How Long Do You Remember Voices?

[mrdreamjeans]

This post isn't intended to be morbid, but one of curiosity and purpose. cimarrondfw has a fascinating family history. His stories are steeped in small-town Texas and often make me contemplate my own family's background. His live journal entry today reminded me of a project I haven't completed. With Dad's medical woes last year, particularly the stroke that targeted short-term memory, I put a project on the back burner. I intend to record my mother and father's voices telling legendary (to us) family stories and events. I almost lost the opportunity.

For years after my best friend Dora died, I had a copy of her voice mail tape. I could hear her voice at my leisure. I no longer know where it is. My Grandma Fritts was a key figure in my childhood. I am losing what she sounded like. Both women had distinctive voices and I'm losing them. Not the memories. The memories are still vibrant, but I'm forgetting how they sounded. I miss them.

Be it my age, or what I've been through in the past 15 months. Be it my nature to want to remember and document. Be it a decision of emotional need. I want to retain the voices of those people that I've loved (love) long after they are gone from my life. The faces of Dora, my relatives and other friends who have died are clear in my memory. Some of the voices (the cadences, idiosyncratic voice patterns, tone, pitch, the sound of their laugh) are still with me. But for how long? I am just barely holding on to Grandma's voice ... gone 33 years ... and Dora's ... gone 10 years.

My voice will live on in recordings, as will many of my singer friends. But, I'm curious and so I ask these open questions: Do you remember the voices of your loved ones after they are gone? For how long? How do you hang on to something so key to who they were, yet so ephemeral? Do you have their voices captured for posterity? I better get busy and make those tapes.

Comments

[bismrkbear.livejournal.com]

This one hit home, and not for the voices. The stories are the important part to me. My Father had many stories that he would tell and they are mostly lost to time. As a youngster, I would bet that I was not alone in my family of six kids in thinking "If I've heard that story once, I've heard it a hundred times." The problem with that is when I wanted to hear the story again, define what was fact and what was fiction, he was no longer able to tell the story to me. At 62 my dad was a fifty something handsome looking man, looking forward to his retirement. Due to a very rare disease, Progressive Supernuclear Palsy, by the time of his death at 69 he looked 90 and was unable to communicate what his still bright mind was thinking.

There were three stories that I wanted clarified where I'll no longer get his story. One was his "blind date" during WWII. Dad was back in the states and someone had set up a blind date for him. It was only after his leave was canceled and the blind date called off, that he found out the date was Bess Myerson, Miss America 1945. The questions still are here, how much of this is true, and how could he verify it? Was this before she became Miss America? Was he aware of her controversy as the first Jewish Miss America? Whenever she was on TV we'd hear the same story and in the late 50's early 60's that was quite often.

I also remember a story of how he was in New York when a military plane flew into the Empire State Building. Dad was stationed in New Jersey at the time, same as the Bess Myerson story, and would have been close to the situation. I remember a PBS program on architecture that showed newsreel footage of the plane crash and wanted Dad's account. Unfortunately, this was during the time when it was becoming more and more difficult for Dad to speak. After Dad died, I was looking through some old photos and spied a series of photos that I knew from experience were taken on the top of the Empire State Building. These photos made my unanswered questions even more personal to me.

The third myth involves a Major League Baseball team asking my Dad to try out. I guess I shouldn't say myth, since it has been corroborated, but I would like the rest of the story. If you've seen Field of Dreams, the part where he goes to Northern Minnesota to find out about "Doc" very much reminds me of my Dad. The hitch-hiker he picks up on the way to the Iron Range tells the story of the small towns there that would set up a great baseball player with a "job" so he could play on their town team. I had heard that about my hometown and my Dad and Mr Taylor specifically. The Cleveland Indians I believe were the team who recruited my Dad during his ball playing days in the Army.

So the stories remain vague, but one thing doesn't. I don't ever remember a moment of regret. We'd talk about how beautiful Bess Myerson was and know that he was happy with Mom and the kids. He'd revel in the stories of his baseball playing ability, but know that the missed opportunity of pro baseball led him back home to meet my Mom and father all of us.

I didn't get to ask him the questions, clarify the stories, but I did get the most important answer. About a month before his death I got the call that he was sent to the hospital with pneumonia. I took a week off to go visit him, be with Mom, and probably say goodbye. As I sat in the hospital room, looking at this pale imitation of the robust, vibrant Father I always knew, I could only think of my love for him. PSP had made this athlete an immobile skeleton. It made his handsome face hollow. It caged his mind, or so I thought. As I sat there holding his hand I said "I love you Dad." His grip on my hand grew tight. I repeated it and he responded with a grip that would shame a pro arm wrestler.

I guess that is all I need to know. Seventeen years later the stories remain unclear. What isn't unclear is that my Father used every ounce of his strength to tell me he loved me.

