My dad was never much of a talker. When I was little, he’d take me fishing, and sometimes we would go the whole morning without saying ten words to each other.
I used to think he was just a quiet man.
Now that I’m older, I realize those mornings were some of the closest moments we ever shared.
Listening to the wind in the trees, watching the water, just being there together.
The reflections about connection brought those memories back. I guess sometimes love doesn’t need words.