One of our favorite activities was playing miniature golf at this pink and green golf course. It was one of the really cool ones, with the windmills and castles and stuff. I loved that golf course.
For some reason, we started calling ourselves by the names of professional golfers. Patti pretended to be Arnold Palmer. I pretended to be Jack Nicklaus. Jennifer pretended to be Lee Trevino (I think, I don't really remember.) We called ourselves Arnie (short for Arnold), Nick (short for Nicklaus), and Lee (short for um...Lee). I'm not sure why. We were young and spontaneous and full of wonder and imagination.
Time went by, we graduated, and went our separate ways.
Jennifer got married and had a daughter. We eventually lost touch with each other, which I attributed to her trying to keep up with a husband and toddler.
Patti and I stayed friends for a long time.
We snail mailed. We e-mailed. We sent each other presents. She commented on my blog. In late 2012, we had a bit of a disagreement over politics, and she severed all contact with me. I missed her. She was my friend.
About a year ago, I got an e-mail from another college friend. He'd gotten his copy of our alumni magazine. There in the Memorial section was my dear friend Patti's name. She had passed away in 2013, and I never knew. Soon after that, I got a Facebook friend request from Jennifer. She sent me a message reminding me who she was -- as if I could forget one of my best friends! I'm so happy to have her back in my life.
Sunday, I received some sad news. I immediately messaged Jennifer to see if she had heard. The great golfer Arnold Palmer had passed away at the age of 87.
We reminisced a bit about our college days, and then Jennifer said, "I wonder if Patti will tell him about our golf." I wonder, too, if our Arnie will tell Arnold about our golf. I kind of hope so.
I think he'd like that.
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