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Myth or not ... I really enjoyed you sharing this with me. Your final sentence says it all. Thanks for this inspiration.

Hugs!

[kjuncwby.livejournal.com]

my mother passed away Nov 03, my uncle 01 and my paw paw in 2000. but i still remember what each of them soounded like.

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

You are very fortunate. I am hoping that I can recall all of the voices of those I've loved and lost. The years are eroding this ... but from time to time, the voices still come through ...

Hugs ...

[kjuncwby.livejournal.com]

when times get rough,i 'talk' to my mom. i still here her voice when we are talking. i dont think i;ll ever forget her voice

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

May that always be true ...

Hugs, Bubba ...

[trulygrateful.livejournal.com]

My mother passed away November 1980 (the night the country found out who shot J.R. Ewing) and my father in May 1985. I can still hear my father's voice in my head sometimes but, sadly, I can't seem to remember my mother's at all.

Fortunately, I can remember what she said, I just can't put her voice to the words. Perhaps it'll come back when it's meant to.

I don't know if it's a matter of age, distance in time, or something else... but with advancements made in recording (both audio and visual) there's no reason to not have some recorded memory of loved ones for after they've departed.

XOXO

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

I agree ...I should not wait any longer to record their voices. I am very aware of how fortunate I am to still have my folks around ... difficulties or not.

It makes happy to see words from you in my journal. I know Chip and you are really busy, so I don't worry; but know that you are missed in these pages.

Hugs ...

[trulygrateful.livejournal.com]

Bless your heart.

Have you given any idea(s) as to what you'd like to record of your parents? Perhaps a story from their childhood? -or some anecdote about you as a child?

I'll be staying tuned... and remember, I may not write much, but I'm always reading (though remembering is a different matter altogether).

XOXOXO

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Before all of Dad's medical events last year, I had made a list of favorite stories; I planned to interview them, then all hell broke loose. I have the list .... somewhere:) I hope to find it and perhaps have my sister or brother videotape me interviewing them at my niece's birthday party on Tuesday night.

I hope you don't mean "bless your heart" in a Southern way ... when southerners use that term it usually precedes a bitchy aside. LOL!

Big HUGS!

[trulygrateful.livejournal.com]

You know, I should have been more aware of the "suthern" meaning - but I meant it in quite a literal way.

The Merging of Voices

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

One of these days, I'd like to see you elaborate on this theme ... It's interesting that his voice is so clear when so much of what he had to say brought you pain ... perhaps, that's the point.

Hugs!

[gryphons-hole.livejournal.com]

I don't think I carry folks voices with me in memory. At best, I carry a sense of their voice.

Most of my memories are feelings, not sounds or pictures. I carry with me how they felt - and how they made me felt. It seems to stick to me indefinitely, although changes from chemo years back interfered with how I access my memories. Sometimes I need a boost from something someone else says or does.

Both of my grandmothers died within a year from each other, almost two decades ago now. It still saddens me on a regular basis to have no living grandparents, but I feel them around me on a regular basis.

Sometimes, it is like I just walked out of one of their homes. I get so taken wil the memoriy of them that I can't help but cry. They feel that real to me.

Now would be one of those moments. Thank you for triggering those memories for me.

[gryphons-hole.livejournal.com]

Oh, may I link to this post?

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Yes, of course ... I appreciate you asking ...

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

I hear what you mean. Often, I access them through my dreams. Mostly, my grandmothers and my friend Dora. The other people populating my dreams are current. I'm particularly intrigued by your phrase, "I carry a sense of their voice". I will toss this around. Thank you for that.

Hugs ...

[gryphons-hole.livejournal.com]

Meaning... I don't hear their true voices as they were... I think I assign a concept of what I remember their voices to have been. Sometimes, I hear my paternal grandmother's voice in my head, but more often I just trigger a memory of something she said to me and just know it was spoken in her voice...

[madisonbear.livejournal.com]

That's actually a wonderful question(s).

When i was growing up, my mother would record me after my first day of school up until she died. She would ask me how i liked it, what i thought of the teacher, how my friends had changed over the summer, etc. I remember at the time thinking what a pain it was because all i wanted to do was go play.

A few years after her death...2 i think...i found the tapes and started to play them. It was emotional hearing her voice and me all squirmy and reluctant at times to answer her questions.

I haven't listened to those tapes in 25 years and hadn't thought about them until i read your post.

I think i can remember the sound of her voice...i think. I've never actually tried to remember it until now...keeping barriers up i guess.

I regret i don't have my Aunt's voice recorded...but it would probably be the same situation as with my mothers.

I can here my Aunt in my head. Not so much by choice...but still coming to terms with her passing. I still expect to answer the phone and here "Hello Teddy" and responding "Hi Aunt Gerry". I guess thats how i will probably (involuntarily) hang on to the memory of her voice.

