Chapter 1: The Backyard Experiment

Reflecting back, it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time. On the last day of 8th grade, my friend John and I decided to transform a part of his backyard into a putting green. The details of who conceived this plan and who encouraged it have faded from my memory, but one thing was certain: we were eager to make the most of our summer break. We resolved to lower the Zinman's Briggs & Stratton Yard Master mower to its lowest setting, carving out a circle about 20 feet in diameter in the back corner of their yard. After that, we dug a hole in the center and placed what we thought was the perfect golf cup — an empty Chock Full o' Nuts coffee can.

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Section 1.1: The Short Game Challenge

We may have briefly searched John's garage for a whiffle ball bat or a hockey stick to use as a flagstick, but our excitement overshadowed any formalities. Instead, we grabbed his dad's golf clubs and headed out to the makeshift green. Not satisfied with just putting on the now quarter-inch grass, we decided to practice our short game. We took turns chipping with the sand and pitching wedges, completely oblivious to the disaster we were creating. For those familiar with golf and maintaining a lawn, you can imagine the horror: we were not only hitting balls onto a patch of grass that would soon be a barren wasteland but also taking chunks out of the remaining healthy lawn.

Subsection 1.1.1: The Role of Mrs. Zinman

Chapter 2: The Eulogy and Reflection

As I said goodbye to John from the backseat of his mother's car, I wished him well, all the while pondering the possibility of being grounded for an entire summer. That evening, I called him with trepidation.

"How did it go?" I whispered into the phone.

"Not too bad," he responded. "I've got to re-seed the lawn and water it daily until camp, but that's it."

"Wow. Lucky."

"Yeah, it was my mom. She softened him up. By the end, he was almost laughing about it… almost."

Years later, I found myself sitting in a temple pew, flanked by my wife and our friend Eric, as John delivered a eulogy for his mother. After battling numerous health issues, Ann Zinman had passed away last December. John shared heartfelt stories about her kindness and how she often shielded him from his father's wrath. "We'll just keep this between us," she would say after John's mishaps.

John acknowledged his father, whom he referred to as a mensch, crediting him for teaching both John and his brother the values of integrity and honor. Norman sat in the front row, grappling with his grief while beaming with pride at his sons, who honored both him and Ann with their words.

"Is this where we are now?" I asked John as I embraced him after the service.

"We're not kids anymore, CJ," he replied, stepping away to follow his mother's casket to the cemetery.

Perhaps not. Yet, if given the chance, John and I would likely still attempt to create a putting green in his backyard. And without a doubt, Ann Zinman would still be there to save us.

The video titled "No matter what happens your momma always has your back! Leave that toxic pit of despair! #shorts" beautifully captures the essence of a mother's love and support. It serves as a reminder that, regardless of the circumstances, a mother's unwavering backing can guide us through life's challenges.