I think about this guy from time to time, and I don't even know his name. But every now and then when I walk past the desktop computer downstairs, this will be playing as part of the screen saver slide show, and I have to stop every time and watch it.
Because I'm so amazed.
Hubby played golf with this guy exactly one time, in Biloxi, Mississippi. This was in July of '05, just before Biloxi and much of the rest of the Gulf Coast of Mississippi got washed away with New Orleans. The casinos have been rebuilt in Biloxi, but we haven't gone back.
Hubby had told me about playing golf with this man the day before. On our last day there, he called me to come ride in the cart with him for his last 9 holes before we headed home. Is he romantic, or what?
I was in awe of this man, and I was also in possession of a new digital camera that was capable of recording video.
I whispered to Hubby, "Do you think it's all right if I take some video of him?"
"Sure," he replied. And then he yelled to the man, "My wife wants to take some pictures of you. That all right?"
At that point I was hoping Hurricane Dennis would act a little faster and just swallow me and the golf cart up right there on the #7 tee box. Just kidding. I have no idea what hole it was. Hubby could probably tell me, though.
This man said he lost his leg to cancer, but he was determined to continue playing golf. He said it took about two years to learn how to keep his balance while hitting the ball, and it took many, many times of falling down and getting back up again.
I have to wonder if I would have that kind of determination if the situation called for it. Or if I would curl up in a corner somewhere and feel sorry for myself. I don't wonder too long, though, because I think I know the answer. And it's the wrong one.