Later today I will brave the cold and drive to a friend’s house for a bit of Christmas cheer. It’s odd to be home rather than visiting with family at this time of year, but the extreme cold, Covid, flu, and the like suggest I should stay close to home. So, I’m here reading Michelle Obama’s book The Light We Carry. A relaxing Christmas.
My earliest memories of my father, Charles Dolby, are of him building things. He expanded the house I grew up in and built a lake cottage that we spent time in every summer. He was a city fireman, which meant rushing into burning buildings, and he once broke his foot in the line of duty. He had a kind of quite courage that showed itself most clearly toward the end of his life—when he was forced to endure the debilitating effects of a stroke. As I’ve gotten older, I have appreciated how hard that was on him. Just to stay alive was an act of courage. Thanks, Dad.
Making these short music/picture videos has been an engaging project (at least for me). For the past six months, I have been cautious and, I like to think, considerate as this pandemic has stymied my participating in so many of the activities I would usually enjoy. And I expect to be making similar adjustments over the coming year as well. I am thinking up some new projects to focus on, mostly because I know that having a project going is my way of staving off boredom and depression. This is likely to be my last video for now as I turn to something else, so for this one I thought I would share some of my memories and images that help me look forward toward the future, something that I did pretty easily when I was younger but that requires some intentional choices on spending my time now that I have so much unstructured time to spend. People, activities, books, and movies that have spurred me onward include my grandmother, my family, my daughter, my friends, teaching and the field of folklore studies, and of course my music and writing. I hope the video sparks similar incentives for you from your own store of memories.