I am thankful for the life of my dad, Fredrick Thompson Tulley (1919-1983), his influences on me, and the mentoring, coaching, and love he showed to me over the years he was alive. Today would have been his 94th birthday. Unfortunately, lung cancer took him when he was only 64 years old – 30 years ago. As I am approaching the age he was when he died, I realize how young he actually was when he passed away. But time and tide do not diminish the memories that he left with me. Thanks, Dad! Dad was my golf coach and always showed care and compassion as he would often put my deteriorating golf game back together with my broken ego and heart. Even now, I remember the tips he would give me and I try to emulate them when trying to improve my game.
The photo above shows a collection of things that belonged to my dad. Although they are in no way representative of the man he was, they do rekindle some fond memories, a few smiles, and a misty eye or two. The old faded photo below is one of the first photos I took and developed in our basement darkroom when I was something like ten years old. It is of my dad holding a Kodak rangefinder, exactly like the one with which I took the photo, and our family dog Cindy. -rt
dad
years ago
we stood on the first tee
he wore a brightly colored striped
orange, green, and white jacket
with pride
and i had made fun of him for it
but i knew it was dad
and we shared a laugh
what can I say about dad
that would do him justice
from the early memories of him
to the later ones
he’ll always be inside my heart
his lessons a part of me
his trust
his love
his laughter
as he entertained all of us
with the stories he told
his mentoring
his compassion
the father-son tourneys
that we never did well in
but playing together were highlights
times when i caddied for him
more times when he caddied for me
it gave me confidence
to do better than i knew
that old jacket
not nearly as brightly colored now
as it once was
still hangs in my closet today
that jacket
remains as one of my most precious mementoes
of the times we shared.
© rt tulley