​I’ve been part of the Monday Night Ladies League for about ten years now. Although some ladies have come and gone, others stay - if not physically, most definitely in my heart. One of those ladies was B – just B, not Bea, or Bee. She hailed from England, and her delightful British accent and use of the language captivated those around her. She was kind and caring and always had a word of encouragement for those she golfed with. One of the things I remember most about her were her outfits – she always matched head to toe, from her visor to her shoes, in colors and patterns that complemented her fair skin. Last season B did not play with us. During the winter she was diagnosed with cancer, by the summer she was in hospice care, and by the early fall she had passed away.
 
Last night as we finished up the eighth hole on the course, my foursome stopped to take a close look at the memorial that had been set up for her – a carved out tree stump that housed her bag and clubs along with a simple plaque. Some admirers had left tokens of tees or balls, and I was proud to add mine to the collection.
 
I am by far not a good golfer. In fact, I am among the worst in the league. I have often asked myself why I keep coming back year after year, and the answer is always the same. It is because of the people who have touched my heart in special ways, offered support and encouragement, and who have helped me be a better person. And isn’t that the way life should be?
 
Here’s to you, B!