We are finally beginning to see our first glimpse of spring, with the temperature attempting to break the 50-degree mark and the trees deciding that it's time to bud. Of course, this means golf season can't be far behind.

Throughout my lifetime, I've been called many things, but a "golfer" isn't one of them. While I play the game, to me it is just that — a game. It's meant to be enjoyed by friends and family, spending time walking on well-manicured lawns and enjoying nature. It's about camaraderie and sportsmanship. Let's face it. What other sport allows participants to keep their own score and police themselves?

For the past dozen years or so, many of my golf outings have included Rittswood Golf Club, about five minutes from my home. Due to my consistent nature and participation in a golf league, I've become more than just a customer to the owners.

They've watched me make a great shot from time to time and they've watched me turn into a (hopefully) respectable father, as they've experienced the birth of my two children.

My friend Edna Ritts was the owner for what seemed to be an eternity. Edna was much older than me if you are counting in normal "years," but frankly, she and I were about the same age, as her spirit was that of a person in their mid-30s.

Our bond deepened when my kids started coming to the course about a year or so ago to "help." Gaga (that's my mom) works at the course and puts away golf carts or cleans the serving area. The kids work for a bag of potato chips and a ride on the golf court. Shhh. Please don't tell the Department of Labor.

Regardless, during our evening expeditions over to the course to help, Edna would often arrive in her personal golf cart accompanied by her dog, Rosie.

The kids thought that it was so cool to see Edna driving a golf cart equipped with headlights, and to see Rosie riding shotgun was, well, just unthinkable!

Imagine the delight my 5-year-old felt when Edna would let him drive her around the parking lot or pet Rosie.

This golf season, though, is going to be much different. Edna passed away this fall, and to say that my life will never be the same is kind of like saying golf is a challenging game.

It is going to be difficult to walk through the doors with my kids to help Gaga work without wondering where Edna is. I half expect her to show up, with Rosie in tow, greeting me with the same warm smile of someone who knows what life is about.

My kids know that she's somewhere special where the sun is always shining and golf is played year-round, which is important.

For Edna, golf was a metaphor for life, not her life. She didn't live to play the game, but instead, lived to watch others enjoy playing the game each day. She donated the use of the course to the local high school team each year instead of charging them, and I can't tell you how many bags of potato chips or peanuts my kids have devoured in exchange for "working."

The bottom line for Edna really didn't have to do with the bottom line, which is unlike so many businesses today. The bottom line was about taking a nice walk with a friend or family member, and if you happened to hit a nice shot or have a good round, more power to you.

Edna will be missed by so many, and I am just grateful that I have the chance to tell so many her story about the meaning of golf. Have a great season.