I rediscovered two messages from my parents in my Log -o-Life. My “baby book,” its four-page index implies a long and productive life. Numerous pages are incomplete. Some are not applicable, like “Doctor of Philosophy Diploma” and “Military Record.” Others reference experiences that slipped by, unrecorded: High School Activities, Transcript of College Credits, Publications, and more. The Middle Age Photo page is blank. And though there are seven pages for autographs, there is a single entry. Laurie Antonietti – 11/10/69.

My parents penned their notes on my dad’s forty-first birthday—November 25, 1968. My mom was thirty-seven. Written to a preadolescent baby boomer, their words are precious. Many are timeless.

“The game of life is a challenge. Especially for your generation. Play it fair and always play it to the best of your ability. Retain your faith, be charitable to all and refuse to do wrong.”

“Stand by your convictions and what you have been taught and know what is right – always be charitable to all – and honest with yourself and others, and just always do your best.”

My dad has been gone three and a half years.

My mom, on the cusp of her eighty-ninth birthday, lives at Touchmark, a senior living community. COVID-19 restrictions have limited her interactions with family and non-Touchmark friends. Aside from a pair of respites piggybacked onto medical appointments, she has had one outing since March. Following a doctor visit three weeks ago, she waited in the car while I ran into Target. She needed laundry detergent, but I had to remind her she could not go into the store.

When I returned to the car, she said, “A lot of people aren’t wearing those things…I can’t believe it.” She pointed to her mask. “We might have this for the rest of our lives.” She sighed. “Do you think they’ll be able to have the wedding?”

“I don’t know,” I replied.

Mom’s memory waxes and wanes, and sometimes she struggles with words. But she remembered something about the pandemic. And her thoughts swung to the granddaughter who had already rescheduled her wedding once.

When I reread these words from long ago, I was reminded of our conversation in the Target parking lot. If my dad had been in the car with us, he would have echoed what my mom tried to say.

Be charitable to all. And wear a mask.