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VARTABEDIAN: HEATHER'S BIG DANCE
Tom Vartabedian
http://www.hairenik.com/weekly/2009/0 9/28/vartabedian-heather%e2%80%99s-big-dance/
Sept ember 28, 2009
Take all the gold medals ever won at an AYF Olympics over the past
75 years and file them away for posterity. Nice to win one, but in
the real world it won't get you a job or give you your health.
A more tangible side might be the human emotion that often crops
up, not on a track or pool but inside a dance hall where the hordes
are gathered.
This is Providence and the usual plethora of dancers and revelers
turned out Sunday night for the traditional ball. When it came time
for the chapter dances, Greater Boston received the first nod for
finishing third.
The "Nejdehs" gathered in their circle and hot-footed it around
the dance floor. Out stepped their coach Ara Krafian with his arms
waving for a solo, beckoning for his wife. With crutch and all,
on came Heather to accommodate the crowd, and the two whirled and
twirled like a couple energized teeny-boppers.
Heather had much to celebrate on this evening, a long, arduous road
to rehabilitation from a disease that wracked her immune system over
the past three years. The gold medal her daughter Araxi secured in
the 200 earlier that afternoon was the best medicine any surgeon
could have prescribed.
In her very first Olympics, Araxi gave notice of her talent, adding
a couple silver medals around her neck. And there were three other
sisters who've been weaned in AYF circles. In time, the girls could
very well organize their own relay or-at the very least-impact a
scoring race.
As Heather danced, the crowd edged her on. Chants of "Go Heather! Go
Heather!" filled the room. It was her moment to enjoy the golden touch,
a moment she had envisioned for many months, ever since she became a
victim of Wegener's Granulomatosis, an uncommon disease that affects
1 in 25,000 people.
With the help of drugs, she had been in remission, only to suffer
a recurrence. Now, she was back on the track to recovery, there for
her daughters and never letting it interfere with their childhood.
"Some of us have crosses to bear, others just have heavier ones,"
she had told me. "I am not sure why mine has been so heavy. I can't
change the past but am looking for a better present and hope the
future will become even brighter. They say if you get lemons, then
make lemonade. I've been running my own lemonade stand. My glass is
always half full, not half empty. That's the optimist in me talking."
Wheelchair, walker, and crutches aside, here she was, doing her own
victory dance and leaving an indelible image in that hall. The smile
on her face stretched from ear to ear. Nothing else mattered much,
not the final score, another trophy, or another Olympics Cup.
A woman and her husband, both eternal AYFers, were hitting their stride
as parents, friends, one and all, kept cadence. Heather finished her
dance, like she had just finished an Olympic race. In a word: buoyant!
Next came Philly with its masses and the music played on. Young
and old, robust or otherwise, the "Sebouhs" did their chapter dance
justice. After retiring the cup a year ago, they pushed Providence
to the brink this year before falling at the end.
The "Varantians" had a championship to celebrate and out they romped
to their coveted "Hey Jon" and more miracles. Suddenly, out of her
wheelchair bolted Maro Garabedian Dionisopoulos with a gold medal
dangling around her neck as the recipient of a Varadian AYF Spirit
Award.
On one side was Dr. Louis Najarian with Yeretzgeen Joanna
Baghsarian on the other, giving her all the support she would ever
need. Music. Dancing. An emotional surge that took on a contagious
effect.
If Heather could get up and do her dance, Maro would not be denied as
the unremitting governess of the Providence chapter all these decades.
It reminded you of the movie "Cocoon" in which a group of infirmed
people jumped into a swimming pool and cured their ills. The dance
hall had turned into an Armenian Cocoon of sorts for the way it
rejuvenated this crowd.
Music has a redeeming quality. Just ask the people at this Olympics
Ball and you'll discover why. Ask the Heathers and Maros of our
generation and they will tell you that there is sustenance when people
gather in a circle and hold hands.
There is joy and happiness. There is a renaissance.
