, was how well behaved they always were. In fact are, to this day. Whenever they come home, they make sure to pay a visit to us, just to say Hello.
So, of course, last morning, we exchanged a few pleasantries, and off they went to the course and I started my workday. As I sat with my wine in the evening, Michael came and asked to have two minutes of my time. I usually hate being talked up after hours, but he is not known to make a fuss. So I excused myself and followed him inside. I was expecting some full blown complaint about something. Coming from him, it must be grave, because Michael just never complains. What he told me two seconds later, I couldn’t comprehend at first. Regina has died. In my mind, all Reginas of our golf club, that could possibly have died, raced through. Alas, none of them were old enough or ill, to my knowledge. So I just stared at him untill the penny dropped. His wife has died. Out of the blue. While he and his son were out playing. She was sound asleep, he told me, when he left. All four of them originally wanted to play, but Regina sat up until late with her sons and said, she’d rather sleep in. The boys were to go play golf and then get breakfast, where she would join in. One son opted for sleeping late, too. The other two did as planned. When Regina wasn’t up after the table was set, Michael went upstairs to get her up. She will never get up again.
There sat a shocked Michael, who didn’t know what to do. Police have taken her body to the coroner’s but do I know the mortician in our membership. And would I please call him. And where is a real nice graveyard around here. Does one have to have a priest, even if one is not a church member. Or would a mortician also provide someone to speak. And how to live on. Breaking down in tears with this. Save for the last question, I knew what to do. His sons filed into my office. Silent, wordless, they sat down next to their father. It looked much like they wanted to just stay, not knowing, where to go now.
After I had set in motion, what could be organized on a Saturday, we just fell silent again. After a while, I mentioned the dog. Which finally got them up, thanking me and going home to a void. It was a heartbreaking thing to watch.
Honestly, I have had it this year. Enough is enough…