The Echo of Lost Words

I want AI to help me write, not to write for me. Recently I scripted a GitHub action that generates a new Moth-style story prompt for me each day. Here’s one below, and I’ll respond to it today.

Share a story about a conversation that never happened—a moment when important words went unsaid. What held you back, and how did this silence shape your relationships or personal journey? Reflect on the potential impact those lost words might have had and how this experience has influenced your approach to communication and connection.

My maternal grandfather passed away just after I started high school. I knew that people passed away, of course. I knew that I’d pass, at some point. I knew of people who had passed already.

Until this day, though, I hadn’t really considered it.

Most of the things I know about my grandfather come second-hand. A few of them make me happy, a lot of them make me sad, and a couple of them make me laugh, but in a conflicted sort of way.

I barely remember a thing he said to me.

I don’t remember anything I said to him.

What I most remember is sitting on the ground next to him whilst he relaxed in “his” chair. I remember the bottle of cream soda he’d keep next to him, and how he’d let me sneak as much as I wanted to. I remember his rough voice and strong vocal fry from decades of smoking, and his laugh of the type that people referred to as a “dirty laugh”.

Now that I’m older, I have so many questions I want to ask him. I want to ask him about his life—the good bits and the bad. I want to ask him about my mother. About growing up when he did. About the places in the world that he most loved. About his love for cream soda.

A cane hung on the wall of his living room, covered in thin metal badges intended for just this purpose. They described the places that he’d visited, and I was enthralled by the idea that someone could have collected so many. I never asked him about any of them.

When I was younger I didn’t think about death. Now that I’m older I find it incredibly difficult to do so. I didn’t really consider that people would simply cease to exist. People that you love.

I didn’t consider that the questions you’re saving up for later might be left unanswered. That all of the things you’re wondering about, you might simply have to wonder about forever.

I didn’t say many words to my grandfather, and he didn’t say all that many to me. We shared a lot of cream soda, though, and I’ll forever try to explore as many places as he had badges for.