WHAT MY DAD TOLD ME IN THE CAR ABOUT GRANDPA
The following photos were captured today, 8/20/26, in the Fashion District by Mitchell Royel. While taking in the vibrant energy of the area, we're listening to "A Long Walk" and "It's Love" by Jill Scott, perfectly complementing the creative and soulful atmosphere.
This content is not affiliated with the NBA or the Los Angeles Lakers in any shape or form. The reflections shared here are purely inspired by personal nostalgia and admiration for the golden eras of basketball.
Dear Everyone,
My dad and I had a long talk in the car the other day. We were driving home from the golf course, and the whole ride was about Grandpa. So I decided to write it all down, because I think I figured something out. It's about being tough, and getting older, and love. And a little bit about basketball.
You should know some things about my Grandpa. He never let me win at anything. Not checkers, not putting, not even the little claw machine at the diner. He played hardball with everybody, even the mailman.
He walked the golf course like he was late for something. He wore his collar up and his belt just right. And he had this look, the kind that said, "Don't try me, kiddo." I loved that look. It felt safe.
Lately, though, Grandpa's been different. He whistles now. He held the door for a lady at the pro shop and said "after you" like it was nothing. He even bought a new golf shirt, soft green, with a little stitch on the sleeve.
I got kind of worried. When somebody that tough goes soft, you notice. So I asked my dad if Grandpa was okay.
My dad kept his eyes on the road for a second. Then he said, real gentle, "Buddy, Grandpa's coming out of a drought."
I thought he meant we needed rain.
Dad laughed and shook his head. He said Grandpa had been on his own for almost ten years. And now he'd met somebody special. He told me that love, when it's the right kind, and it shows up after a long wait, brings out a whole different side of a person. Even a tough one. Especially a tough one.
"It's called the honeymoon phase," Dad said. "It doesn't stick around forever, but while it's here, you just let it be beautiful."
Then Dad grinned, the big one, and said, "You know, it's not many women who are down for a season pass at the NBA. Grandpa found one. So let him do his thing for now."
I laughed so hard I snorted. I pictured Grandpa in the good seats, in his new shirt, cheering like a little kid. And I thought, maybe being tough your whole life just means you were saving up all that softness for exactly the right moment.
So here's my letter, and here's what I figured out. Being tough is fine. But letting yourself go soft when it counts, that takes something too.
If you know a Grandpa, or you happen to be one, let him do his thing. Wear the good shirt. Hold the door. Cheer loud. The best rounds show up later than you think.
Let Grandpa be happy. And go easy on yourself, too.
With love (and a little laughing),
A Grandson Who Was Paying Attention
Golden threads of history weave through the night,
From the roaring '60s to Showtime's delight.
A hardwood stage for triumphs to unfold,
The Forum aglow, stories untold.
Towering moments, a force to confide,
Graceful movements, time seemed to glide.
Silent strength and sky-high grace,
Echoes of greatness still fill this space.
Purple and gold beneath the bright lights,
Unity forged in championship fights.
The crowd’s electric, their hearts beat as one,
Every season a saga, battles hard-won.
Though time marches on and eras will pass,
The memories linger, like shadows on glass.
For those golden days and their radiant spark,
A legacy lives, engraved in our hearts.
EPILOGUE:
Life has a funny way of teaching us about the people we love, doesn’t it? Grandparents, especially, are like chapters in a book that keep surprising us as we grow. Sometimes, they start out as the heroes in our lives—tough, determined, and unwavering. Then, as time progresses, they become something softer, warmer, and just as wonderful in a whole new way.
When we talk to children about the shifts and phases of their grandparents, we can use stories like this one to remind them that love—and life—have seasons. Grandparents aren’t just aging; they’re evolving. The steely strength they had when they carried the world on their shoulders makes room for the kind of gentleness that the years taught them was important, too. It’s a gift. And when children see their grandparents through these phases, they learn something deeper about kindness, love, and what it means to soften with grace.
For the little ones, explain it in simple terms, like a garden changing through the seasons. “Grandpa was once like a tall oak tree, strong and sturdy, and now he’s more like the flowers around it—blooming with color and heart.” For older kids, talk about how life isn’t about staying one way forever; it’s about knowing when to put heads down and push through and when to lift hearts up and savor the moment.
The love we see in our elders, whether it’s swagger on the golf course or softness at the pro shop door, teaches us that every phase has a purpose. That every moment, even the unexpected ones, deserves to be embraced.
And as for Grandpa? He’s not just in a honeymoon phase—he’s showing you that life is worth falling in love with at every age.