I hope you don't loose any more sounds of you loved ones. It may be the stress you've been under. I hope that you'll have a relaxing moment and be able to recall them.

(hugs from up north!)

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Perhaps, there is a recording of your Aunt's voice, a home video or something, that you can access and copy. How lucky you are to have the recordings of your mother caring very much what happened to her boy!

I am going to ask my brother to bring his video camera to my folks house and I'm going to interview them. I'm not going to let this slip away through procrastination.

Heard you had a lovely bike ride yesterday with Joe and Tim. Two special friends ...

Big HUGS!

I hear dead people.....

[althrman.livejournal.com]

Someone like yourself, who “lives” with sound in his life, as more than an orifice of noise, would come up with this query. Sound is energy and fleeting at best but yes, it imparts on me, I hear, triggered by unknown stimulus, shadows. True when I am around family, touches of those long silent, can be heard in the back echo of voice, and often bring me a smile. But even those who were chapters in my life, have left voice prints, as if I could carry on a conversation at times. Moments of brilliance or insanity, maybe one day I will find out.

Re: I hear dead people.....

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Echos and shadows ... nice way to put it ... "Voice prints" ... succinct. I do hear traces of my Grandma Fritts in my mother's voice, some of my mom in my sister's voice ... Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be ... Those voice prints are like the physical characteristics that are passed down in DNA.

Another thought just occurred ... What about accents? ... I grew up in Pennsylvania till the age of 12; my brother was six when we moved to Texas. Very different accents and speech patterns. Will my family hear and remember my voice as one that wasn't distinctly Texan? Hmmmm ...

Good to hear from you ... HUGS!

[quietdanmn.livejournal.com]

I have found that I have a decent memory for people & voices that had an impact on my life.

I can remember all of my grandmother's sister's voices, but only one of her brother's voices. I can still clearly hear my great-grandparents voices, even though they have been gone now for 15-20 years.

Though perhaps, I'm fortunate that the voices in my family tend to have similar qualities from generation to generation, so those memorable characteristics get refreshed when I see family.

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Do you find that you remember the women's voices more clearly than the men's? Or was it because you knew the women more intimately than the men in your family? I spent much more time with my grandmothers than my grandfathers as a child. I have no voice for my paternal grandfather at all, as he died 7 years before I was born. I also have no memory of my maternal grandfather's voice ... I most specifically remember his cigar smoking while working on his oil paintings.

I'm curious. Do other members of your family share the gentle, soft-spoken quality of your voice? I find it peaceful. Were you this way as a child? Learned behavior or by instinct? Interesting ...

Hope Pride and your birthday were really enjoyable!! HUGS!

[quietdanmn.livejournal.com]

I'll send you an email, as the response may be lengthy and it will be easier.

*hugs*

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

Your comment makes me wonder if voice imprinting ... our ability to recognize and remember individual voices is a question of highly developed auditory processing skills. For instance, my niece has been diagnosed with auditory processing disorder which makes her unable to follow verbal communication as quickly as some people. Hmmm ... Interesting thought and connection ...

I'm happy that you have the tape of your father's voice. I believe that Dora's voice is still with me after 10 years, but grandma's after three decades is sort of a guess. Oddly, I remember her cadences most vividly from the rare occasion she was angered. She had a more pronounded German accent then.

HUGS!

[cimarrondfw.livejournal.com]

Gee, Neil, I didn't realize that my simple post had the potential of building up such a huge response from among other readers. Thanks.

I've been thinking still more. I don't know if I remember voices, though like gryphons_hole above I know I recall feelings. I can visualize even now some things I heard certain people say many times. I remember well the intensity of the loss felt by my grandmother whose only son died in World War II, though it did not occur with the "honor" of dying in action.

Also like madisonbear, I've experienced recordings of voices that I'd almost forgotten about. My ex-wife recorded our children at various stages talking about school, etc. I got involved in recording some of those events that were so antimated. I certainly hope she still has those cassettes. I'm sure she does. I'd like to hear them again now that the children are 35, 33, and 31. It'd be fun. I bet their own older kids would enjoy them, trying to visualize their parents as little kids.

Thank you, Neil. And thank you again for however long ago it was you introduced me to this format of thought sharing. Hugs!

[mrdreamjeans.livejournal.com]

You're welcome, my friend ... You have often speculated that your stories and posts would not interest others. I find them interesting and learn so much from you, your wisdom, kindess and experience. Each of us has a unique path. I hope I never stop listening for what I can learn from others.

I hope your ex-wife has the tapes too and I hope your voice is on them too. Some day Charlie or another loved one will want to hear your distinctive voice once again ... so the love can wash over them in a flood of sense memory. You should sit down and play the tapes next Christmas. I bet they will generate a lot of conversation and smiles.

Big HUGS!