I’ve saved voice messages from my son over the last several years. I wasn’t conscious why I’ve done so — space on my phone is limited so why keep mundane messages like “can I have a sleepover” when they are a dime a dozen?
I also saved a few voice messages from my daughter, but the urgency to do so was not as strong as it was with my son.
This is the Summer of the Voice Change
Now it makes sense why I felt compelled to save my son’s pre-pubescent voice digitally. His little boy voice is gone to me now, except for in these few recordings I hung on to.
There are fewer than three months between these two clips. My son is in the middle of the change now — his voice today isn’t the same as his voice yesterday. And his voice tomorrow will again be new.
For now, as he continues his one-way trip into manhood, I’ll play documentarian and treasure the moments I’ve captured.
And laugh a little at this memory, which I never got to experience up close until now (I have no brothers).
(By the way, do you realize that Marcia — Maureen McCormick — turned 60 earlier this month!?)
Audio clips shared with Son’s blessing.
This post is part of #MicroblogMondays? Whazzat? A post that’s not too long. Head to Stirrup Queens to join the fun.