Our “Lasts.”

Playing Tag

My kids were at a park this past week, playing tag with a bunch of other kids they had never met before.
But this was like… a legit, intense game of tag.

Every kid carried this look of determination on their faces as they were fleeing or pursuing each other in the hopes of tagging or not getting tagged. Those same faces shift to elation or disappointment with the contact of the pursuant’s hand on the pursued.

A friend of mine and his wife came over and their kids joined the fun, and as we were chatting about life… a thought came to me.
“Andy, when was the last time you played tag? But, like… for real. Trying your hardest to tag or not get tagged?”

We both thought about it for a bit and we had no way of knowing when that was.
Were we 10? 12? 16? 30?

My guess is that my answer is closer to the 12-16 range, and we’ll never really know… but that moment does exist somewhere in time!
There was a “last time” that I seriously played tag.
And… I still have the power to change that date.
Anyone want to play?

I went on with my life, not thinking too much more of my tag ambitions… it until last Wednesday…

Shower Thoughts

So, there I am… in the shower – and before you get too nervous about where this is headed – that’s as graphic as I’ll get about the general setting. It’s important though, because the shower is a place where my mind just kind of relaxes through all the mayhem that is life.

The fact that the day is a Wednesday is also important because every Wednesday, I go to lunch with my dad.
It’s like clockwork, and something we’ve been doing for the past 15 years.

After this particular shower I was headed to lunch with him and, for whatever reason, my thoughts connected my lunch with my dad to that “last time playing tag” idea from earlier, and I realized… There is going to be a “last time” that I get to go to lunch with my dad.

This thought… sent me into a spiral.

In this shower, as these “last time” thoughts are circling in my head, I just started crying.
I wasn’t sobbing.
It wasn’t anything uncontrollable and I don’t know that it was even sad.
The tears just came, and, with the water from the shower pouring down my face, had someone been creepily watching me during this shower, they would’ve never known that I was crying.

An onslaught of emotions got me thinking about several routines in my life that will have… or have had… a “last time.”

My Dad

I shared the lunch routine we have, but we have another.

Every time I call my dad, the beginning of the conversation is always the same.

I start with, “David.”
Now, I started calling him by his first name as a joke a long time ago and now… we keep it going.
For those wondering, it’s not a sign of disrespect at this point

Him: Erik.
Me: Did I wake you up?
Him: Some version of, “I’ve already got a full-day’s work in before you even think of waking up.”
Us: Haha
Conversation continues about why we originally called.

I don’t know when, and I don’t want it to be soon, but there will be a time where we will have our last phone call.
And… that day is closer now than it was when I started typing this message.

My Mom

My pet name from my mom was “Punkin.”
The phone call from her would always start, “Hi Punkin!”
Since she passed, I haven’t heard those words, and, unfortunately, never will again.

Ever since I was little, I would tell her I love her and she’d respond with, “I love you more.” At which point, I would pull out the trump card with, “I love you the most!”

She’d respond with, “Nope. That will never be true.”

As a parent, I now understand that she was right.

About a year before she passed, she gave me a little craft that hangs on the wall of our living room that says, “Love You More…”
And, the back, she signed it, “Punkin – I will always love you more! Mom”

My Wife

Caitlin was my high school crush.
I never had the guts to talk to her while in high school, but later in life, I was able to trick her into dating and subsequently marrying me.

I wrote a bit more about that experience in a previous newsletter:

https://theretirementnerds.com/…/december-2024-the…/

We have a bedtime ritual, and I don’t even know how or why it started… it just… did.
Every night, whether we are still tired or sad or angry… we do this same thing.

I give her 5 quick kisses on her lips.
1 kiss on her nose.
1 on her forehead.
5 more on the lips, followed by, “You sleep good muchacho…”
3 kisses on the lips, “Remember I love you the most,”
5 more kisses on the lips, another on the nose, one on her cheek, and 5-10 more on the lips.

After the avalanche of 27-40 kisses, she says, “No way, Jose.”

