Ever had one of those moments where you say something to someone... only to realize that someone once said it to you?

That happened to me last week. I was playing golf on our league day, and since I came later than the other folks from work, I wound up playing with two high school kids (boyfriend and girlfriend couple). I always have this instinct to nurture people that are younger than me, and this wasn't any different, especially since the girl was only playing for the second time. (Ok, so she didn't really play - she was just riding along in the golf cart for her boyfriend's sake.) So a few holes into the round, the guy shanks a shot and expresses his disgust with it. The first thing that came out of my mouth was "Eh, don't worry about it. Just remember the good shots."

At that moment I got a huge lump in my throat as I remembered that my grandfather used to say that all the time. And the next moment brought a flashback of all the things he used to do and say while golfing. Taking a mulligan at random points on the course if he was really fed up. Making fun of slow people in front of us. Brandishing his "secret weapon" club (it was one of his fairway woods). Strutting around in his classy "golf fashion" clothing. Telling us the three don'ts of golf: don't rush, don't look up (while swinging), don't use brute strength. Then I realized just how much of an impact he had on my life. I still use the golf clubs he gave me six years ago, just before I started playing on my high school golf team. I putt with the putter he bought just for me, even when he was dying of lung cancer - he went to the pro shop in a wheelchair and selected the putter himself. I remember how much he loved classical music - he had hundreds of classical music CD's. He always liked to hear me play - from the time I was still squeaking like rusty door hinge to the point where I could perform his favorite pieces.

Grandpa died on May 24, 2000. In some ways, it feels like yesterday because of the influence he had on my family. In other ways, it feels like a long time ago since things have changed so much. My father and his siblings are getting older and closer to retirement (from their first careers, anyway... no one in our family actually retires). My cousins and I are growing up and leaving home. It saddens me that my youngest cousin (who was 1 at the time of my grandfather's death) will never have the chance to know her grandpa. We always thought that Grandpa would live to be 100 because he lived such an active life up until his year-long struggle with cancer. It just didn't happen that way - yes, he lived a fulfilled life, but I still feel that it was truncated.

There are times that I wonder what he would think and how he would react to things. About my accomplishments in college. About the activities of my extended family members. Grandpa always encouraged us to strive for greatness and success through hard work. And although my grandfather was not without faults, his focused attitude, tenacity in difficult times, and brilliant achievements remain in my heart forever.

I still remember you, Grandpa. I still remember.