Emma Whaley

February 29, 1991 - May 21, 2018

Age 27

"Emma was the sun. She was a bright light that shined on every single person she knew. She always told me she wanted to be like her late aunt Amelia. She wanted to be as gentle and brave and forgiving as her, and she was, but not in the same ways. Her gentle came in the form of conviction, wanting to bring everyone up with her. Her brave came in the form of stubbornness, stumbling forward through life but always managing to land on her feet. And she was forgiving, yes, but it had to be earned. 

You see, Emma knew her worth. No one had to tell her she was beautiful, or brilliant, or good. She already knew. And she wanted everyone else to see themselves in that good light too. She was Emma. Our Emma. My Emma.

She hated me when we first met. She hated me for my last name, for its reputation in our town. I hated it too. I hated myself too. But in long nights at the flower shop and afternoon Krispy Kreme runs, I saw that good light. We saw each other in a different light. It was like my whole life had come to that moment. To her. 

She taught me that forgiveness is warm. She showed me that names are just words and its people who give them meaning. She made the Whaleys good. I don't know what we're going to do now that she is gone, but I am better for having stood in her good light. I will miss her every day of my life and I will always love her.

I'll try to be the sun for you, babe."

- William Whaley, husband