I am a talker. If you’re a fan of the movie Charlotte’s Web you might remember the song “I can talk” when Wilbur the pig starts talking, and that is basically a family trait. Me, my dad, my mom, and Johnny. We like to talk. We are the loud family. We didn’t and don’t have family game nights we can just talk and talk and talk.
I am aware however that my enthusiasm for sharing gets in the way of giving others space to talk. And I know it is rude, and I try to contain it. And from what little I have heard about the Scientology, they would hate to hear me discuss and talk and talk without thinking. After events lately I go back over what has been said and wish I had said less, been quieter, and generally let others take the lead.
However, I often get frustrated when I ask a person a question and I get a two word response back. I want to hear paragraphs. Tell me a story, give me the full breakdown of what happened, how you felt, what you wanted, and what you think will happen now.
My Grandpa’s official funeral (vs the private one we had back in July) was on Wednesday. And in the afternoon I was able to go for a walk with my aunt and my cousin. We talked the housing market, the wedding industry, our family traditions, and proper etiquette. We didn’t agree on everything, but dang was it nice to be together and walking and discussing.
Maybe someday I will learn to think first, speak second. Or I’ll remember that I have two ears and only one mouth. But until then, I’ll be thankful for the family and friends that I have that don’t mind just talking.