"Mommy, I promise to love you one-thousand years.
So long as I live that long. Now, you BETTER hug me!"
-Naomi
Emma our gerbil died.
Emma landed at the McKibbin house at the close of a difficult time in my marriage. Having lived separately for many months McKibbin and I finally, finally found some good footing. Naomi was reluctant, though, to part with a living arrangement which provided her with two rooms, two sets of toys, and the undivided attention of her accompanying parent everywhere she went. Smart kid.
Stumped by the reconciliation-reluctant 4 yr. old, McKibbin and I agreed to purchase a family pet. We built an affirmative case for moving-back-in-together based on the merits of McKibbin’s ample pet keeping skills. After a colorful negotiation around our dinner table weighing the the various pet options we agreed to purchase a gerbil.
McKibbin and Naomi trotted off to PETCO as I went to church one Sunday. We marched back through the front door with the newest member of our family in tow. Naomi was quick to name her Emma. We were never certain what inspired the name. Emma wasn’t the namesake of an acquaintance, favorite storybook character, or family member. It was like Naomi plucked it out of thin air, Emma, but the decree was absolute and no one dared to question it. She was a noisy little thing (Emma) who stayed up all night. She preferred sunflower seeds and her gerbil wheel to everything else on the planet. Anytime your finger was within reach Emma was quick to nibble on it.
The sudden occurrence of Emma’s death this weekend conjured a vivid memory of the morning she entered our lives. The giddy little dance Naomi did in the dining room. The way Emma scampered up to and around McKibbin’s collar. The awkward and excited giggle-fit we shared. All of us a little nervous and trying very hard not to be.
McKibbin’s cardboard boxes followed Emma through the door in short order. I wasn't sure Naomi had noticed the boxes. I remember staring at Naomi, wondering if this was one of those moments I needed to step up as a mother. Help her process what was happening. Naomi interrupted my inner discussion to suggest we shave off one of the cardboard flaps so Emma could chew on it. I said she should ask her dad that question. From there things got a little easier.
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4 comments:
So sorry that Emma passed away. She had a really great life, and kids have such resilency in times of sorrow that it never ceases to astonish me. (It's we the so-called adults that fall apart!) Take care.
stinteresting....our new puppy's name is emma, and the name was pinned on her in much the same way. we drove to grand island to get her, all the way there throwing names around ('Emma was not among the thrown names), and i think aly and i both had our favorites, but once we got her, and we on the way home, aly said, "I think her name is Emma." I said, "I think you're right." and it was done. very strange those Emma's and how they come to be called as such.
My condolences.
-shawn
i don't know what stinteresting means.....my fingers do what they do.
i meant interesting of course....
Thanks, guys. We'll definitely miss Ms. Emma both for the quirky pet she was and the dicey moment she smoothed.
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