While They Were Here

Remembering the Details

Over the course of that short weekend, we reminisced often about both of Alyson’s parents. They were very good people who left the world better than they found it. Alyson’s siblings—all of whom had traveled to St. Simons—shared memories both large and small: bike rides, dance recitals, birthday parties, scouting events, navigating the business world, weekend trips to the Carter Fold, a concert in Tennessee, or simply sitting quietly in a hospital room after a life-saving operation.

The stories surfaced naturally—small fragments dropping into conversation throughout the weekend—and they were fascinating to listen to.

The Things I Wish I’d Asked

And somewhere in the middle of all that remembering, it hit me: there are things I really wish I had done with my own parents while they were still alive.

It’s not that I didn’t have the chance. In my forties, I screwed up badly (you can read about it here), and I moved back in with Mom and Dad for a few years. Sadly, the first couple of those years are mostly a blur. I remember the last one quite well. Between trying to stay sober (it was rough—but I never touched a drop of alcohol) and working terrible hours for little pay, there wasn’t much time left for fun.

Later, after I managed to get my life back on track and Alyson and I remarried, Mom moved in with us for seven years until she passed away after a short illness. During all those years, I don’t think we ever once took a short vacation together—partly because Mom didn’t want to travel far from home.

That changed when Alyson’s parents moved in with us. They loved three-day weekend trips, and so did we. Even then, though, I don’t remember asking the kinds of questions below. I wish now that I had.

And if your parents are still alive, I hope you will.

Fifteen Things Worth Asking

1. Ask him what he was like at your age. Once, he was exactly where you are now—watch his face light up as he tells you the stories.
2. Record his laugh—the one that shows up when something genuinely delights him. Someday you’ll replay it just to hear it again.
3. Ask him about the proudest moment of his life.
4. Ask him about his favorite songs. Listen together. Laugh. Sing. These become cherished memories.
5. Take photos of him doing ordinary things he loves—watching TV, gardening, playing guitar. These will matter more than posed pictures ever will.
6. Tell him you love him, even if it’s not something you normally say.
7. Tell him you’re proud to be his son or daughter. It will mean more to him than you realize.
8. Listen to music from his youth and watch him turn from “Dad” into a young man again.
9. Thank him for something he did years ago—something small that stuck with you.
10. Ask what it was like for him growing up.
11. Call him for no reason. Don’t take that privilege for granted. One day, you’d give anything to hear his voice again.
12. Take a photo of just the two of you together.
13. Ask him to show you an old photo of himself. It’s a reminder that he wasn’t always “Dad.”
14. Tell him something you’re struggling with, no matter your age. Let him give you advice—even if you don’t need it. One day, you’ll miss his voice guiding you.
15. Ask him what he wishes more people understood about his life.

One More Thing

My father loved to sit in his Brumby rocking chair and read Dr. Seuss to the grandchildren. They adored him. What I wouldn’t give today for a video or two of him reading to any of them. We had a Sony Handycam back then. Why didn’t anyone think to record him?

Today, everyone reading this has a video camera in their pocket. Use it. Record your parents from time to time and save those videos—on your phone, in your Apple Photos library, or wherever you keep what matters most.

I promise you this: once your parents are gone, you will be deeply grateful for those recordings. A photograph may be worth a thousand words—but a video brings their voice, their mannerisms, their presence back to life, if only for a moment. 

This is how love carries on - some moments feel ordinary, and they are...

 —until they become priceless.