With each passing year, I understand why my father tended to speak less and less. It’s not that he had less to say, but more that he understood that not everything needed a comment. He might have overdone it a little, as I wish I knew how he thought about more things especially now that he’s been gone ten years. At some point, it’s the sum of your conversations with someone, and there won’t be any more.

Sometimes we need to find out things for ourselves, either because we’d have difficulty accepting the words of others or because we value our own experiences more. Sometimes it’d be nice if someone shared something meaningful at the right moment.