The babes

Saturday, February 4, 1939
35th Day–330 Days to Follow

The babes had their music lessons.

Had a big rain, no work for Shorty today. Got some coal from the garage attic. Cold & rainy.

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Saturday, February 4, 2012

I love how she calls her two youngest children “the babes.”

It’s funny to think of my grandfather, a somewhat intimidating — but not at all unloving — man most of the time I knew him, as a young boy, taking music lessons that would someday eventually lead to his meeting my grandmother. We’ve all heard it, and hear it again nearly every time Debussy is heard in a movie soundtrack or in the middle of a store’s muzak station. How the dark-haired girl rounded the corner at church camp to see the red-haired boy gracefully make his way through Clair De Lune. How she had watched this irreverent boy riding in a car with his pastor, unabashedly smoking the whole way to and from camp. And, later, the snap of the photographer’s shutter that would capture the tea-length white lace dressed and grey suited couple laughing over the humble wedding cake the bride herself made, a cost-cutting decision that pained her mother.

How music–something likely thought of as a periphery expense, especially during the downtrodden 30s–and my great-grandparents’ decision to include it in their childrens’ education, ultimately led to everything I know of family.


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