My Life as a Furry Red Monster - Kevin Clash [9]
“Baby,” Elmo would say, “your daddy can’t wait for us to get together!” In my mind, the meeting of Shannon and Elmo would be the union of two of the most powerful love forces in the universe.
In my heart, I knew Elmo was reaching my baby girl, but I wanted to do more to welcome her into the world: I wanted to do a video diary told from Elmo’s point of view. When the big day arrived, and we knew it was time to head for the hospital, I called both our moms and Ne-Ne, and helped Genia get ready to go. Then I ran down to the workshop to get Elmo and the video camera. “This is it, baby!” he said to the camera. “You’re going to arrive today!”
By now Genia’s mom had arrived at our house, along with Ne-Ne (who had to do some of the Lamaze sessions in my absence, and who is still as close to Genia as any sister). Genia’s contractions were progressing and it was time to go. As I videotaped everyone preparing to leave, I had Elmo say “And there’s your grandmommy and your Auntie Ne-Ne getting into the car to take you to the hospital.” I panned the camera over to Genia and had Elmo say “And there’s your mommy!” In the background, you can hear Genia saying “Put the damned camera down and get in the car!”
I wanted all of those memories to be preserved in a special way. When Shannon was still a baby, I asked a talented director and editor named David Gumpel, who worked with Jim Henson, to do for me what he’d been doing for his own kids for a while. He put together a music video from the footage I shot over the course of Shannon’s first year. He spliced in some of our still photographs with my video, for a very special presentation. But I wanted more. Lilias White, a Tony award-winning actress and friend, and a regular on Sesame Street, sang a song Jill Scott wrote and arranged called “Sha Sha My Baby.”
I treasured that video and frequently shared it with a very young Shannon. I knew that she had no memory of those events, but it had been such a special, magical time for us and we wanted her to know how much she was loved. As a little girl, Shannon seemed confused by it; I really think she felt some connection, but she didn’t know why. It scared her, and we couldn’t show it to her. Over the years, that video has been relegated to a shelf, but every now and then when I get the urge, I watch it and relive the joys of those baby days.
I remember an exhausted but happy Genia and me, shortly after Shannon’s birth, relaxing with the baby asleep in her bassinet. When you’re a brand-new parent, you can happily pass a lot of time just looking at your baby. Shannon’s face was creased with that classic newborn frown, but she looked so angelic with her downy halo of hair. I don’t know if I have the words to explain what happened to me in that moment, but it was as if I were truly seeing her for the first time. Until then, it had been almost as if I had been seeing her through Elmo’s eyes—I’d so often used Elmo’s voice to talk to her in the womb, to narrate the video.
Suddenly I didn’t feel the need to have Elmo speak for me. I could just be Daddy with our child in that moment. I don’t know if, in those months leading up to Shannon’s birth, I’d used Elmo as my messenger because I was afraid and unsure of what to expect as a father. I knew I could trust Elmo to reach her since he rarely failed to touch the heart of any child he met. He’d gotten me this far, but now it was time for Kevin to do his job as a father, and it was a task I took to with a passion.
That night, for the first