There are so many times when I have longed to hear my granparents' voices again. I was old enough when my mom's parents and my dad's father died that I have vivid recollections of them and can "hear" their voices in my head, but I wish I had more ready access to recordings of their voices, because I miss hearing them. I miss hearing my Nana, as she would look up at me from her 4-foot-something height, say how much she looked up to me. I miss my Grandpa's laugh. I miss my Papa teasing us about our latest fashion choices (he would always get after us for the holes in our jeans when that was the style, and say how sorry he felt for us that our parents couldn't afford nicer pants for us!).
In that vein, I decided to take a few videos of my dad reading to the boys last night. He bought them a beautifully illustrated book of children's stories for Christmas, and every time he comes, he makes a point of sitting down and reading with Eliot (sometimes Zach sticks around, but mostly just to tease and taunt!). My dad is an avid reader; I inherited my love of literature from him. So he could not be prouder of his little reading buddy Eliot. He loves to open up the Book of Mormon and "test" Eliot's ability to pronounce just about anything (I think he has yet to stump Mr. E). I love the photos and videos I got last night, and hope someday they will be a treasure to my boys. I love listening to my dad read. He always reads stories to us on Christmas Eve, and I love his expressions and the smoothness of his reading. These are priceless to me.
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