Emma. My Baby. I Still Hurt

More time has passed. Emma is still gone. My heart still beats but doesn’t feel whole. My life is moving forward. I have Charlie (her brother) and Sky (her sister that she didn’t much like). I am a momma still to these two. My heart still beats with them. As they always will. As it still does with my little Emmy. It still beats for her. It always will. 

The mark she has left on my life. The lessons she taught me. The spirit she shared with me. The unconditional love she showed me through all stages of hardship and joy in my life. That dog was pure. Pure in every way you could ever want. I just feel so privileged to have been a part of hers. To be able to experience her spirit. She sure made my life better. With her gone, I feel it. I will always feel it. The space that is reserved forever for the most unique and beautiful souls I have had the grace to come in contact with. 

She was so unapologetically herself. Until the very end. She lived life boldly. She walked like she owned the world. She expressed her sensitivity in such a beautifully accepting way. She just was. She was fire and tenderness. She was tough and soft. She was stars in the sky and the grounded earth below. She was all of it. Always all of it. And I learned from her that being all of it is ok. She showed me that I could be sensitive. I didn’t always have to be strong. I wouldn’t be who I am without her. I don’t know who I will be now that I don’t have her. What I won’t learn from the years she was still supposed to have. 

I am heartbroken and grateful. I got 9 years. I only got 9 years. It’s such a double edged sword there. I wanted more. I will always want more. Time robbed us. And I am still trying to cope with that. 

Emma was there for me when I was still in my 11 year relationship. She was there for me when I told no one about the pain and the behind the scenes of that. She was there, knowing I was not ok, knowing I was curled up in a ball all day hiding in my room, knowing I was broken and continuing to break day by day. She knew when no one else did. She knew and she was there, by my side, being the soul that I needed to cling to. 

I sat with her on her last day and I whispered my thanks. I sat with her for the weeks leading up to her time and talked to her about all the things we have experienced together, all the things I am so grateful for. I told her my soul. She was going to take a piece of it with her. I wanted her to have it all. And she met me as she always did; just being there in all the ways I needed. 

It's hard to explain this fully. That I know she did things to take care of me. Even at the very end when I watched minute by minute as she slipped further away. She was always taking care of those she loved. And my ex, my dad and I were her people. And she took care of us. 

She passed away on her own terms before the vet could arrive at the house. She passed away about 10 minutes before they arrived. She passed away with the 3 of us and her brother in the room, circulating our love throughout. She made the decision. I truly believe she did that for us. I don’t look back at our time with her with guilt of making the wrong decision, the weight of being the person that said “now,” the horror of having her death sit on any of our shoulders. She released us from that. She did it. And she did it in such a beautiful way even though her death was not beautiful for us to watch. 

I watched my love go. I watched my heart break before my eyes. I watched her soul disappear out of a body that was no longer serving her, but a body I held so closely. And then I saw a body that was no longer her, that felt instantly foreign and unknown. And that hurt in such a different way. 

Again, this is all I have in me to share. Grief is such a hard thing, as it is supposed to be because it sure is the continuation of love. And I love that little girl to the universe beyond that we haven't even discovered yet. I think of her at this moment, and I picture her running through a meadow with her squirrel friends. I hope she is. A momma will always want her baby to be happy, and I have never seen her more alive than in her pursuit of the squirrel she always believed she would catch. To the squirrels, the morning eggs, the night cuddles, I hope wherever you are, the warmth and comfort of these things lives within you so fully you don’t feel anything else.