The Don Cuttill Memorial Golf Tournament was held this weekend. I don’t know what I expected it to be or how I expected to feel or what the emotions leading up to it meant, but it was a beautiful and memorable day. Don’s mother, brother, sister-in-law, and niece were able to attend. David, Don’s younger brother, played on a team with my oldest son and my youngest son, father, brother and nephew also were among the participants (over 40 in all). When I watched the teams drive down the cart path after the first tee, I found it difficult to contain my tears. Later, upon reflection, I was able to grasp and fully understand what I was feeling.
These tears were different. They weren’t for loss, but for the way a legacy can continue long after the temporal. True legacy embraces the past as well as invites the future. Players in this tournament integrated family (those who knew and loved Don the most), friends (golfing buddies and church connections) and then those who never even knew Don, but whom his life and death have touched in some way over the past two years. I found that we were NOT commemorating a memory, but honoring how heritage affects the present. Don was not a memory on Saturday. He ordained the day. He was alive in each one of us. Perhaps in different forms, but he couldn’t have been more “amongst us” if he had been there in the flesh.
For the amount of unrest I have had the past week amid some difficult transitions, this weekend provided the respite my soul longed for. I was energized seeing all the folks at the golf outing and then at the pig roast. I was thrilled that we doubled the amount raised to help those less fortunate in our community. I was humbled by the love. Those who missed the event missed the blessing that this special day brought to so many--and that is too bad. However, I have no doubt that those fortunate enough to have experienced life with Don Cuttill Jr. have been blessed beyond measure. That will never change.