Emmett’s latest trick is to shake his head. It is, of course, mostly just a new muscular experiment and not a reaction to anything we’re saying or doing. I think. Who knows what’s going on in that crafty little mind of his? But it sure is cute (natch; what else am I going to say, right?), and we like to pretend we’re actually having nascent conversations with him.
In other news, last night my mom shared with us a folder once belonging to my grandmother that contained a number of letters my mom had written to her parents between 1972 and 1975. It’s great stuff. I hope to get them scanned for archiving soon. Glancing at some of the writing last night, it was amazing how I could feel my mind stretching to bring forth memories of the events I saw described before me. Dancing to Stevie Wonder with my mom and brother in our living room; throwing glass bottles at the recycling center in Evanston with my dad; my obsession with little plastic animals (all of which we now have at home, courtesy of my dad). And earlier tidbits I had no hope of retrieving, like the square head I came home from the hospital with (really, I have a photo), or the worry my parents had about the poor hearing in my right ear (which seems fine to me today, but then maybe I’ve just compensated for it by now?).
Most fascinating, though, was simply seeing how my mom presented the details of our daily lives to the outside world. Meals we had. My brother’s early efforts at speech. Our play dates. Exactly the same details Leah and I now share on this blog, albeit for a wider audience (but not much wider!). Reading these letters also helped answer a question I’ve long had about the point of my own efforts to record the minutia of our lives, which is, “Will Ava and Emmett ever care?” Maybe they won’t. But if they do, I’ll be thrilled if they someday have the same experience I had last night of wondering over the memories of a life that — with each passing year — comes to exist more and more only on the yellowed pages stacked neatly in a legal envelope in our safe deposit box.