Reclaiming Emma I

The warning, or perhaps it was a gentle admonition, had come over a year too late,  “Don’t forget who you are. Don’t forget where you come from.”  She already had, not exactly forgotten, but buried it all deep inside her heart where no one could get to it. 

When she first arrived in Bree, she had opened the door to that place in her heart, just a little just enough to show a few hints of who she was, but she quickly found it overwhelming, remembering was too painful and she slammed the door shut.  She went back to the strategy she had employed for survival in Dunland, making herself into whatever those around her expected her to be.  It was not so much a conscious choice as a survival reflex. 

On multiple occasions she tried again to open that door, each time with the same result the weight of what was behind it was crushing.  She was in a strange place, with strange people.  Nothing familiar to hold on to.  Although these new people cared for her and tried to help her, adapting to yet another place and the realities of it consumed her energies and the memories she needed to find herself again remained buried as she tried to navigate a new life and accept that the old one was gone.

“Don’t forget who you are.”  Those words would not leave her. They echoed in her mind, often in her most vulnerable moments.  She did not want to forget and she searched for a safe time and place to remember.  She made foolish choices. She clung to people. She ran away from people and hid. She pushed recklessly forward. She fell backwards. She wanted to feel strong and alive yet she could not find the safety she craved, that she believed she needed in order to find her strength again.

Through time and conversations with many of her friends Emma finally came to understand and accept two things.  First, the safety she was looking for had never really existed, it had only been a feeling. Because if it had existed she would still be at home in Rohan.  Second, that she wouldn’t ever be able to just open that door, It would always be too overwhelming and the only way she was going to reclaim herself was if she was willing to take the time to work through the emotions of all of those memories, the joy and happiness, the heartache and loss, the fear and uncertainty.

It was almost by accident that Emma started the process.  She found a quiet moment to slip away from the activity of the group.  For once she did not even take Bansil with her, but instead walked away alone to the fields full of flowers not far from Herne.  At first, she intended only to take a walk, drawn to the color and beauty of the flowers. 

The beauty of a lazy sunny afternoon called to her and she answered.  She lay on her back and looked up into the bright blue of the sky with the white clouds floating like ships sailing the sea.  When her mind drifted to a memory she instinctively started to push it back down, but then stopped.  She let the memory come.  She was a child at play with her grandmother.  They lay in a field and watched the clouds as they talked and found different shapes in the clouds, a bear, a heart, a frying pan.

From there her mind wandered through several more memories,  flour battles in the kitchen while making bread, charades with her grandmother and brothers, dancing with her grandmother, the comfort her grandmother provided during her childhood sorrows. Her grandmother was always her rock, the one she drew strength from. The joy of the memories mingled with the pain of the loss.  Emma realized that perhaps this was the way to move forward, not opening the door wide to let everything flood out, but intentionally taking out the memories one at a time.

The sound of hoofbeats along the road broke her from her reverie and she waited for them to pass but instead of passing, they stopped not far from her location.  She waited for a little bit, but when the rider stayed, she got up and found a friend nearby and for the first time in over two years she talked about her grandmother.