For as long as I can remember, we’ve kept a notebook on the kitchen counter. Always right there, in our line of sight, as we walk in the back door. These notebooks have tracked the goings-on in our family and communicated the rhythm of our daily lives. They capture, usually in messy handwriting, to-dos (put clothes in dryer, take out the garbage, water the plants), whereabouts (getting my hair cut, yoga, on my bike), general information (it’s hot outside!), reminders (it’s my birthday today!), sentiments and encouraging words (enjoy your day!), and lots of lists (grocery, cards to send, appointments to make).
Somehow I had the sense to keep these notebooks.
Out in the canoes, then to Grandma and Grandpa’s
Lunch is by your shoes. Run fast. See you there!
The roast stays in the oven until 8pm. Don’t open the lid.
When the kids were little, I admired the scrapbooks and photo albums my friends created. I appreciated the time and attention they devoted to documenting their family events. I tried but wasn’t successful at doing the same, and my attempts at keeping a journal never lasted more than a day or two. I used to think that it was through these acts—contemplative journal writing and intentional scrapbooking—that dreams, aspirations, and memories were best recorded and preserved.
What’s the difference between chicken broth and chicken stock?
Out learning (hopefully) to rollerbade
I sent in my job application!
Yet experience tells me something different. One particular episode of This American Life, a weekly public radio program hosted by Ira Glass, explores the concept of a captain’s log, which is described as “a simple thing: the date, the time, maybe the weather—and the current status of a long journey.” These notebooks are my captain’s log.
You need to wash your track uniform
Can I use the car tonight?
Have a great day. I love you so much!
Our family history is right here in these notebooks. At first glance, nothing particularly insightful is written in them, and yet, in re-reading them, I see that, day by day, life came together and our family grew and evolved. The handwriting changes, the topics vary, the urgency adjusts, the lightness and heaviness of days come through, and the people writing the notes develop and age.
These notes, written by our hands in real time and meant for only us, tell the story of our family. By letting one another know where we are, what we are doing, and what we need from each other, we bonded as a family. The notebooks chronicle what was really happening in our lives, capturing moments that usually go unrecorded. As my daughter says, they aren’t “the highlight reel.” They reflect not the significant or exciting life events but the daily progress of our lives and, significantly, life’s reality.
Do you have an unusual way to record your family memories? How do you decide what to keep?
[Photography by Moon Lake Multimedia. All rights reserved.]
Margie
Beautiful! I love that you have saved your family’s history in such a unique format. Precious to me are my dad’s small, black, leather-bound notebooks in which he recorded every book he read as an adult, starting around 1939 when he enlisted in the Navy, up until his death in 1979. He wrote the name and author of each book, the number of pages, and the date he read it. He was a prolific reader and would occasionally start reading a book that felt familiar so he’d look it up in his notebook and, sure enough, he’d discover that he already read it. The notebooks are a small window into my dad’s reading tastes and a reminder of one of the ways he liked to spend his free time.
Susan
What a beautiful story about your dad and his notebooks! It’s remarkable he continued recording his readings for so many years, and how wonderful he found so much contentment in reading. I bet to this day you can picture him happily with a book in his hand.
Joan
I think we keep items that are special to you. I have my mom’s cookbooks and my husband’s fishing notebook. I’ve kept my children’s cards they made when they were young. No one would want these things but me.
Susan
I loved your comment ‘no one would want these things but me’. It’s so true isn’t it, that there are things we cherish that others would never take a second glance at. Homemade cards from our children are truly special. And how wonderful that you have your mom’s cookbooks and your husband’s fishing notebook to treasure. They seem to be in good hands.
Mary
I love that you have kept these notebooks over the years. What a treasure. I have kept some of my mom’s handwritten recipe cards and especially love when she would write a little comment about the recipe itself or when she would note:”v.g.” This means it was very good!! And I have kept those precious handmade cards from my kids.
Susan
Handwritten recipes are the best – especially ones with commentary! I smiled at your description of your mom’s ‘v.g.’ notation, that is pretty sweet. Given how you appreciate your mom’s recipe cards now, just think of how much your kids might appreciate them as they get older.