Still Emma

Dear Emma,

8 years ago, on a snowy New Year’s Eve Eve evening, I distinctly remember a quiet moment when it was just me and you in our semi-private hospital room. Appa had just run out to pick up McDonald’s for dinner. You were born just hours ago and you were lying down, cuddled up, skin to skin, heartbeat to heartbeat, close to my chest. I could feel your tiny warm body, inhaling, exhaling, and taking in every single life-giving breath. It was in that very moment, I took a deep breath and felt an overwhelming sense of peace like never before. It’s as if time had stood still and it was just me and you. I took it all in and I promised myself that I would never forget that brief, but life-giving moment.

The following days were also some of my most cherished days. In the middle of a cold and long winter, I loved our quiet moments at home when it was just me and you. Appa would be out with your busy two-year old sister. You, on the other hand, were our calm two-week-old, spending your early days cozied up in our bed. The sun would shine through the window, casting upon you a warm and angelic glow. I would just cuddle up with you and admiringly look at you all day.

There was always this sense of peace with you which I adored since day one. While Zoey was energetic and loud, you balanced her out with your serene, soft yet secure demeanor. You even survived a few hits from her, but as you grew, you would prove to be tough not by hitting back but instead by standing up for your big sister by pushing a girl twice your size who was picking on her. I felt an overwhelming feeling of pride like I’ve never felt before and I promised that I would try not to bring up and boast about that moment too much.

Happy 8th birthday, my sweet and strong, gangster bunny, Emma. You continue to surprise me yet amuse me with your caring yet “I don’t care” ways. It’s what I’ve always admired and adored about you. Since our first night together, I’ve always just felt secure around you. It’s like your presence is a warm hug in the middle of a long and cold winter season. It’s probably why I feel overly protective of you. Even in your “I don’t care” gangster mode, all it takes is one hug for your compassion, affection and bright spirit to shine through and make my heart glow.

Lately, every night I tuck you in, you’ve been asking me to sleep with you. Just wanting time to myself, I would always say I’ll come back later just so you would go to bed. When Appa and I check up on you after you’ve fallen asleep, we would find you on one side of the bed because you would leave the other side for me. You would even be sleeping without your pillow because you left it for me.

Finally, on the night of your birthday, I snuck into your bed just before you fell asleep and I cuddled up beside you. This time I lay my big head on your chest and all I could hear was your fast yet soothing heartbeat. All was calm, all was bright in the still of the night as a comforting sense of peace blanketed your bedroom. I admiringly looked at you with the same adoring eyes 8 years ago, as your breaths became slower and you sweetly fell asleep. After a long day, year, and even after all these years, your warm and comforting presence reminds me that everything is going to be okay.

And in the stillness, you are still Emma.

Through and through. Heartbeat to heartbeat.

J