Less About the Broncos, More About Life
It took me 40 years to understand a basic foundation of relationships, and I hope others will learn from my mistakes.
My grandfather, Howard Yost, passed away on June 20, 2018, at the age of 93. I was close to him, which means this was a dark day for me, even while it was actually a wonderful day for him, as he entered eternal rest and peace.
He used to make us all laugh, and would serenade us regularly. My wife still makes frequent reference to “the Yost men” in the context of random bursts of singing, and this is typically because I, unlike Grandpa, can’t sing very well. Now that I’m very old (in the eyes of my kids), apparently I don’t care that I cannot sing very well, and I just do it anyway. Thanks for the mojo, Grandpa. He’s survived by 16 grandchildren, among many other survivors, and as Grandchild #2 in the age rank (beat my cousin by 10 days, #recognize), I can testify of the lifetime of great memories generated by this wonderful man.
To the driver on I-70 headed up into the Rocky Mountains, circa 1995, who Grandpa cut off in the motor home and almost ran off the road while taking me and my baseball team to a tournament in Grand Junction: I know you were angry, and that finger made it clear, but I will remind you of what Grandpa clearly emphasized, a truth undeniable, “We’re #1 too!”
I’d rather not focus on my shortcomings here, and hesitate to write at all, knowing it’s a feeble attempt. But it’s worth helping others avoid my mistakes before it’s too late.
I’m 40 years old now. Ancient to some, a whippersnapper to others. It took me 40 years to “get it” about a simple, key principle for connecting with what matters. A couple coworkers were instrumental in helping me turn this corner, as was a book I’ve read (multiple times) recently, which rocked my world. But, truth be told, my wife (same wife!) has been after me about it for…pretty much our whole 15-year marriage.
I received the news that Grandpa was likely at the end, and I jumped a flight to Denver in hopes of one last goodbye. I made it. The last day I spent with him, we did chit-chat a little about the Denver Broncos and Colorado Rockies, both being loves of his. Actually, we might not have literally covered the Broncos that day, as training camp hasn’t even opened yet.
It’s not wrong to talk about the Broncos and the Rockies. He loved the teams, and as a common bond, it’s great to chat that up. We liked that. But I’m slow to initiate the meat and potatoes of relationship-driven communication. What’s that mean? It means ask a good question. In this context, “good” isn’t whether Blackmon will homer today and whether that’s directly correlated to his beard length. (Grandpa hated my beard, and that’s OK too — we had a lot of fun with that).
“Grandpa, can you tell me about Greensburg?”
Grandpa was born in Greensburg, Kansas, 93 years ago. His mind may have suffered from the effects of age, but guess what? He immediately dove in. He told me about his dad, my great-grandfather, E.M. Yost. He told me about playing on the basketball team.
Why did it take me 40 years to learn that my grandpa played on the basketball team? What was I doing for the past several decades?
Wasting time, that’s what. Not all of it, but plenty.
Praise God, at the eleventh hour I had a final conversation, and there was a wonderful new little nugget about Grandpa’s past. There were others, too, and I enjoyed seeing, yet again, how much Grandpa respected his dad, evident as he talked about him. I’m thankful I did know some of those other things.
Many of us focus on a lot of pressing concerns. Things like safety and fixing problems. Logistics. The weather. The Broncos. Beard length (or dodging Grandpa if he grabs the scissors).
Life’s full of particulars, of details, but are those usually the most important things? I assure you, they’re not, even if it means a burned (or missed) meal, or running out of mayonnaise, or getting your shirt soaked with rain. They’re just a lot easier to mention and more tempting for commanding attention.
Consider the limited and temporary nature of life. Get an update on the team and a forecast for tomorrow’s high temp, great, but reserve a moment to ask about childhood, or the first time she met her husband, or what happened back when he first went to college, or his first job, or her favorite home growing up.
Are you gathered around the Thanksgiving table? Great time to ask! Chilling at the Fourth of July barbecue? No better time to ask about a favorite Independence Day memory growing up, or if he ever almost blew off a finger.
I’ve reaped wonderful benefits from this even in the past two weeks, and my last moment with Grandpa was only one of them. Maybe someday I’ll write about some of the others. Maybe many more are yet to come.
See you soon, Grandpa, and thanks in advance for helping me find the right pitch & note when we reconvene.
