Unlikely Words

In preparation for our move, we’re cleaning out the big file cabinet in the basement. Among other finds, including several excruciating pages from my high school diary, was a thick envelope of cards and letters that my parents received when I was born and on my first birthday. As Rachel and I are getting ready to have our first kids, I thought it would be fun to leaf through them. Boy, howdy.

Most of the cards were fairly unremarkable. Some very nice notes from relatives, more than a few using the “address the letter to the baby, telling him how lucky he is to have such great parents” bit, and a handful that are worth remarking.

For instance, two couples, the Helmkamps and the Berkelhammers, independently chose this fantastic card:

That’s quite colorful, you say? Wait until you see this Day-Glo offering:

This postcard, unsigned, amuses me primarily because of the 8-cent Eisenhower stamp.

How many new parents get a note of congratulations from Gerry and Betty Ford? (Probably a lot. Well, fewer now than in 1975.)

Charlayne, below, wins some kind of prize for burying the lede by slipping into the second paragraph of her congratulatory note the news that she and her husband are splitting up.

My personal favorite note of congratulations comes from a woman named “Marcia” at the Greater Paterson Community Mental Health Center, who took the time to dictate a heartfelt letter to my parents.

For my first birthday, most of the same people wrote again. I particularly enjoyed this one, written by the Pitofskys, our neighbors across the street, on behalf of their daughter Kimberle. (Kimberle and I were born around the same time.)

“In 15 yrs. from now we will look back at all of that and have a good laugh.” Definitely a nicer sentiment than what would have been more accurate, which is “In 15 yrs. we will not have seen each other in 11 yrs.”

Finally, had to include this one which is excellent evidence of how people communicated “smiling” back before emoticons were invented:

Also in the packet of cards was a small spiral-bound notebook which seems to be where my parents recorded important information about the pregnancy. My dad seems to have used it to take notes in a birthing class, where he recorded the important instruction to “ignore wife, be calm.” Gotcha:

They also recorded the times, durations, and intensities of my mom’s contractions, which is kind of cool to see. I now know what time I was born, for one thing. I guess this is the 1975 version of live-blogging the birth?

Children born in this generation have a their births documented dramatically differently, no?

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