Feb.
19, 2000 - Saturday
We played our little vocal game this morning as I
was changing Harry. It's hard to know for sure, we've played so often over the
last couple weeks, but I think Harry started this time. Even if I did, he took
no time joining in. He usually needs to work up to it, but today, as
with his eyes on Thurs, Harry seemed to be finding new control over his
voice. What blossomed was a far more consistent stream of coos and gahs than
times before when he'd seem to prepare each effort. What's more, with a full
night's sleep and replenishment and the fine acoustics of a bathroom, Harry
hit decibel levels that made me wonder for the briefest of moments why I was
teaching our boy this particular talent and what the ramifications over the
coming months might be. But, the purity of Harry's tones and delight on his
face quickly negated any such apprehensions and I enjoyed some of the happiest
noises I can imagine.
Of course, the day's main event was the 60th birthday celebration of Harry's
maternal grandfather and not even adorable Harry could steal the show from Grandpa.
3-4 dozen people gathered to mark the milestone and had a party rich with fine
desserts (including off-the-vine fresh raspberries and strawberries, strawberries
dipped in chocolate, and chocolate cake with white chocolate curls as frosting
and raspberry sauce), loud music and dancing that belied a sexagenarian, and
many warm moments of reflection. With the encouragement of Grandpa's wife, many
guests - including Harry's mother who told a story from her youth of her father's
utilitarian fashion sense - got up to say a few words about how Harry's grandfather
had affected their lives. Some offered anecdotes, some gave sincere thanks,
and all delighted in his kindness, patience, and gentle but firm presence in
the face of both adversity and ambivalence.
The best of all things for me is that Harry's mother shares many of her father's
traits. When I range wildly from hyperactivity to calm, from strong opinions
to strong self-consciousness, from objectivity to artistic temperament, Harry's
mother always keeps me from getting too far afield or caught up in my own wallows,
yet remains full of fun, love, and kindness.
So far, Harry is his mother's boy, and thus, his grandfather's as well. Reports
suggest that I wasn't a bad baby myself, but Harry's calm, good nature is of
his mother. Like any father, there are things I hope to share with Harry. I
hope we play ball together and he'll like some of the same music and play an
instrument. But, as I think of Harry growing up and the person I hope he will
be, I look to those things which he will draw from his grandfather as his foundation
- well, except perhaps his utilitarian fashion sense.
As the party wound down and the guests departed, I came over to where Harry's
was sitting with his Uncle (on right with Grandpa) and as soon as he saw me
- yes, Harry recognized his dad as vocal coach - he started our game. Even more
animated than this morning, Harry talked and sang and put on a show for his
grandfather. Maybe he was a little shy with all the people around, but he still
had something to add to the party.
