Reflections in Edmonton

Here I am, sitting alone in my friend Tara's wonderful guest room in Calgary and I'm still thinking about Edmonton.

You know how someone had once said that we can't know or appreciate happiness unless we have sadness? While I sort of agree, I don't think anyone needed this sadness.

It's an odd and sad coincidence to be so excited for a trip to see some friends in another part of the country only to hear the night before that a friend overseas tragically lost her life a few days prior.

I only knew Emma while I was working for the Publishing and Copy Centre at Queen's University. She was the life of the party though. She was the biggest Oilers fan I knew on campus and her laugh was infectious. She had boundless energy, especially when it came to her friends. Through Facebook, I found out she had a blog. Her personality very much shines through in her writing style, and I can't help but laugh at her posts, as if she's telling the stories in person.

But others knew her much better and I'm sure they are much more devastated than I will ever be. Still, I'm shocked and saddened by this event. It definitely changed my perspective of this trip, as I imprinted my own feelings over minute details of my flight to Calgary.

Leaving Toronto on a smoggy but bright sunny day, I arrive in Edmonton, her hometown, cloudy, with scattered rays of sunlight. A bittersweet atmosphere, it seemed. There'd were streaks of rain for brief moments, which felt as if the city itself was slowly mourning her. Oddly appropriate. On the flight, I walk by a mother and her baby, and think how Emma will never become a mother. While waiting for my connecting flight, I listen to retirees meeting and talking about traveling to destinations in Greece, fulfilling their lifelong dreams. What happens to Emma's dreams now? In the gift shop, they're replaying the Stanley Cup finals between the Oilers and the Carolina Hurricanes. What will the Oilers do without their #1 fan?

I would like to think that I'm not overdramatizing what I'm feeling. I would like to think that every so often, I will think of her and what her brief friendship meant to me. I would like to think that what I'm writing now is in someway meaningful.

But right now, I just don't want to think anymore. I don't want to think about a world where there isn't an Emma around to make someone laugh.