A Holiday Message About Golf, Gratitude and My Grandpa

It's completely natural to wonder, "What if?" We're always curious, us human beings, about the possibilities, aren't we?

It's what piqued my interest about someone who I never had the chance to play golf with, a person who loved the game as much as anyone and it loved him back (most days). Someone who, truthfully, was one of the catalysts for our family playing the game and, more personally, for me having a career in golf as a PGA of America Golf Professional.

That was my Grandpa, Don Adams. He passed away in 1995 when I was three. While I was too little to know him well, like so many, I do know he is missed dearly.

There's always moments on the golf course when I wish he was there teeing it up next to me, especially when I'm with my dad. I know how proud he'd be of me doing what I love. I know he'd probably ask me to pick up the pace so we can finish in under 4 hours. I know he'd probably go help me find my golf ball after a wild tee shot. . . and then go search and find 10 more balls, because he loved finding lost balls. I know how he would've loved teeing it up at sunrise in Northern Wisconsin on our Adams Family vacation, or at summer dusk on our favorite course in Minnesota.

I know all of this because of the memories people have of him. While I never played golf with Grandpa Don, I know plenty who did. As I talked to these family members, I could feel the inherent sense of gratitude they all had for me asking them to rehash old stories and memories. It was hard for me to hold it together reading and listening at times because I yearned so much for just one of those moments; as I'm sure they did.

The more I thought about it, however, the more I was so grateful for them sharing all they could about Grandpa.

How the golf course was his happy place. How he encouraged his sons to think about the next shot, not the last one. How he told my mom to stay away from my dad's golf tips and go take lessons from a golf pro instead (talk about some foreshadowing!).

How during one round at Bloomingdale Golf Club in the Chicago suburbs, he witnessed one of his younger brothers, Joe, make an ace, and then another brother, Jeff, almost dunk it right on top of him . . . all with his dad (my great grandpa) watching. How he would heartwarmingly help my late Grandma Noreen, battling cancer and having a hard time seeing, aim her tee shot, and if it went sideways, she'd quip, "Well it's not my fault . . . my aim guy pointed me in the wrong direction!" and he'd just chuckle.

It's memories that are often lost when someone passes. They're so poignant when you want to know more about someone. Perhaps I was hoping they would fill the void of not being able to play a round with Grandpa, but I actually think they gave me so much more.

They allowed me a moment of gratitude myself.

That I wouldn't be where I am today without him. That his love for golf runs strong in not only me but his family. That so many of his qualities — friendliness, street smarts, humbleness, a family-first mentality, positivity, determination, and more — could be found running through the veins of the entire Adams clan.

As golfers, we know that there's so many parallels between the game and life itself. I think my grandpa knew that so well. As my Uncle Paul, Grandpa Don's second oldest son, told me, "he just wanted the best for his kids, better than he had it, whether it was golf or life. He used the course to teach us lessons about both."

While I didn't get a lesson on the course from Grandpa Don, instead, I feel like I got something even better: his love for the game. And for that, I'm forever grateful.