6 days Ago By By JOSH HAVARD/The Lufkin Daily News
I’m not usually one that puts my foot in my mouth on a regular basis. Being what I consider a calm and rational person, I try to think before I speak, which in my line of work is pretty important. Sometimes I still can’t get out of my own way.
Fortunately I’ve got a few pretty understanding friends and family with a good (and maybe morbid) sense of humor that let me off the hook. Maybe I’m just getting older, but I’ve already had to have my foot surgically removed from my mouth three times within the last few months. I’ll start with a trip to the hospital to see my dad.
When it comes to parents, I was blessed with two of the best. My dad just happens to be one of the toughest guys I know. That toughness has been tested in the first few months of 2025.
Shortly after the new year, he had a knee replacement, his second in the last few years. Amazingly he was coming off that one good enough until landing in the hospital after a particularly excruciating night. As it turns out, he would have to have his gallbladder removed.
If that weren’t bad enough, he had to be laid up in the hospital for almost a week in order to have the surgery safely done due to the pain medication he was on for his knee. Either would have me not wanting to move. He had both.
So being the good son I think I am, I came up to the hospital to offer my well wishes. I had just walked in the door when I offered up my familiar four-word greeting. “So how’s it going?” That’s not exactly the sympathetic greeting a son should be giving his dad who may be in the most pain he has ever experienced.
“I’ve been better,” were the three words he got out through the pain. Then three words crossed my mind for having the audacity to mutter those words. “No (expletive), Sherlock.
” Fortunately — or I guess, unfortunately — he was pretty out of it, and my mom is a retired nurse who has heard it all. I think they understood my intentions were in the right place even if my words weren’t. You’d think I would have learned my lesson.
You would be wrong. David Olszewski (known by pretty much all of us as O ski) was one of the Aggies I mentioned in a couple of columns about my trip to Texas A&M with my daughter. For those who didn’t read those, I had written a column saying they were probably laughing at me since I was a Longhorn fan right beside Kyle Field.
It wasn’t long before I got a package delivered with a shirt that said “Aggie Dad” on the front. The back had the message “the best fathers raise Aggie daughters.” It was a masterpiece of a gift from my high school and college friends.
It wasn’t long after that I got an email from Nathan, another one of the culprits in the gift. We caught up a little before he let me know O ski had recently broken a hip in an accident. Being a 44-year-old, I knew it was a little early for something like that.
But O ski has always had a way of laughing his way through pretty much anything. It wasn’t long after, while I was scrolling social media, that I came across the news that the older O ski, my friend’s dad, had died. Talk about a rough month.
I didn’t know his dad very well, although our paths crossed plenty when O ski and I were immature high schoolers before becoming immature college kids. I wanted to show my support, so I made it over to the funeral on a Wednesday morning. I saw him read his dad’s obituary while adding his humor in a way that only he could.
I didn’t get a chance to catch up with him right after. (OK. I admit it.
I stood awkwardly in the parking lot for a couple of minutes before delivering lunches to my daughters.) It was a few hours later that I got a text from O ski. I’ll leave out all the personal details, but he basically thanked me for coming and asked if I wanted to catch up later.
Of course I did. That went without saying. But here’s where we can get to some more awkwardness.
I ended up being a couple minutes late, meaning he was at the restaurant before I got there. So as I walk up, he has a set of crutches beside him that are impossible to miss. I’d even seen him use them to get to the stage earlier.
So as I walk up to see my grieving friend who was also in considerable pain, the familiar four words left my mouth almost before I could even stop them. “So, how’s it goi ..
. ” I said before stopping myself before the last letter or two of my usual greeting to people. It was sort of the equivalent of the time when Ralphie murmured the line in “A Christmas Story.
” You know, the one about “fudge” before realizing it was too late. Of course, I knew how it was going. The man broke his hip not long ago.
A few weeks later, he got the news that his dad had died. Let’s just say I had a pretty good idea about how his day and week were going without even asking. I started to try to correct myself before realizing my best strategy may be to go ahead and point out my own stupidity.
“Don’t answer that. I’ve got a pretty good idea. Now that’s what makes me such a great journalist.
Me asking the tough questions.” Fortunately, O ski didn’t leave me awkwardly hanging for too long. He’s got a pretty warped sense of humor that far surpasses mine.
“Well, you know I broke my hip. But this news really helped that out. On the bright side, this might be one of the few times I can’t honestly say it could be worse.
” And I went with the old familiar line I’d heard before. “Other than that, how was the play, Mrs. Lincoln?” In that moment, it didn’t seem like it had been years since we had seen each other.
We were eventually joined by Micah, an ex-Lufkin Daily News co-worker who happens to be O ski’s brother-in-law. We sat there and talked for the next few hours. A pair of immature teenagers turned college kids were now a pair of 40-ish-year-old immature dads.
Hopefully after a few hours of laughs, O ski was doing a little better than when we first started. My lessons don’t end there. This work week started with a conversation with Lance, a phenomenally talented co-worker who has recently lost a couple of dear family members.
He had let me know he was attending a memorial service over the weekend and even reminded me of that in a text Sunday afternoon. So as he walked into my office Monday morning, I absolutely knew what I shouldn’t have asked. I had every intention of being more thoughtful with my words.
But apparently intentions don’t get me anywhere. “How’s it ..
. ” This time I caught myself even earlier than the last time. Fortunately, Lance likes to laugh and let me off the hook just about as quickly as either my dad or O ski.
We had a few laughs about it while I pointed out my recent history with words. It didn’t stop me from wondering how many times it would take me to learn my lesson. I promise I usually am a pretty thoughtful person, even if I don’t show it all the time.
So if I I see you on your best or your worst day, my natural instincts will probably kick in. “So, how’s it going?” Feel free to share a laugh or spend the next hour telling me exactly how your day is going. Maybe that would finally teach me my lesson.
Unfortunately, it probably won’t..
