Emi had never felt sadness around Christmas time, but this year she did. Her parents was sad, she could tell. And her Aunt and Uncle and cousins were even sadder. She’d never been to a funeral before, but Christmas Eve had given her this first experience. It was far from pleasant. In fact, she hoped she never had to go to another funeral again. She remembered the man who died. Sort of. He was in pictures from her birthday party years ago, along with his wife and his baby who wasn’t a baby anymore.
Emi wanted to ask all day how he died. She knew that people died if they got really sick. That’s why she’d been afraid when Elia was so sick and couldn’t breath. But the man… he wasn’t sick. It was late on Christmas night when Emi was lying in bed, unable to fall asleep. She finally got out of bed and went to the room where her parents were sleeping, but they weren’t there. In the main room, she found them, cuddled up on the floor next to the little Christmas tree they’d all set up last minute. “Mummy? Daddy?” Startled, both of her parents sat up and looked at Emi. Immediately, her mother called to her, “Oh what are you doing out of bed? Come here.” She held her arms open to her. Emi approached them and squeezed in between them, snuggling up under the blankets on the floor. Her mummy seemed sadder than her daddy. Her eyes were all puffy, so Emi had second thoughts about asking. Instead, she hugged her and said, “I had a good Christmas. Thank you for the gifts.” She smiled at her and at her daddy. Then after a while she got up and asked, “Can daddy tuck me in?” Her daddy smiled at her and took her hand, leading her to the bedroom that she was sharing with Angelo. He was sleeping soundly in the other bed. As her daddy tucked her in, she said, “Daddy? Promise me you won’t die.”
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It had been a weird week. With her baby sister being rushed to the hospital and then the mask Elia had to wear over her mouth and nose for 10 minutes every night to breathe in medication, everyone was still getting used to things. Emi had been so afraid when they had to leave Elia at the hospital. she had spent hours worrying about her sister. She’d asked her daddy if it was possible for Elia to die. After all, Elia was having problems breathing and didn’t humans need to breathe to stay alive?
Days and days went by, though, and while before, Elia mostly cried or was sick, these days she was saying more words than ever. Emi giggled every time she heard Elia’s squeaky little voice calling her. “Emi. Emi. Eh-meee!” It was just so cute and funny and it made her feel loved. Now, even as she was in her bedroom, reading a book, she was hearing Elia’s voice outside of her door. “Ehhhhhmeeeeeee!” Emi giggled and opened the door. Elia wrapped her tiny arms around Emi’s legs and squeezed tightly. Hiieeee!” she exclaimed. “Hi,” said Emi before lifting her. She could get used to this new, happier Elia. |
Emilia at a glanceNames: Emilia Paris van Loon Archives
April 2017
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