Tribute

Today would have been your 26th birthday… and all I can do is imagine what that would look like on you. I imagine you would be quite different from me though. I suppose by now you would have graduated with a degree in a field that allowed your extroverted self to shine through, maybe something along the lines of public relations. You were always the one that managed the home relations… Or you would have a degree in a field that allowed your nurturing nature to blossom, maybe some kind of medical field because you always had the stomach for things I did not, and a heart that cared far more than I dared to.

You were more caring, more thoughtful, and more fierce than I ever was. I imagine those could only be more defined traits of your character by now. Who knows, maybe you would even be married and a mom already, like some of your age-mates. That thought is not so far fetched given how much you loved and cared for all the kids in the neighborhood. I remember the anxiety I felt whenever mom made us visit a family with a newborn… I never knew how to hold them – mind you, I still don't know how to. You would always step in, carry them, and save me from the awkwardness of it all.

I know you would be fancy because you had a taste for elegance from a tender age… you always put so much care in the way you looked. You would probably have natural hair and be up to date with all the latest trends. I remember dreading the nightly braiding routine mom made us endure when we were younger…But you seemed to understand hair care then better than I do now. You would most definitely look like the young women I see out here confidently rocking looks that I would not dare try on… you were unconventional and daring like that. You would probably be giving me tips on hair and makeup. Most of all, you would be giving me advice that only a sister could give.

You were always different, perhaps even the better one. I hope to have a daughter some day, and I pray she gets your essence of style and joie de vivre. I pray she has patience where I don't, the same way you did. Above all, I pray she lives long enough to tell her grandchildren that she got it all from her auntie and not her momma.

Today I celebrate you, Emmanuella. I celebrate what your life was, and what it could have been. I hope Heaven throws a big party for you, a party worthy of your fine taste… until we meet again and can celebrate all the moments we have missed.