This is life

 
David recently emailed me a link to a short video called, "The Years are Short."  He kept asking if I had had the time to watch it. I kept telling him I was too busy.

The other night, I finally sat down with him at my side and I watched it. I was moved. David told me he even teared up a bit the first time he saw the video (which is saying a lot).

What makes this little PowerPoint presentation so good? How does it manage to pack such a powerful punch in such a soft, gentle way?

I often ask my advertising students to deconstruct television ads from a communication perspective, that is to notice each individual element of the piece: the copy (words), the images, the pacing, the music. These same communication techniques are found in this little video.

Watch the video first as you normally would watch any video. Then watch it again with an eye for all of the elements that are used to tell the story.

The Years are Short

This is why I think this video "works."

The images in the presentation are every day pictures ....streets, people, dogs, buses, shoes, hands, sidewalks.  Yes, the images are from New York City, but they are pictures that could be any city USA. We never actually see a face of a person, which makes it easier to place our own faces and those we love into the scenes.

The emotion of the piece is set by the music, a piano solo played in a minor key. The rhythm is slow and deliberate. At several points, the piano even stops for a second and then surges into the next phrase. The music takes the viewer to that odd place where feeling sad actually feels good.

With the images and music setting the emotional stage, the words then tell the story.  It is my story and your story---a story that any parent could tell.  It is the universal story of living too fast to see the ephemeral quality of life.  All parents can remember a time when a child points to the simple and ordinary. "Look, a dog!" the child says and we see the world through their eyes. These moments happen fast with no opportunity to hit the pause or rewind button. The best we can do is play this video over and over again to remind us how precious these years are.

A note about the interplay of words, music and images.  The words in the PowerPoint accompany the music like the voice of singer. We see one sentence. Pause. The singer takes a breath. Then we see the next sentence. We sit with the images and words until the music cues the next slide. The video is 2 minutes of carefully paced reflection. I am a sucker for all of this.  I feel a lump of emotion build inside me every time I see this video.

I don't take Emma to school on a bus, but I do pick her up in our car 3 out 5 days of the week.  When it's 2:30 in the afternoon and nothing is crossed off my  "to do" list, I often get ready to pick up Emma in a haze of frustration.

Recently, Emma asked to go to the park after school. At the park, Emma asked me to swing with her. I decided I would show Emma a trick out my own childhood playbook.  I sat in a swing and told her to straddle me. Now facing each other,  I started to pump my legs.  I pumped higher and higher and higher until the swing takes a little bounce and my heart starts to hurt. I remember the split second of terror when my 40-something bottom feels like it is going to fall out of the swing. I feel my body tensing up, telling me I am swinging too high, but I love the exhilaration of being out of control. I am a child again, now playing with my own child.

At the end of our playground time, Emma looks at me with excited eyes and asks, "That was fun. Can we do it again, please, tomorrow?" I bend over, hold her face in my hands, look into her eyes and say,  "Of course, sweet baby girl, of course."

This is my version of the "Years are Short" video. Given that Emma is 8, I am not sure how much longer Emma will want to swing on her mama's lap, In my struggle to balance my professional life with motherhood, I must remember that afternoons in the park with Emma are numbered.

So seemingly, just the other day, in November of 2001, I took this picture of Emma, a beautiful, cherub of a baby. Thank goodness I have pictures and video, because I have actually forgotten Emma as a baby.

Now, this is the 8-year old version of Emma in 2009 in her jazz dance pants and leotard. Emma, a sweet, happy, social butterfly of a child.

What will this child be like in 8 more years. I don't know how 16-year old girls are like anymore. In 2017, Emma will remind me, but by then I will have forgotten the 8-year old Emma.