Our Life in Golf

Chapter 16 A League of Her Own

16

A LEAGUE OF HER OWN

Dad knew how to wield authority with love. That was the secret to his success with people. He was patient and kind...just as quoted in Corinthians.

I had this written on my first wedding invitations:

I MAY HAVE ALL

Knowledge

I MAY HAVE ALL

Faith

BUT IF I HAVE NOT

Love

IT IS AS TINKLING BRASS.

How did Dad feel about women? He would say, "A man can build a building, but a woman can create a man."

Mike chose a wife who could be all he needed her to be, and more. His considerable talents and interests were reflected in her. He also tapped into her family's nobility and natural good sense of humor while building their lives together.

Born in 1919 on Valentine's Day, Martha was about 11 when the Great Depression hit. Everyone had to help out, so as a young teen Martha was working with her older sister at a glue factory, when also recruited into the Racine Bells, a women's professional baseball team that competed from 1943 to 1950, and, they won the league's first championship!

During the Depression the ladies working in factories had to do the heavy-lifting the men used to do and because of that Martha suffered from back pain for most of her life from that point on. That didn't stop Martha and her super-talented older sister, Jean, from staring on the team!

Soon Jean and Martha met their future husbands when Martha began the noble task of dedicating her gifts and resources to growing a home for a man she truly admired—determined to honor her till-death-do-us-part marriage vows.

Big, dreamy emerald green eyes along with her lean, athletic, Polish body were part of her compelling look. A fine-featured face with a thin nose and her Dolly Parton smile was where her family's pet nickname for her, Dolly, came from!

Rather than engage in destructive hostile arguments, the couple preferred quiet conversation and mutual respect to ground them—thoughtfully thinking things over while reaching an agreement, apparently able to read each other's minds.

I wish I was more like my parents, but living single for most of my life has sapped too much of my energy and strength. What do they say, Two Heads are Better than One?

Martha lived to be 97. My father cherished, protected, and respected her—what they had between them was undeniable. More than just respecting Mike, they were great friends who could have fun, within reason, doing almost anything together.

They both possessed a mutual integrity. Just imagine being comforted and reorganized energetically just by being able to hug someone you value and care about that much.

When you share that kind of relationship, a profound healing can occur merely by being in that person's company, or by only sleeping next to them in bed—next to a quiet, comforting soul instead of what my life has mostly been, sleeping with an enemy of unending troubles.

My mother had a useful stubborn Polish patience and carried herself with a regal dignity—joined to my father I believe by the Hand of God.

They were close enough friends to go to church together and during one fateful mass Mike hid an engagement ring in her prayer book when Martha had gone to communion. He proposed on his knees—such was his piety and innocence, launching their marriage on a firm foundation of mutual respect.