When Harry Met Edie

Edith has become deeply interested in family stories. "Tell me about when I was a teeny tiny baby," she'll prompt, or, "Tell me about when you were little." Her constant requests have challenged us to dredge up old family lore and long-neglected memories, never knowing what is going to capture the fancy of the inquiring two year old. Sometimes we can talk for awhile without piquing her interest. But when something does catch her attention, it instantly becomes an official Story, with a set narrative arc that must be followed with each retelling. These stories she will then request by title.

Sometimes the stories seem quite bland to us. "Tell me the ice and snow" means I should tell her about how I used to walk Bismarck very carefully during the winter when I was pregnant with her, so a sudden jerk of the leash wouldn't pull me off my feet on the ice. More obviously dramatic is the story that follows from, "Tell me about when I went to the fireworks when I was a baby." Maiden trips to see fireworks, complete with precipitous departures, have become a favorite genre. There is a fireworks story for Edith, one for young Uncle Peter, and one for poor Bismarck.

I remember the age when I was eager to hear family stories. I, too, had established a stock set of favorites. Along the way Mom had referred to one of the events she was narrating as a catastrophe, and so my request became, "Tell me a Family Catastrophe." These revolved around mildly topsy-turvy moments in family history that seemed to me wildly hilarious--uncles falling off sleds into a running stream, grandmothers grabbing the wrong dye at the store and arriving for a visit with purple hair, pet pigs being loaded into the family car for a high school pep rally, elderly ministers having their toes painted by a prankster friend while they were asleep.

Edith's tolerance for catastrophe is pretty low as yet--with the notable exception of a car carrying her own mother stalling out on the railroad tracks. People falling off sleds or bicycles are too scary for her, as are most of the other stories about the escapades of Grandpa and his brothers. We're also not allowed to get to the end of any tale in which it sounds like someone might be about to get in trouble for breaking the rules. Nor can a story involve the explicit separation of a parent and child.

In fact, Edith's all-time favorite genre features the meeting of parents and children: She is a devotee of the birth story. We've rounded up as many of these as we know anything about. There is, of course, the story of her own birth. Then there is that of cousin Matthew, told from the perspective of Uncle Tom and Aunt Gretchen, who received an early morning call to come take care of Abigail and by the time they arrived, wound up leaving Aunt Susan and Uncle Phil just 34 minutes before the birth in which to make it across the state line to the hospital and up to the maternity ward. There remain a few other birth stories Edith has heard several times: her mother's, her cousin Maggie's as best we know it, and as much of Aunt Susan's as Susan knew anything about. Tonight for the first time she asked for cousin Santiago's birth story, and when I explained why it was different and very special, she still wanted me to tell it, and so she heard for the first time about what it means that her cousin Santiago is adopted.

The "birth" story that Edith most likes, however, is the one that begins, "Tell me about when me and Harrison were born." This was not a combined event, of course. What she means is that she wants to hear about the events that led up to her and Harrison becoming friends. Having told this story upwards of 30 times now, I am inclined to agree with Edith that it is a pretty good tale of the start of a friendship. Good enough to share. When she asked for it tonight at dinner, I pointed out to Tom that the way we tell it, you could almost imagine a couple sitting on a sofa reciting it in, say, a romantic comedy. Tom reminded me that he had pushed hard for our daughter to be named Sally, and that in my resistance I may just have thwarted destiny.

So begging pardon from Harrison's parents for taking the liberty of interpreting their lives, here is the first act in the story, "When Harry Met Edie."

Scene 1

Summer 2004. Mommy has just finished her general exams and is looking for a change of pace. She decides to take a summer German class. (E: "Like [classmate] Elias speaks.") The class is full of students from another school across town...including a woman named Campbell. At one point during the summer session, Mommy, Miss Campbell, and Campbell's husband, Mr. Conrad, have dinner together. Daddy works at the bookstore and has a shift that night, so he can't come. Everyone at dinner is nice. But German ends, and they all go their separate ways.

Scene 2

Fall 2004. Mommy and Daddy find out they are going to have a baby in the spring. One night in November, Mommy goes to the hospital where the baby is going to be born for a special visiting night for expectant parents, so they can familiarize themselves with the hospital and the care providers there. Mommy is sitting in the room full of expectant mothers and fathers (Daddy has a shift at the bookstore that night) thinking that this is a small town and that she hasn't yet told anyone at her school about the baby and wondering if she is going to bump into anyone she knows, when in walks...(E: "Miss Campbell!")...from her summer German class. They look at each other sheepishly and laugh, because they both have been keeping their pregnancies a secret. They discover that they are both expecting babies in April, when the flowers start to bloom. They agree that they will have to get back in touch then, so their babies can be friends.

Scene 3

End of April 2005. Mr. Conrad sends Mommy an email, congratulating her on being a new mother and letting her know that Miss Campbell and Mr. Conrad's beautiful new baby, a little boy named Harrison, has been born. He tells Mommy that Miss Campbell wants to celebrate being a new mother with another new mother, and would Mommy like to join Campbell in going out for a drink, while the daddies stay home for a night with their babies? Mommy responds to Mr. Conrad, congratulating him on the arrival of Harrison and agreeing that she'd love to go out to celebrate with Miss Campbell, except for one thing: (E: "I wasn't born yet!") Yes, Mommy and Daddy were still waiting. When did Miss Campbell want to go out? Mommy asked. She was thinking that May 5th would be a good day for Cinco de Mayo margaritas, Mr. Conrad explained. Mommy promises that if her baby has come by then, she will be delighted to go out with Miss Campbell for Cinco de Mayo.

Scene 4

May 5, 2005. But it turned out she couldn't. Why couldn't she go out on May 5th? (E: "You were in the hospital!") Why? (E: "I was being born!") Indeed. So Daddy called Mr. Conrad to explain that we were in the hospital and couldn't come, and Mr. Conrad agreed that that was a pretty good excuse, and that they'd have to try to see us all some other time.

Scene 5

June 2005. Mommy gets an email from Miss Campbell. It is to all her friends and family, to let them know that Harrison and his parents are moving to a new apartment, at XXX E--- Drive, Princeton, New Jersey. Mommy can't believe it: She, Daddy, and Edith are about to move to XXX E--- Drive, Princeton, New Jersey, too! Mommy and Daddy have been a little nervous about making the move across town to live at a different school where they don't know anybody, but this seems like a great omen. Harrison and Edith really will get to become friends after all.

Scene 6

August 2005. Everybody moves into the new building. Soon all the neighbors have a barbecue, and three-month-old Harrison and three-month-old Edith meet. A few months later they start in the same class at school together, the same week. So begins a beautiful friendship.

To be continued...