Saturday, November 28, 2009

Through Sarah's Eyes


Sarah loves to sing and dance and this is not something she got from Peter or from me. That came from Emma. By the time Sarah arrived on the scene, it was already a well-established pattern that evenings would be spent in our living room with music on. The furniture in our living room is all concentrated in one part of the room, leaving a big open square of space on the other end. This design element was inspired by Emma’s need for a dance floor and just stuck, even after we renovated that floor of the house and changed everything else.

It was actually a perfect performing space. There is a hallway that runs behind the open-spaced part of the living room that provided essential backstage space. The large entry-way from the hall to the living room functioned well as a proscenium arch and allowed for grand entrances. It seemed almost natural that we would use the space that way. I often wondered if our kids looked at more uniformly furnished living rooms and wondered why there wasn’t a dance floor.

Emma and Sarah usually shared the stage, dancing together, or taking turns twirling around the floor while the other waited “backstage.” But I remember one particular night when Emma was the only act on the bill. On this evening, the armchairs were turned away from the fireplace, as they were usually positioned, and now faced the dance floor, providing seats for the audience. Sarah, who was probably about 1 ½ at the time, was sitting in one of the chairs, her little legs sticking straight out, with her brightly colored sneakers barely reaching the end of the seat cushion.

The video camera is rolling again this evening, as it was many evenings. At first the video focuses on dancing Emma, but then it moves off of her to capture Sarah. She is clearly captivated by Emma's performance and her stillness and attention is something that must be recorded. When Sarah realizes that the camera is focused on her, however, she gets annoyed. She points back to Emma. “This is Emma. This is Emma, Daddy,” she insists.

Losing someone the way we lost Emma causes you to look at life's events, big and small, from a new angle. When I review that scene from my new vantage point, I hear something different in Sarah’s proclamation. At the time, I took it at face value - the shy toddler pointing to her talented sister and saying “Do you see what Emma can do?!” But you know, Sarah didn't just admire Emma. She also always had an incredible understanding of the person Emma was deep down. So now I look at it and the message I take is, “See how Emma is in this moment? See the joy that she feels and the joy that she brings? This is Emma.”

1 comment:

  1. Gorgeous, gorgeous story. Thank you Nancy - I love these stories and snapshots - and the tears keep coming, and the chuckles and laughs too. Thank you!

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