On Being Neglectful

"Dad?" she said, turning to face him.

"Yes," he said; he always replied to direct questions, but usually with the fewest possible words.

"Dr. Kuroda sent us an email. Did you get it yet?"

"No."

"Well," continued Caitlin, "he's got new software he wants us to download into my implant tonight." She was pretty sure she could manage it on her own, but -- "Will you help me?"

"Yes," he said. And then a gift, a bonus: "Sure."

Excerpt from WWW: Wake
by Robert J. Sawyer

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The passage above makes me think of myself, and how I must often seem towards others. I worry about being too neglectful, and about seeming too cold. I worry that I give too little -- what with my short supply of words -- and that it translates into a lack of affection; I worry about this especially when it comes to the ones I care about most.

I wish never to neglect those that I love. Although my words may come sparingly, my feelings are profuse. Hopefully they see that I care intensely.