One of the great things about golf is that it brings together people from all different backgrounds. At a time when we are more distracted and divided than ever, golf is a unifying force for good.
Mothers are also a unifying force for good in the world.
When Janice Blasi was young, she would take her sons Jay (center) and Josh golfing all over Wisconsin.
My mother, Janice Brush, passed away on April 10th.th. She and her father, Jack, were together for 60 years. Since her passing, I have been overwhelmed with love and support from people near and far, old and new. I’m hearing from people I haven’t seen or spoken to in 25 years, and people I barely know.
No one loves you like your mother and we all know that. As we celebrate Mother’s Day, I wanted to share some of my mom’s stories and encourage you to use the bonds that bind us (like golf and motherhood) to fill your lives with joy.
My mother was not a golfer. She had a club but only played a few rounds over the decades. In fact, we jokingly referred to her as the “Golf Widow,” given how often my dad, brother, and I went golfing. Although she had never played golf, she knew the joy it brought us and supported our addiction in many ways.
Jack and Janice Blasi have had a lot to celebrate in their 60 years together, but it hasn’t always been about golf.
When we were younger, she took my brother and me all over Wisconsin to practices, games, and games. She got up as usual, drove us 45 minutes to go to junior golf, drove us home, and came back 4 hours later to pick us up. One summer day, on the way home from junior golf, my brother and I both fell asleep and woke up to the loud sound of corn stalks. My mother was also dozing off. She was so distraught that I had to drive the last few miles home (I was months away from getting my license).
When we went on road trips as a family, she would encourage us to stop and play random courses, leaving us to tag along or go shopping. She completely understood when our family vacation plans meant taking major detours to see famous or hidden trails. The only person who can satisfy our obsession to this extent is our mother.
She loved beautiful surroundings and loved well-crafted experiences. She was thrilled by the views of Lake Michigan from her Whistling Strait clubhouse, the fall foliage in Sugarloaf, Maine, the moose roaming Banff Springs, or the sunset view of bagpipers from her patio in Spanish Bay. Her all-time favorite is to pack lunch in a picnic basket and take a Chris-Craft boat ride to Coeur d’Alene.
I think the hardest part of being a mother who plays golf was watching us play. She always told us that a mother can only be as happy as her least happy child at a time. She walked miles along the fairways watching my brother and I compete for ourselves and the team, and witnessed some heart-breaking moments. At the state tournament, my brother Josh’s playing partner (and opponent) forgot to pull the pin while tending to the flag during a long putt. As a result, my brother was given a two-stroke penalty due to his opponent’s mistake. Life isn’t fair, and so is golf.
It was soul-crushing for me when all the team needed to do to win the conference title was double their record in 18 games.th He holed out, but instead (thinking he had to make birdie) he went for the break and hit a triple to send us into the playoffs. But watching your own child choke and let the team down had to be ten times worse. As only a mother can, she put aside everything that was inside her and lifted me up and sent us out to win the playoffs and made it happen.
I’ve been so lucky to live a life full of love, joy, and amazing adventures. But just like you, I’ve had my down times and felt lost, alone, confused, and depressed. I don’t know how she did it because it never felt like a therapy session, but she filled me up and brought me back to happiness. Somehow she always knew what to say and how to say it, and my confidence was restored and I was ready to conquer the world.
Janice Brush loved spending time with her dogs, Tasha and Jack.
She was always looking to celebrate when things went well. As kids, our family’s favorite pastimes were riding on the pontoon with Tasha (our dog) and tailgating with friends to Badgers football games. But one celebration I will always cherish was when my family flew to Washington to see Chambers Bay under construction, a course I helped design while working for Robert Trent Jones II. They understood that my dreams would come true in real time, and nothing was more important than having them around the pit and cracking a bottle of champagne together.
Of course, the best celebration of all was when Bennett came over and we got to see mother and son together. Without a doubt, it was the highlight of my life. I don’t know why, but Bennett called my mother Num Num. She liked it so much that it became her license plate. Now that license plate is in Bennett’s room and he sees it every morning and at bedtime.
In the coming months and years, we’ll be riding a pontoon on a lake, installing a badger tailgate in its place, and visiting the golf course where I work. We will laugh, tell stories, and scatter some of her ashes so that she can live on in that place forever.
Janice Brush was pleased that her grandson Bennett called her “Num Nam.”
This Mother’s Day, I celebrate my wife, Janine (Nini), who gives Bennett the same love and support that my mother gave me. She is kind, thoughtful, adventurous, and a good soul. The world needs more Nini.
I think some parts of Mother’s Day will be tough. It’s only been a month since she passed away, but I miss her so much. I sometimes pick up the phone to call her. I still listen to the voicemails she left me just to hear her voice. But I know she is happy and at peace. I know she is still watching over me and will find a way to help us when things get tough. Like something only a mother could do.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I love you and I miss you.
And thank you to all the moms, grandmas, stepmoms, pet moms, and mommies!! For showing us all what it means to love unconditionally and support you endlessly. May your generosity and compassion unite us and help us find a better version of ourselves.
– Jay Blasi is a California-based golf course architect who writes occasional articles for GolfWeek and hosts a group of GolfWeek’s best course reviewers from around the world.
This article originally appeared on Golfweek: Architect Jay Brush pays tribute to his mother on Mother’s Day
