Dad never talked about his past. But once a year, the day after Christmas, he would have 2 fingers of good scotch, talk about his childhood, then cry for about 2 minutes. That was that.
Dad never bought anything for himself but he would always read the junk mail sale flyers that came to the house. He drank his coffee and never said a word except one time he mumbled “guns are on sale.” That was that.
Dad never talked politics except for once after seeing some liberal’s campaign commercial. “Their fetishization of the middle class implies the existence of a permanent lower class, and they’re ok with that.” That was that.