In light of my father's illness, my Nana's failing health, my divorce, my decision to find a "day job," and a few other things in my life.... I started musing last night about what we say to people, what our encounters are like, and whether or not we're saying enough or saying too much.
It's more than the overused, "Did I tell them I loved them enough?" lament. Sure, that's an appropriate thought, but there's so much more I wonder about. It's not just about telling someone that I love them but sharing why I love(d) them. What did they inspire me to do? What sorts of passion for my life did they incite within me? Why am I better for knowing them? What about me is so much greater for having them in my life when I did?
Similarly, I wonder if I have ever said too much. Did they need to know, during their time of trouble, that certain events were or were not happening? Did I overthink things or not think enough before speaking? Was I a help or a hindrance? Did I feel one way and they felt another? Did I cross the line or not go far enough?
I have some specifics over which I am debating to write, but I thought I would lay out the rambling thoughts for now.
Anyway, thanks for listening.
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