Missing you

Emma Rose Pinedo

It will be 4 years at the end of this month.

4 long, hard, painful years without you. I’ve missed you quite a lot, but I know you’re in a great place.

You know at first, I was shocked. I mean I’m still shocked. I feel like I could just walk two blocks down and ask to borrow your textbook, and you would without hesitance let me use it. Or maybe go trick-or-treating together. Simple things, things we would do.

I remember the last thing we said to each other. We were walking home from school, like we did everyday, and you were laughing and whipping your long, gorgeous hair around, like you did often. That week, I let you borrow a Tupperware container for a cooking class we had together. You yelled “I’ll give it back Monday, it’s in my locker!”, I replied “Okay, sounds good! See you Monday, have a good weekend.”

Little did I know, that Tupperware container that was never returned to me would mean so much.

I think it was Sunday I was told, one day after you passed. My parents didn’t know how I would respond, so they waited. I didn’t know how to respond. I think I sat in the same position for 20 minutes, too shocked to move, asking again and again if they were serious. But you were gone regardless of my disbelief.

Monday came. School. The second I entered, my 7th grade brain went blank. As a 7th grader I didn’t know how to deal with someone being gone. Just being absent for maybe a day or two had me worried, but never coming back made me frightened and frustrated. Every single thing I looked at that day brought me back to you.

The halls were quiet. The classes were serious. Tears filled up eyes. You touched lives of people who didn’t even know you. It became real. And I just wanted to go home and cry in my room, begging for you back.

They had counselors and therapists for three days at school. I’m pretty positive I went every day, and maybe beyond those few. Having all our friends together supporting each other and celebrating your eternal life and cherishing the time we spent with you really did help. But the grieving process is hard no matter what steps you take to get through.

I thought as time passed it would get easier, and after a while it did. But it took time, and a lot of it. Things still trigger back to October 30, 2010 though.

One day we’ll be together again, I can’t wait. But while you were here I wish I would have thanked you. You were a real joy in my life. Your positive energy, your optimism, your kind heart for every person and animal, and your enormous smile brightened up any room. I wish I wouldn’t have taken our walks home from school for granted. I wish we could have walked slower, I could have listened more. But I’m forever thankful for the memories I have shared with you.

Sometimes when I cook, see anything relating to Twilight, or smell roses, it still reminds me of you and the things you loved. You are my constant reminder of being thankful for the time we spend with people, and how we need to tell them more often how much we appreciate them… they may never know.

I love you a whole lot Emma. Keep dancin’ with both your Daddy and your Heavenly Father up in Heaven. Rest in peace, love. ❤