#tellthemnow — my version

A recent survey of boomer-age people asked what they most regretted as they approached old age. A significant majority cited ‘unresolved issues with parents, who were now deceased’. I totally get that.

As, it seems, do many of my peers. As we collectively shuffle along this mortal coil, many of my cohort are hustling to re-engage, re-unite, or otherwise re-visit ties with their parents. In the past couple of weeks I’ve encountered newsman Anderson Cooper re-kindling his relationship with his celebrity mom (I had no idea they were related) and Juan Thompson’s memoir on growing up as the very conflicted son of gonzo journalist (and personal hero of mine) Hunter S. Thompson.

On this score, I was ahead of the curve. I learned pretty early that my folks wouldn’t necessarily be around that long.

My dad had congenital heart troubles, which led him to require open heart surgery when he was still in his early 50’s. He made light weather of it and, following his lead, so did the rest of the family. As he had repeatedly assured us, the surgery went well, he recuperated strongly, and soon life was more or less back to normal. Only later did we realise how touch and go the situation had been.

Some ten years later he had to go in again. This was in the relatively early days of open heart surgery when it was rare that patients outlived the spare parts implanted within them, but my father managed it and needed to have a couple of components replaced with newer models. Nevertheless, second rounds were exceptionally risky, and this time the expectations were much lower, and more realistic. Chances of survival were maybe 50:50. As Dad was admitted, my mother was told to gather the family and prepare your goodbyes. Which she did. Which we did.

As it happened, he came through, and lived a reasonably robust, active life for almost another ten years before passing away peacefully in his sleep one night with no warning or premonition. Suddenly, after two close calls, he was gone. But his brushes with death had two powerful effects on the family.

After the first one, my father went to great pains to ensure that his ‘affairs were in order’. I think for the first time in his life he faced mortality head on, and realised just how ill prepared he was for it. So he set about ensuring that all his assets and accounts were organized so that, when he died, Mum would have as little stress as possible about all that side of things. And when the time came, we were all incredibly thankful for his pragmatism in this area.

The second effect was to make me and my siblings realise just how mortal our parents were, and that you don’t always get the chance tomorrow to say what you wished you had said today. After my father’s second operation, I think we valued his — and Mom’s — time on earth just a little more than we had before. We did say the things we wanted to say to him, we got closer, more affectionate, more attentive about visiting and calling regularly. We made the best of the times we had with him. And when he did finally go (and likewise Mom, a few years later) there was the inevitable sadness and grief, but there was not the regret of things not said or done.

All these thoughts and feelings were brought sharply to the surface last year when a local marketing company posted a video titled ‘Tell Them Now’. It was promoted as a heart-warming Fathers’ Day tribute, an emotion-laden portrayal of adult children opening up to their fathers, and it quickly gained traction online. You can watch it here.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aSnKNXuw5TE

Given the framing, I expected situations in which children honestly express their true feelings for their fathers, on camera, and possibly for the first time, generating outpourings of honest emotion. Tell him how you really feel about him. Tell him what you never expressed before. Tell him, now.

But no. In the video, the children — mostly millennials, I’d guess — face their fathers and ask them: ‘Dad, what about me makes you proud?’

Pause for deep breath.

It is, perhaps, a sign of the changing times, of how different my generation’s values are from those who came after. Perhaps it’s the natural consequence of our self-obsessed culture. Or maybe it’s just the millennial mindset. But really… let’s celebrate Fathers’ Day by asking: “Dad, tell me what you like best about me.”

Just to recap: a majority of boomer-age people say the thing they most regretted as they approached old age was ‘unresolved issues with parents, who were now deceased’. If you are of a certain age, with parents still alive, think on this. What would you want to say to them the day before they died? What would you want them to know above all else? Then take that, and tell them. Don’t become one of those who buried their parents with words left unsaid, with trespasses unforgiven, with love unexpressed. If you love and value your parents, don’t wait until the ‘day’. Tell them. Tell them now.

(And, yes, I know it’s complicated, all relationships are. Don’t let that impede you.)

And if you are of the millennial generation portrayed in the video, a couple of words of advice: by all means tell them, and tell them now; you never know how much time you have. But please don’t let it be a version of “But enough about me — let’s talk about you. What do you think of me?” Your folks deserve better.

More at joesays.ca.