A friend told me a story today that made me pause to write these thoughts:
Kevin went to the golf course yesterday – as he does now most Sundays. Sometimes he meets his friends – sometimes his brother – a group of guys who work hard all week to support their families and relax one day a week rewarding themselves with good company, a walk around the green, some laughs, some exercise and a chance to perfect some new skills. These are men who no longer muscle their way down the court trying to get a ball into a hoop, or shoulder and ram and tackle their fellows trying to get them to drop the ball before they make it to the end zone. No; instead they are proud to master the finer points of putting or driving – to slip a little white ball into a tiny hole under a blanket of manicured green.
Yesterday, however, turned out to be anything but relaxing. Just two of Kevin’s “crew” could golf yesterday, so, when they got to the golf course, they teamed up with two golfers who turned out to have quite a bit in common with them. Two hard working men, late 40s and 50s who also relaxed by playing golf on the weekends. They were good-natured, jovial guys, happy to be outdoors – friends who had been coming out to the course together for over 20 years.
The four players were on their 8th hole when one of Kevin’s new acquaintances fell to the ground and almost seemed to be horsing around, dramatizing deep disappointment in his golfing performance.
It took several seconds before his golf partner realized he was not fooling around; he was suffering a medical crisis. The men sprang into action: Kevin called 911. His friend took off running to other holes, asking players if there was a doctor among them.
The ambulance took 15 minutes to arrive. In the meantime, several golfers gathered to shield the fallen player from the sun, look out for the arrival of an ambulance and provide support to two players who were desperately administering CPR. They had monitored him closely enough to surmise that he was having a heart attack and/or a crisis with breathing. Kevin had been a lifeguard in his younger days, and he was joined by another bystander who had also been trained in lifesaving skills. The two men took turns pumping their patient’s heart and covering his nose, sealing his mouth and forcefully blowing oxygen into his body. This they did tirelessly until the paramedics arrived and took over.
The fallen golfer still did not survive and was pronounced dead by the paramedics.
How fragile life is! Fragile and unpredictable. Here was a man who was enjoying a lovely day – throwing off the stress of his work week. I wonder if the man had a family – did he tell them often that he loved them. Had he left them the last time he saw them in good spirits, with a hug or a kiss, or a smile on his face?
I paused today, when I heard my friend describe his heartbreak at losing the life of a man he had just met. And I reminded myself to tell him and all my other loved ones – to show them as often as I can – how much I care for them and appreciate them being a part of my life.
Sixty Seconds
If life is but a moment in time
In the vastness of space and time,
Not a second should ever be waster,
To do so, a terrible crime.
Life is dear and precious,
A blink of an eye on earth.
So, let us fulfill every step we take,
To get sixty seconds worth.
Damon Chandler
Come Drink from My Cup