Ask them....
Before the opportunity to hear their answers disappears forever.
“This is the hardest season of my life. You have all of these experiences and then you get put to the side. People think because I’m old that I don’t have anything to contribute anymore, but I have so much I could share.”
— Velma Hughes
Grandma Hughes said this to me last summer.
She passed away last week on Mother’s Day.
She was my last living grandparent.
I keep thinking about what she said.
Honestly, I’m feeling a lot of regret.
Did I really take full advantage of all that experience?
I know I won the grandparent lottery.
Each of my grandparents married the love of their life and was even more in love at the end than the beginning.
They built beautiful lives.
Quietly. Consistently. Faithfully.
They set a standard I can only hope to approach.

And yet, I don’t think I truly saw them the way they deserved to be seen.
I could have asked more questions.
I could have made more time.
I could have listened more carefully.
They lived lives worth studying.
After several days of thinking about everything I wish I had done differently, I finally stopped and asked myself something else:
Ok. What did you learn from them?
How are you better because they were here?
A few things came to mind….
Keep moving
After dinner most nights, Grandma and Grandpa Hughes would head out to the driveway to play basketball with my brother and me.
Meanwhile, Grandma and Grandpa Aldous were out in the yard and garden constantly—even into their final years. I can still picture Grandpa Aldous wearing knee pads at sunrise pulling weeds.
None of them stopped moving.
And every single one of them believed that movement was deeply connected to both the length and quality of their lives.
Do everything together
This was the advice Grandma and Grandpa Aldous gave Leah and me at our wedding reception:
“Do everything together.”
And they actually lived it.
Running errands? Together.
Yard work? Together.
Cooking? Together.
Watching mystery shows? Together.
Making dried fruit? Together.
I sometimes wondered if they coordinated bathroom schedules.
People talk a lot about independence, space, and boundaries.
And those things matter.
But watching them made me wonder if one of the greatest life hacks is simply finding someone you genuinely want to do life with—and who feels the exact same way about you.
Document the details
Years ago, I read one of Grandpa Aldous’s journal entries describing a terrible stomach bug in extraordinary detail.
I learned a lot about Grandpa from that entry.
He documented everything.
He filled journal after journal.
I edited several of their travel videos over the years and let me tell you something:
You have not truly experienced Machu Picchu until you’ve watched a six-hour handheld camera tour narrated by Grandpa Aldous.
He paid attention to life.
He wanted to remember it.
And because he did, now we get to remember it too.
Be prepared
Both sets of grandparents believed in food storage and preparation. They wanted to be ready for hard times.
But the best example of preparation came from Grandma Hughes.
One day I caught her lifting tiny dumbbells and I started joking with her about how light they were.
What I didn’t understand at the time was this:
Grandpa had Alzheimer’s.
And Grandma knew there would likely come a day when he wouldn’t be able to carry what he once could and do all of the things he once did.
So she started preparing herself physically to carry more.
I’ve thought about that moment all week.
What love.
What quiet devotion.
What strength.
I wrote this week’s question in the past tense because none of my grandparents are still here.
But I want to flip the question around for you and me moving forward:
Look at the people still in your life right now.
Really look at them.
See them while you still can.
And ask yourself:
What can I still learn from them?
Because the people you love are carrying entire libraries of experience, wisdom, stories, mistakes, sacrifices, and lessons inside them.
And one day, those libraries close.
Call your grandparents.
Call your parents.
Ask better questions.
Stay longer.
Listen more carefully.
You do not want to stand where I’m standing right now wondering:
What else could I have learned from them?
Keep Asking,
Kyle




Beautiful!
Great Reminder!