The golf course in Manzanita brings back many memories from childhood. Spending fall weekends in the small beach town, the course was played yearly. Most days would start with a quick trip around the nine-holes with two or three groups of extended family members. The Manzanita golf course has some unique qualities. The course is short on distance in comparison to most other places. It only has nine holes, instead of the eighteen of most golf courses you will see. There are four par-3 holes and five per-4 holes, with the longest hole measuring just under 400 yards. The golf course holds many of my earliest memories of learning to play. I think because of its length. Being just longer than a par-3 course would normally measure. Manzanita was and would serve as a good place to learn to play. When playing the course a few weeks ago, some interesting things stuck out. It looked much different from the memories I had stored away in my mind. The golf course was much shorter in length, then my memory served. As a kid growing up and trying to learn the game, the course I recall was much more challenging. The struggles I remember when playing the course at a younger age, had disappeared. The shorter length gave me the opportunity to play the back-tees. Something I never have the opportunity to play on a full-length golf course. The two days of playing the nine-hole course in Manzanita were interesting.
Playing the Manzanita golf course was similar to time travel. Taking me back into the days when my father was still around. When uncles, aunts, and cousins would gather around the first tee box on a Saturday, early. Many would have been awakened from a deep sleep not long before the starting time at the course. Brushing the sleep from our eyes, as we wrestled to get dressed in golf appropriate attire. It didn’t involve throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. There were rules about wearing pants and collared shirts. The dash out the door has become legendary in family stories through the years. Laughed about around dinner tables at gatherings for the holidays. The cars would be piled into and driven a couple miles down the road. Pulling into the small parking lot of Manzanita golf course with its modest clubhouse. A place, I honestly don’t remember setting foot into, before this year. A quick calculation by a couple adults, told everyone where they would be playing, that day. As family member gathered to watch on another hit their first tee shots of the morning. The memories of those moments so thick inside my mind. My world would be spinning with anxiety over how I was going to keep up. While, the fall mornings in Manzanita were often cold and wet. To this day, they are some of the most chaotic and fear inspiring games of golf, I have ever played.
Those mornings in Manzanita contained such mixture of emotions. Feeling challenging to sort through years later, after becoming an adult. Because, cerebral palsy plays into the struggles of the experiences. Wanting to be part of every aspect involved with the family outings. But, it involved being asked, whether directly or indirectly, to fight through things. The pressure of battling the challenges of CP, because, to my memory, they weren’t really acknowledged, seems disheartening. The task was accomplished to some extent. Trying to fit into a world where I was expected to not stick out for any reason. Maybe, to not ask for or require extra help, or more patience around the golf experience. There would be mumbles under the breath of family power holders, if I played too slow, struggling to keep up. Of course, I wasn’t as skillful as my cousins. But, because of dynamics, simply my efforts to overcome the challenges of cerebral palsy, couldn’t be commended. Those games of golf on family vacations felt more like situations of invisibility. The skill level to play well wasn’t a part of life with my disability. Turning those mornings into a feeling of keep up and shut up, or else you’re going to feel the whispers. I tried desperately on each of those mornings, doing anything I could to fit. Hoping to be acknowledge for anything other than the person slowing down the process. However, my desperation to feel like a member, only seemed to make matters worse. It felt like an isolating experience, many times.
The struggles of those mornings should be measured with the good. Had it not been for the days of chaos and struggle, golf would probably not be part of my world. A game, which has provided me much joy throughout my days. How could those morning have been handled in a more positive manner? I don’t really have the answers for the question. There would never be a way of placing myself inside the minds of the power holders in the family I was a part. Especially, after growing to realize how competitive the environment has often been. Members not wanting to show an inch of compassion for the risk of diminishing their power. The full picture of family dynamics may never be completely understood. However, the pushing of me, whether more harmful than positive. Provided me the ability to turn hurtful emotion into fuel. The emotions of feeling invisible and problematic, caused a motivation to dive deeper into the golf world. Whether I had the desire of proving people wrong and trying to get noticed, I will never understand. The drive to prove people wrong, led to my first ever job in my high school days. Working at a golf course, early in life, seems uncommon for someone with a disability. But, the mornings of longing to be accepted, were flipped into positivity. Not only that, spending time on the golf course had become something of a sanctuary. Helping me process some of the most challenging of times. The mornings of anxiety and desperation, weren’t left in bitterness. They led to positivity, motivation, and purpose.
Going back to play the Manzanita course stirred up all of the past emotions. Though, playing it in a different environment, brought much more peace. Causing me to look at my experience on the course through a different lens. It can be challenging to ward off the troubling thoughts when walking the course. Each step of a place like Manzanita golf course creates a memory of the troubled past. The pictures brought on by my views, flash unsettling images on the slideshow of my mind. However, those pictures get slowly dented with each step of a new environment. Like the ocean tides slowly wash away a sandcastle. Each wave of clean water, pulls away the memory of what existed once before, replacing it with a blank canvass. The golf course has unique features to intrigue many a golfer. The longest hole on the course measures just 390 yards, moving steeply uphill, as it reaches the putting surface. Then, with the following hole, the player hits off a highly elevated teed box, on a short par-4. The green reachable by many golfers, with above average length to their golf swing. A couple fun par-3 holes follow the elevation changes. Another short par-4 doglegs to the left, around a smattering of trees. All leading to a longish par-3, which ends the interesting, ocean town, nine-hole golf course in Manzanita.
While my first round at Manzanita golf course carried many emotions. The second day of playing the course felt like the blank, sandy canvass. My emotions where washed away by the salty seaside air on that first day. The second afternoon along the nine-hole track began the process of creating new memories for the picture book of my mind. The slivers of peace found amongst the challenging memories of the previous day, found room to expand. The sun came poking through the clouds, as I found desire for snapping some pictures. Preparing to right this blog about my experiences. Maybe, signaling to me, the healing from my past moments was well under way, on that second day. The play was a little better, as I managed to avoid my magnetism for the greenside bunkers, plaguing me the previous day. Though I was hitting my driver well off the tee box, it struggled to carry out onto the fairway, on the short par-4. But, the images in my mind started becoming replaced. The new pictures of good golf swings inside a positive atmosphere. Fading from memory was the need to rush, the emotion of feeling like I was often playing too slow. The new experiences were relaxed, plotting along at a comfortable pace, feeling at peace over my golf shots. There are no golf carts on the Manzanita golf course. Allowing for the opportunity of a walk with a push cart. Something I rarely get to experience when playing these days. It fits with the shortened course and overall feeling, of a slowed down life, in the Oregon beach town.
A Journey With Cerebral Palsy 