Say It… Before You Lose the Chance

Pizza? Check. Wine? Check. Movie? Check.

For some, this sounds like a lame birthday celebration…

For me, this year, that was celebration enough…

I am a believer… I believe you should celebrate your birthdays…

Celebrate them with gratitude, reflection, and a few drinks…

If that’s your thing…

Just don’t take it for granted… Because…

How many more birthdays will you have?

There’s plenty of excuses for why I missed it…

None of them are good enough… And all are related to my calendar…

#TimeManagement

So, I called my grandpa to say, happy belated birthday.

We’ve always called my mom’s dad Grumpy. Grumpy and Granny.

BTW… Those are self-appointed names.

We usually just call them Grump and Gran… For short…

And Grump is short himself…

5’5” of Ragin’ Cajun bad ass straight outta’ Lafayette Louisiana…

His hair? Perfect. His last name? Mouton. His attitude? Grumpy. His confidence? On fire.

He’s just a bad dude…

He built his own house with his two hands…

1960’s hands…

There’s a brick floor hallway that extends throughout the house…

And right off the kitchen there…

Granny would sometimes throw down a small handful of raw rice on the bricks…

And that’s where my brother and I would be put in timeout.

That’s where I learned how to whistle…

Kneeling on the rice on the bricks…

Kneeling… It’s a classic Catholic tradition.

This year, he’s almost 80… Just 1 more to get there…

And he’s miserable… Yep. Grump is grumpy.

It’s not the age thing… Or his struggling memory… Or politics…

Not this time… Now it’s something bigger.

For the working memory of my 34 years, I cannot count how many times I’ve told him…

I love you.

Every time we left their house, after every holiday, and at the end of every phone call…

I love you.

I’ve never once heard him say those words himself though.

Not to Granny, my mom, or anyone.

His replies were routinely either silence or… Ok. Bye.

Thinking about all the years of experiencing this awkward departure…

I can only imagine it being the same way with his father…

For his entire life… He also never heard those words…

Not that it was ever expected…

It just never happened.

And I don’t know for a fact that he wanted to hear those words from dad…

I just know.

I know he did…

These days, I’ll stay on the phone with Gran and Grump for extended periods of time…

Granny needs to tell me everything she’s bought… And how everything is so expensive…

And my entire intention of speaking with Grump is simple.

Just make him laugh…

I need to make him laugh… It’s a must.

I don’t think he laughs much between our phone calls.

And today, the day after his birthday…

I succeeded. He laughed. We laughed.

Which is a great thing… Because yesterday wasn’t so outstanding.

 “What did you do for your birthday?”

“Nothing,” he said. I did absolutely nothing.”

“Oh, ok,” I say looking for the humor. “Because you’re going to do something big for the big one next year?”

With a long exhaling ahhh, “I don’t know if there will be a next one T.”

Hello 5 seconds of silence. Sure, go ahead. Sit down. Take an eternity.

“You know what we used to say about you?”

“Who,” Grumpy asked.

“Me and my brother used to say you and Granny would live forever. Forever. You eat well, you exercise, and I bet you didn’t know this.”

“What,” he asked much more interested now.

“You were the first person to bring me to the gym.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll never forget it. It changed my life.”

I began telling the story of him bringing me to one of his workout sessions at Gold’s Gym.

It was the first time I had ever stepped into a gym.

I must have been 4 or 5, and he had that old-school bodybuilder cutout sweater on…

“I love sports, fitness, and just the act of training, because of you. Because of that day,” I told him.

We continued the conversation… And we laughed together.

Later, Granny started calling him to the dinner table…

So, he ““ had to let me go.

I don’t know how you express in-air quotes when you’re writing…

But that’s what that “” was…

#YouHeardItHereFirst

And, so, it was time again to tell him…

I love you.

Silence… Just 2 seconds this time…

“I love you,” he said back.

I was floored.

Not just because I’ve wanted to hear that since I understood the meaning of those words…

But because of how he said them.

The tone in his voice was honest, accented by the slightest, subtle surprise…

Like he always had needed to say it…

But just didn’t know that it was possible… That it was ok…

That it’s ok to outwardly express intimate emotion…

Maybe there was even a pinch of knowing he should have said them long ago…

And maybe that unbottling was him doing it before he loses the chance forever?

I hope not…

Next year, Mr. Forever will still be here with us…

And I’ll be in Louisiana.

Not for Mardi Gras…

For him… For the King Cake… And for the laughs.

Love you Grump

Tanner Gers is a writer, advocate and, Champion of Change. Find his self-help podcast on iTunes and written musings at TannerGers.com