Hey Old Man

Published on August 2, 2026

· 4 min read

Personal #colombia #covid #family #grief #loss #memory

Hey old man,

Sorry it took this long to get around to writing this. I’d like to say it was because life was going great the last six years. Busy with many adventures with Nat and Tommie, a few rugrats to chase after. Sadly the reason is much different. There were so many times I wanted to pick up the phone to share with you the crazy things I have seen and experienced here in Colombia. So many times I wanted to call you and ask for your advice as my marriage was falling apart, as I was losing myself. You were the closest thing I had to a father and the man I respected enough to come to when shit got hard.

I thought back to the day you called me to your home after the fire. You told me I could move in with you and Jill, but I had to put this “silly coding” thing behind me. You’d get me a job working in a shop doing inventory work. I think deep down you expected the answer I gave you as I walked out with tears in my eyes. Nine months later when I came back to Kansas for a friend’s wedding as a Software Developer. You were there waiting for me at the airport with that shit-eating grin. You told me how proud of me you were for not giving up. Later that night having a few beers you shared with me that you had been scared you were going to lose me the day I walked out. You were scared that this time the chips were stacked so high against me that I would check out for good.

It’s funny to think about the day before I left for Portland. You and I had breakfast at a diner. You asked me why I never left Kansas earlier. I told you because you were getting older and I wanted to be around when you passed. The look on your face was priceless. Sheer disgust. I remember you telling me that we all die and wasting my life sticking around there waiting for you to die was about the dumbest fucking thing I could do.

I think about that summer I lived with you and Jill while taking summer classes. The impromptu fishing trips. The time we caught nothing and then went picking blackberries instead. I can still taste that blackberry cobbler and homemade ice cream. I remember you telling me about the new cat litter you got for Chancey and how he lost a bunch of weight and his poop no longer stank. I nonchalantly said “what’s the brand I ought to get some of that for my parents?” Never in my life will I forget that laugh.

I remember the first time I saw fear in your eyes. The second triple bypass surgery. You always had jokes and made light of the heart issues. That day was different. Your voice. The look in your eyes. We all were happy you made it off that operating table and I could tell the relief in your face said so were you.

I remember telling the whole family when we got engaged in Italy and you were the only one who didn’t reply. For like four days I am sweating bullets thinking:

Is my grandpa really racist towards hispanics?

Last day in Europe as a pandemic is taking hold and I get a text from you:

Aw shit Code I thought I responded. So happy for you and Nat can’t wait to meet her.

There was that classic Nicholson memory hard at work. Kind of like that “Nicholson Light Switch”! Haha happy to report I inherited both.

Nat and I divorced. A lot happened there. You’d be proud about some things and probably drown my ass in the lake for others. Tommie passed away too. I got a dog. Yeah I know finally right? You would love him. Quite the character. You would be his ice cream buddy for sure. I think that might have been God’s way of telling me you are still around even when you are not.

I miss the stories.
I miss the politics.
I miss the fishing trips.
I miss watching the Jayhawks with you.
I miss the butt dials.
I miss the homemade ice cream.
I miss the man who taught me so much.

Leave some fish for the rest of us, old man.
I love you.