“You’ll never guess what I found today!”

It was the winter of 2021, when Dad spent nearly every afternoon going through the boxes in the attic. Mom had been gone a bit more than a year, and he felt it was time to see what they’d saved over their lifetime, both together and even before they met.

“My baby book!”

I had to laugh at the thought of it. He promised to tuck it away for me to see during our next visit.

Although I’d skipped through the pages a few times since Dad passed away three years ago, it took till today – his 94th birthday – to examine each card and carefully read each page.

Well, I cried. Sobbed actually. It’s so full of sweet memories captured by the new parents.

Actually, Dad was Grandma and Grandpa‘s second child. Their firstborn, Robert, only lived five days. Dad was born 363 days later. Irish twins.

So when Dad was born – hale and hearty at 8 lbs. 6 oz. – his parents nicknamed him Big Boy.

What time of day was Dad born? The little stinker took his first breath during the uncivilized hour of 3am. He was an early riser for the rest of his days.

This photo is pasted to the Baby’s Picture page of his baby book, with a notation it was taken in March of 1931, when Big Boy was 10 months old:

Grandma and Grandpa saved the dozens of cards and three congratulatory telegrams.

Here’s the telegram sent from Grandpa’s parents, George and Alice, and his brother Carter from Bangor, Maine, to Utica, New York, on that big day:

Gifts included clothes, bibs, an orange juicer, money, baby utensils, and a ring.

When did Dad’s first tooth make itself known? According to Grandma’s lovely handwriting, the date was February 18, 1931.

A lock of Dad’s hair is enveloped in wax paper and taped inside his baby book.

Dad’s cousin Gloria was listed as his first friend.

The next page requested Dad’s first word. Grandma listed his vocabulary between the ages of eight and 13 months, in order:

• Da-da
• Ada (hired girl)
• Uh-uh (for “thank you,” “please,” and “excuse me”)
• Nanna
• Stop (mostly in whisper)
• Oh, Dear!
• I didn’t – I didn’t
• Aw, get out
• Mama
• Well, well well!
• Boom-Boom!
• Oh-o-o! (when he saw anything that particularly pleased him)

Grandma made a white layer cake with white frosting for Dad’s first birthday, but he wasn’t allowed to eat any. (I’m not a therapist, but I think he spent the rest of his days making up for this parental misjudgment.)

According to Dad’s baby book, it was not until Big Boy was 13 months old that he took his first steps.

Here’s Grandma’s narrative, from June 29, 1931:

Baby was in the kitchen with Mother and Dad when all of a sudden he got up on his feet and took four steps all by himself across the floor. He was so delighted that it was almost impossible to get him to do anything but walk for the next few minutes. He laughed and giggled as though he had done the greatest thing in the world.

In November, Grandpa loaded up the Pontiac and the family drove to Maine for Thanksgiving and visits with both sets of new grandparents. Grandpa had to head back to work (busy time at Fraser’s Department Store) but Dad and his mom stayed for two weeks and returned to Utica by train.

Dad’s first Christmas included a tree “with 24 electric lights.” Gifts included a high chair, clothes, and toys.

His favorite toy? “Little red rubber doll with whistle. Delights in chewing doll’s head.”

Happy birthday, Big Boy! Here’s hoping heaven is full of cake and colored lights, to be enjoyed with Mom and all of your kin. And just maybe try to sleep in a bit tomorrow morning …

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