While I was browsing Twitter this weekend, I noticed that someone wondered if there would be many “golf widows” this weekend. If it wasn’t for my husband, I would have paid no attention to that tweet. But because Dan was so excited about it, I knew that The Masters was being played over the weekend.
Now let me start by telling you all about me and golf.
… … …
Yeah, that’s about it. I think I have played golf twice, and both time I fared miserably. All I remember is that there was lots of walking and I got sunburned. And had you asked me a few years ago what the worst thing to watch on television would be, golf would top my list.
But when my husband told me about his desire to watch this weekend’s tournament, I smiled and let him know that I thought watching it was a great idea.
When I first married my husband, the last thing I wanted to watch was sports on television. Hockey, football, and golf were his go to sports. But, he didn’t watch my team in hockey, I didn’t even have a team in football and I just didn’t understand the appeal to golf. At least we didn’t have to watch soccer anymore, which was a staple when his Welsh roommate was around.
But as our marriage progressed, I started noticing myself looking forward to these sport-watching days. I started to enjoy it a few football seasons ago. Sundays became a ritual of church, lunch and football. The television was on, but I wasn’t required to pay much attention. I would sit close to my husband in the rocking chair, cover myself with a blanket and dive into a book, emerging periodically to have a little conversation with my husband about what was going on with the game. Sunday afternoons turned into quiet time which required nothing of me.
After a few months, I found myself missing football season.
But the ritual started to change.
Instead of Sunday afternoon football, we would start watching Hockey Night in Canada. My Saturday nights soon found me silently hoping for a win for the Toronto Maple Leafs, because I knew my husband would enjoy it. Once Cameron came around, I noticed the joy in my husband’s eyes as he handed my son a stick and taught him to puck-handle a blue, circular toy. My heart burst with pride as I saw Cameron wearing his jersey and getting excited every time his Daddy cheered. Slowly, but surely, I started getting into the games, cheering a little louder than silently and sharing in my husband’s excitement for a win.
(Allow me to pause to let any Montreal fans shake their heads in disapproval).
So, when Dan told me that this weekend would be a golf-watching weekend, I didn’t sigh in annoyance. I didn’t run onto twitter to start gushing about becoming a golf widow. No, I looked forward to the time. I anticipated a free computer to get some photo editing done. I used some of “Dad’s golf time” to have “Mom’s bath time”. And sometimes I watched and cheered right alongside my husband.
I’m not a sports-widow. I never will be. I’ve embraced this thing that my husband loves and have become closer to him because of it.
So bring on the hockey. Bring on the football. Bring on the golf!
I’m linking up today with Courtney’s No Mom Talk Monday. Pop on over for some more great posts!
