CHASING DOWN THE MUSE: Small moments add up to history

Noble acts and momentous events happen in the same way and produce the same impression as the ordinary facts. “” Roberto Rossellini

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History. So much history is being made each and every day. Much is momentous. Much is ordinary. Much is recorded. Much is lost.

Several things have brought this subject to my mind on this beautiful, sunlit day here in Laguna. Politically, of course, this is a momentous time in history, and much is being made of this. A woman. A half-black man. Either could be our next president. Even the system of choosing is undergoing historical changes.

The striking Writers Guild has reached a tentative agreement that will change its history. A “first” was recorded as history when Amy Winehouse came out of rehab to sing for the Grammys. The Brown Pelican has been removed from the endangered list “” certainly of some significance to natural historians. A 13-year-old girl kept up with the best of them at a Navy Seal fitness event at UCLA recently “” a small thing to some, but perhaps of some historical significance down the road.

Each of us is making some contribution to the history of the world in some small way each day as we go about living our lives. Will anyone know or remember? And who would care?

Remembering back to when my daughters were young, I recently thought of the projects they had in school to interview and write about an older person’s history. Most of the children picked a family member. My youngest daughter, Jenna, picked a neighbor. As his history unfolded we were humbled and gratified to learn of his life. I was happy to see that this project endures and grows in our schools, for I feel it provides valuable lessons.

Years ago, as my grandmother Billie was aging, my mother recorded her stories of her youth. My grandmother, named Emma Mae at her birth, had wonderful dreams for her life. She played the piano and sang beautifully, and her first paid work was playing the music for the silent picture shows. The recordings my mother made told of these and many more of her early adventures. I am saddened by the fact these recordings are now lost for her stories were such a delight to the young girl I once was. Is her history thus lost? I try to keep it alive.

Recently, I read the book “Letters for Sam,” by Dan Gottlieb. This book is “a grandfather’s lessons on love, loss and the gifts of life.” It is so much more than this. It is a small history and, while just one of so many, that the book was written “” and written out of great love and joy and sorrow “” at all inspires me. The author is a family therapist and columnist for the Philadelphia Inquirer. He is also a quadriplegic and is writing to his grandson who has been diagnosed with autism. The 32 letters are written with the gift of insightful wisdom and, while special to their own unusual circumstances, speak to universal challenges of living.

As I said, this book inspired me and so, in keeping with a belief in the value of family histories and the hope that I can be as intimate, honest, and compassionate as Gottlieb, I consider this column to be the beginning of something. Perhaps I only want to be part of this historical time in some way, to leave my mark, but I will follow my heart, for I think there is more to it than that.

Before sitting down to write this, I penned what I hope will be the first of many “letters” to my own grandsons. I was surprised at where it took me. I am inspired to continue. I hope that by writing this column, I can inspire others of you to do the same. I believe it is a wonderful legacy we give to our loved ones.

Just begin. You will see. Dear”¦.

CHERRIL DOTY is an artist, writer, and creative coach exploring and enjoying the many mysteries of life in the moment. She can be reached by e-mail at Cherril@cherrildoty.com or by phone at (949) 251-3883.