This is a Recording

You may remember the idea I had to record my grandparents reading some stories for a future little one. This weekend I took off down the road with my laptop, storybook, and a dinky little microphone that I've had for years. My Nana was more than happy to participate. The first thing that we recorded was this song called 'Little Man' that my grandma likes to sing. I never liked it a whole bunch because the duck gets shot. But it's part of my childhood. Next I had her pick a story from the book, which is an omnibus collection of Little Golden Books. She picked 'Goodnight Little Bear'. We got through it pretty quickly only messing up a teeny tiny bit. My Nana is a good storyteller, she does the voices and the noises both. I reassured her that she did not in fact sound like a total hick. Then while she wrote out a script for another song, I pinned down my grandfather. He hemmed and hawed about it for a few moments but still sat down and began looking through the book for his story. I knew the one he would pick out. 'The Color Kittens'. My grandfather loves kitty cats. As I positioned the mic close enough to pick him up, he straightens his back and tucks in his chin. I signal him to start and am immediately amazed at the change in his voice. Deeper richer. I would have never imagined his reading voice would be so much different than his speaking voice. He adlibbed a little here and there which only served to make a truer reflection of who he really is. It recorded beautifully. I was amazed at his voice. It reminded me of this old record I used to have that had the story of Sleepy Hollow on one side and Rip Van Winkle on the other. His voice was just that awesome. If he could stay on point he would make a wonderful narrator. Then my Nana and I headed down to the creek to record another old favorite, 'Blind Child's Prayer'. We decided to record it down there because when I was little I used to lay in her lap in the swing listening to her sing, the creek burble, the leaves whisper, as she gently wove her fingers through my hair with one hand, patting out a beat with the other. I was hoping it might pick up some of the ambient noises. It didn't, my cheapo mic wasn't powerful enough but it did make a very crisp very clear recording of her voice.
Afterwards we went for a walk. My brother met us on the way back and asked what we had been up to. My Nana told him immediately obviously thinking he already knew. I had wanted to keep it a little bit of a secret. Maybe its selfish but I wanted to make this for MY future little one. And I knew what would happen which it did. My brother asked me to make him a copy for his daughter when I finished. I mean she already has access to our grandparents, she sees them two to three times every single week. I guess it is a little selfish, but now I don't really have that option. I agreed to give him a copy when it was finished.
My parents got home a little later and I attempted to corner my Dad. That didn't work. He refused to participate citing a headache, being too busy, he wasn't croaking anytime soon, not in the mood, blah blah blah. Maybe I can catch him on another day. My mom and I retired to my old bedroom and sat down to listen to the recordings i'd already done. That's when we realized that 'Little Man' hadn't recorded completely. Don't know why, maybe the jack slipped out of the port. So I'll have to bring it all back out there again next weekend to redo it anyways. Then Mom recorded mine and my brother's favorite childhood story 'The Pokey Little Puppy." She messed up and got tickled. She wanted to redo it but i loved the little laugh in her voice that made her all the more real in the recorded version. That's the version of my Mom I'd want my kid to know anyways.
I'm going to try and get my husband to use his fancy recording software to put it all together and EQ it properly in the end.
It feels good to get this done. I know that its preparing to make the best of a horrible situation. It's a little morbid in a way. But I'd rather be a little morbid and a lot prepared than to be in denial and miss out on this opportunity and consequently cause my future child to miss out too. My grandmother assured me once again that no matter what happened, iui, ivf, adoption, they would support me and love whatever child we brought into the family.