My dad must really know his daughter. For Christmas he transferred all the home videos from when I was in college to a disc format. He was able to do this at Walmart.
To say that I was speechless and cried immediately would be an understatement. I think that was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.
When you are living your life in the present, you know that you love the people who you are sharing your life with to the depths of your heart. But you are living your life in the now and may miss the many nuances of your family that you hold dear to the most. But looking at those videos that night and hearing the voices and laughter of those who are gone was so sweet and heartbreaking at the same time. I didn’t say much on the videos actually. I kind of stayed away from the lens.
The things I noticed immediately were:
My hair was NASTY. Seriously no one should ever get a perm, spike their bangs and spray them with aqua net. Never. Ever. Ever. The last two years of college my hair became normal again. Thank you.
My clothes were not what I remembered them to be. That is a good thing I have limited memory. Lord. Scary, but at least I thought I looked good.
My Dad, who was always behind the camera, has such a sarcastic sense of humor. P and I were laughing at his voice overs. At some points we were laughing so hard we were crying. Giving Christmas presents to our Italian Aunties was one of the best vignettes. They couldn’t hear so we always had to shout. When he mentioned Playgirl and the Bible in the same sentence I thought they were going to stop what they were doing and pray for his soul. But it was all to get them to giggle and have a good time.
I really don’t look like that anymore, but my voice is the same. Case in point- when my son S asked, “Mom, why does that girl with the wig on have your voice?” I had to stop for a moment. See- the hair was not good.
But of all the things I noticed the most was that we all had a good time. The holidays were as I remember them. Jaju, my Irish grandfather, had the most gracious smile. To say that I miss him every single day would be an understatement. My son has his name. I loved his hearty laugh. Now I can hear it anytime I want, and so can my children.