There’s the age-old wisdom that says something like, “never go to bed in an argument with your spouse.”
Now that I think about it, basically, every night of our entire marriage ends with an argument.

And, true to the theme here…
There will be a last time she and I do this bedtime ritual.
Whether because of illness, me losing my mind, her realizing she could do better than me, or death… there will be… a last time.

My hope is that science figures out a way for us to live forever and that day never comes.
I’ll hold to that hope, but my mind understands, that again… that inevitable day is closer now than it has ever been before.

My Kids

My kids and I have two daily routines when school is in session.

The first is a play on the I love you more game.

They quickly figured out the “I love you the most” trick, so I was able to beat that one with, “I love you the most, I said it first.”
Because… with kids, whoever called it first, wins.

We had to establish ground rules so they didn’t come barging into our bedroom too early in the morning… so after 7:00 AM, we are all allowed to say it, and whoever says it first, wins that day.

Same rules apply later at 8:30 PM, to see who wins the night.
So, twice a day, we all race to say this to each other first.
I usually win, but every once in a while, they get me, so I have to change the rules for that day to somehow make it so I still win.

They will move on.
There will come a time where they will no longer want to play.
They will be too cool or too mature or any number of possible reasons will lead to there being a last time they want to say this.

The second routine is when I drop them off to school.

Every day, I give them a big squeeze hug, and I ask three questions:
Will you be nice?
Will you be helpful?
Will you do your best?
Followed by, “I love you so much.”

I wonder if I’ll recognize the last time I get to do this one.

Firsts vs Lasts

Once we are old enough to remember things, I think it’s easier for us to remember our firsts rather than our lasts.
Our first kiss.
Our first concert.
Our first job or car or broken bone.
These were novel experiences that changed our lives moving forward.

But our lasts… we never really know when they are coming.
The last time we ran at a full sprint.
The last time we ate Ramen noodles.
The last time we will fly in an airplane.
The last time we picked our child up and held him or her in our arms.
The last time we were picked up by our mom or dad.
The last time we get to hug our mom, or our friends, or our kids.

I won’t go deep into this, but Charlie Kirk was assassinated about 30 minutes from where I live.
I abhor violence.
This was awful. Period.

I felt horror and sadness learning that another son, husband, and father was killed in that way, and my mind went to these thoughts about “lasts.”

His last event.
His last words.
His last moments with his family.
His last moments of life, now permanently public.

These “lasts” happen every. single. day.
Some are horrific and tragic.
Some are quiet and peaceful.
Some lasts… like my last game of tag… aren’t even noticed or acknowledged.
Whispers in time that nobody heard or recognized in the moment.

I get to interact with tens of thousands of people a year at this point, and with this many people, and the demographic of people I try to help, I experience many last phone calls or emails with people who I never get to interact with again because they passed away.

People ask what I do for a living and I say I’m a YouTuber who tries to help people with Medicare.
Most who hear this don’t know what that means.
I don’t know that my wife fully knows what that means.

But it has become much more than just making videos or taking phone calls or answering emails about Medicare – because of people like you who read this, or who I’m lucky enough to interact with, or those who watch the videos and comment on YouTube… because I know so many of you now by name (or YouTube username).

I hear your stories.
I hear about your families.
I hear about your successes and your struggles and it is so wonderful and exhilarating and meaningful to me.

But… there are times… when it is overwhelmingly heavy… acknowledging our “lasts.”

This Month

My challenge to you is to take time this month and consider some of the more meaningful lasts in your life.
Embrace and remember those that you can’t get back.
Recognize that you have the ability and power to shape how some of them will happen moving forward.
Take the steps to make a difference with the ones you still have time to change.

If you have relationships that have been soured, or people you left on less-than-solid terms, reach out to them, and influence the lasts in your life where you can.

Moving forward, as you interact with people with whom you never think will be out of your life, treat those precious moments for what they are – and don’t let your last moments go by unnoticed.