I am a talker – something I most certainly did not inherit from my father. I learned early on when Dad spoke you listened. He may have little to say but when he speaks his words are meticulously selected to convey his point, his meaning is clear, his mind is intelligent, his message provokes consideration and his communication is impeccably delivered. As children we could so easily be stopped dead in our tracks with a few select words uttered from our father. Our well-intentioned mother could rant and rave all day without one word infiltrating our hot headed little brains but when Dad told us we were acting like a bunch of wild hyenas or he threatened to tin us and put us in an oil can we admitted defeat and sullenly meandered onto other more appropriate behaviors.
To my adult minded dismay I realize now that when Mom redirected our behavior we found all remote loop holes in her choice of words and adamantly pointed them out spurring our momentum, resulting in rambunctious behavior and ultimate defiance that could unravel the sanity of a well-trained psychologist. I’m afraid that we may all have been willing participants in these ruthless activities that may just send my Mother into dementia as she ages. But when Dad was around he always came to Mom’s defense and temporarily made us realize the error in our ways (using less than 5 words) and we would momentarily set out to make things right.
Why this disparity? I may never know for sure but I’m guessing it has something to do our inherent manipulative nature and Mom’s willingness to divulge the reasons behind the rules, the consequences resulting from our behavior, the lessons learned from our actions, the role we played in our choices, and the emotions that ensued based on our conduct – all logic based analysis that we could ultimately manipulate to our devious benefit. Dad taught us obedience and respect, plain and simple, using very few words, leaving very little room for us to employ our manipulative tactics. They perfected a fine balance raising four unruly girls.
While I may be more inclined to blurt out nearly every thought that forms in my head Riley has most certainly inherited his quiet nature from my Father.
The freshman football coach spent a few minutes reflecting on the strengths of each player at the end of season party – when it came around to Riley it was no surprise he received the award for the man with the fewest words. Riley listens attentively, he nods in acceptance to instructions, he follows directions without an argument and he absorbs constructive criticism without any back talk. The coaches could count his words spoken all season on one hand and what may have seemed like silent defiance in the beginning was quickly recognized for superb self restraint which was demonstrated in his uncanny ability to simply listen and perform – all without any discussion.
These men of few words are not necessarily shy. They are witty, intelligent and well spoken. They also have solid opinions and strong voices. But for the most part they listen, they absorb, they contemplate and then they act accordingly. They simply keep superfluous chit chat at a minimum.
You catch these two in rare mood or a passionate conversation and they will talk like yours truly. They have my full undivided attention during these moments – the conversations are stimulating, their opinions are worth considering, and more often than not I am left with advice or lessons learned that only these men of few words can provide. Despite their age difference these two have more in common than most people realize. They keep our rants in check, they often leave us wondering what’s on their minds and they occasionally have us yearning for more of their simple, albeit brilliant, insight into this complicated world.
When they time is right they will always divulge their secrets – until then the idle chit chat and deep discussions are left up to us girls. We all live up to these roles – none of us ever disappoint… a fine balance perfected by all.
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