A Mundane Activity

We tend to approach the bigger milestones of our lives with an implicit expectation that the memory of them would last a long time. To use one of my favorite terms from John Koenig’s excellent Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, these bigger milestones come with a built-in expectation of dés vu, the awareness that this moment will become a memory.

But for every one of these big milestones – a wedding, the birth of a child, a first day of school, or a lost tooth – are an infinite number of smaller, less monumental moments which no less inherently worthy of becoming enshrined as memories. Why is it that we’ve somehow collectively agreed that it makes sense to create photo albums of our vacations but not of our school-day breakfasts? To save mementos from a big birthday party but not from a rainy weekend at home?

This probably has something to do with our routines, and what we view as ordinary and extraordinary: a game of Hangman, scribbled on the back of an envelope while waiting for dinner to be ready, feels ordinary, while a summer vacation to Norway is, by definition, extraordinary.

But our routines evolve over time, and with them, the definition of what’s ordinary and not. So consider all of these ordinary, mundane activities in your family’s life. Now consider how you’ll think about them – or if you’ll think about them at all – a year, a decade, a generation from now, when they’ve become all but extinct from your daily routines. And right now - while these mundane activites are still fresh in your mind - write a quick note to your kid about them. Reliving this day-in-the-life, a lifetime later, will indeed feel extraordinary.