For them, it is the circle of life.
Tom Vartabedian
http://www.hairenik.com/weekly/2009/0 9/28/vartabedian-heather%e2%80%99s-big-dance/
Sept ember 28, 2009
Take all the gold medals ever won at an AYF Olympics over the past
75 years and file them away for posterity. Nice to win one, but in
the real world it won't get you a job or give you your health.
A more tangible side might be the human emotion that often crops
up, not on a track or pool but inside a dance hall where the hordes
are gathered.
This is Providence and the usual plethora of dancers and revelers
turned out Sunday night for the traditional ball. When it came time
for the chapter dances, Greater Boston received the first nod for
finishing third.
The "Nejdehs" gathered in their circle and hot-footed it around
the dance floor. Out stepped their coach Ara Krafian with his arms
waving for a solo, beckoning for his wife. With crutch and all,
on came Heather to accommodate the crowd, and the two whirled and
twirled like a couple energized teeny-boppers.
Heather had much to celebrate on this evening, a long, arduous road
to rehabilitation from a disease that wracked her immune system over
the past three years. The gold medal her daughter Araxi secured in
the 200 earlier that afternoon was the best medicine any surgeon
could have prescribed.
In her very first Olympics, Araxi gave notice of her talent, adding
a couple silver medals around her neck. And there were three other
sisters who've been weaned in AYF circles. In time, the girls could
very well organize their own relay or-at the very least-impact a
scoring race.
As Heather danced, the crowd edged her on. Chants of "Go Heather! Go
Heather!" filled the room. It was her moment to enjoy the golden touch,
a moment she had envisioned for many months, ever since she became a
victim of Wegener's Granulomatosis, an uncommon disease that affects
1 in 25,000 people.
With the help of drugs, she had been in remission, only to suffer
a recurrence. Now, she was back on the track to recovery, there for
her daughters and never letting it interfere with their childhood.
"Some of us have crosses to bear, others just have heavier ones,"
she had told me. "I am not sure why mine has been so heavy. I can't
change the past but am looking for a better present and hope the
future will become even brighter. They say if you get lemons, then
make lemonade. I've been running my own lemonade stand. My glass is
always half full, not half empty. That's the optimist in me talking."
Wheelchair, walker, and crutches aside, here she was, doing her own
victory dance and leaving an indelible image in that hall. The smile
on her face stretched from ear to ear. Nothing else mattered much,
not the final score, another trophy, or another Olympics Cup.
A woman and her husband, both eternal AYFers, were hitting their stride
as parents, friends, one and all, kept cadence. Heather finished her
dance, like she had just finished an Olympic race. In a word: buoyant!
Next came Philly with its masses and the music played on. Young
and old, robust or otherwise, the "Sebouhs" did their chapter dance
justice. After retiring the cup a year ago, they pushed Providence
to the brink this year before falling at the end.
The "Varantians" had a championship to celebrate and out they romped
to their coveted "Hey Jon" and more miracles. Suddenly, out of her
wheelchair bolted Maro Garabedian Dionisopoulos with a gold medal
dangling around her neck as the recipient of a Varadian AYF Spirit
Award.
On one side was Dr. Louis Najarian with Yeretzgeen Joanna
Baghsarian on the other, giving her all the support she would ever
need. Music. Dancing. An emotional surge that took on a contagious
effect.
If Heather could get up and do her dance, Maro would not be denied as
the unremitting governess of the Providence chapter all these decades.
It reminded you of the movie "Cocoon" in which a group of infirmed
people jumped into a swimming pool and cured their ills. The dance
hall had turned into an Armenian Cocoon of sorts for the way it
rejuvenated this crowd.
Music has a redeeming quality. Just ask the people at this Olympics
Ball and you'll discover why. Ask the Heathers and Maros of our
generation and they will tell you that there is sustenance when people
gather in a circle and hold hands.
There is joy and happiness. There is a renaissance.
For them, it is the circle of life.