Lapin and Me.

Last week one of my best friends, Emily Brown, passed away leaving such a gaping hole in so many people’s lives, including my own.

The only reason any of my written work exists is because of the encouragement of friends, and Emily was one of the biggest encouragers I had. She was such a special person in my life who always believed in me, but tragically not always in herself.

Emily was such an inspiration to me. Though every word I’ve written since we met is my own, her influence weaves through every consonant and every vowel, crossing every t and dotting every i. She used to think my ranting and complaining was hilarious to the point where I should write things down. This is how my blog began; 131 posts later and here we are.

The silly little illustrations attached to the majority of my articles are inspired directly by her also. We used to draw silly little cartoons together quite a lot, making up dumb characters or little comic strips. Before I left for the UK she gave me a massive hand-drawn picture filled with all her little drawings of the pair of us as rabbits. It is one of my most prized possessions along with everything else she made me.

But it’s not just my writing that is influenced by her. Since knowing Emily I have never been the same. She loved me and cared about what I had to say. She challenged me and gave me new perspectives on life. She would constantly encourage and inspire me; she always has and she always will. Emily just made life a whole lot brighter, even in the darkest of times.

I met Emily on a Sunday morning many years ago. It was a seemingly innocuous meeting, a simple introduction through friends, but the impact of it would be something that would last beyond a lifetime.

Emily and I have been close ever since that very first meeting, and the memories I have of her will be treasured by me forever. At the time she was studying English modules as part of her overall teaching degree and as I had a degree in the subject I offered to help her study for one of her upcoming exams.

I still remember the day I went over to her house after football training thinking she was revising for a ‘History of English’ exam when in fact it was actually just a history exam rendering me completely useless to her. But we had fun regardless, we spent more time messing with the piano and talking about the most ridiculous things than we did studying. She bought me a Turkish Delight, of course I couldn’t eat it and she must have apologised over a hundred times for buying me something. That was just how she was.

I remember that night as if it were yesterday. I stupidly locked my keys in my own car, meaning I had to walk home then return the following day to collect it. “I know your game Andy, you just wanted to come round today to see me,” she said to me as I embarrassingly opened my car door with the spare key, “most people leave something like a wallet behind, you leave your whole bloody car!”

The next time I was round I left my wallet behind.

It didn't take long for us to end up together and we grew ever closer. She was more than that though, she was family; she was the sister I never had. And now I’ve lost her.

Emily was one of the most talented people I have ever met in my lifetime. She used to say that I had a true talent, but in truth I would settle for just half of the talent she possessed. Emily was a vibrant singer, a talented musician, a brilliant artist and an excellent writer. She really was a true talent; the most talented person I’ve ever met.

I have fond memories of listening to her perform songs she had written and breathe new life into those she hadn’t. She had an amazing singing voice that lingers in your mind for days after you’d heard it. I used to love reading her songwriting and her stories and seeing all the paintings she’d created over the years. So intelligent, so creative; the woman was quite simply a genius.

Emily was the one of the most kind-hearted people in the world. To find a human who is truly selfless is a rare trait to find, but nobody can deny she had it. She would do anything for anybody, no matter what it was or the time of day, she’d do it without batting an eyelid. There were many who took advantage of her kindness, which annoyed me so much. She gave so much to everyone and she deserved the same, if not more, in return. She was one of the most caring people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

Since I have been diagnosed with Crohn’s disease I have developed the uncanny knack of hiding my pain from the view of others. Few people have ever seen through me but Emily was one of them. She knew when I was in pain, I don’t know how, but something gave it away to her while simultaneously fooling all others. The support she has given me throughout the hardships of my illness has been totally invaluable to me. I don’t know where I’d be without her.

I have so many great memories of my time with Emily. There was the time we went to the zoo and did the voices for all the animals as if they were all in a sit-com; those times we got covered in acrylic when we attempted to paint together; or when at the local car-wash both of us ended up cleaner than the car…

I remember once when we carried an art exhibition across the city together drawing more than a few funny looks from passers-by. That was for a job by the way, we weren’t nicking off with it. Honest.

We’d do spontaneous things like go out for dinner at 3am, or go running (not very far) down the coastline, eventually ending up in a café gasping for breath and drinking lemonade, admittedly not at 3am.

She used try and teach me how to beat-box every now and again though she usually ended up giving up and we’d just drink tea, watch My Neighbor Totoro or play each other at Mario Kart for a bit. She was such a joy; I’ll never forget that wonderful moment when at a fancy birthday party we got the band to play the Super Mario theme.

So many great memories, each of which brings a beaming smile to my lips.

We were inseparable and even when we were apart for periods of time our companionship never faulted. Not a day went by where we didn’t talk about something, be it over the internet, texts or on the phone. 

Every now and again we’d send each other bits of stories for the other to carry on, this would go on for weeks on end, and most stories ended up unfinished with some so bizarre they were better left that way. It was always a highlight of the day to find an email from her in my inbox.

Sometimes she would send me a text message in the middle of the night just to say “Hello Andy!” or “I read your blog!” or “You’re probably asleep!” They were such an inconvenience, but they were always appreciated. I will miss them greatly.

The thought of sending her a text but getting no reply; the thought of calling her phone but getting no answer; the thought of sending her an email but never getting a response; the thought of never being able to see her face again breaks my heart.

Emily, you touched every single person you came across in life, you were such a bundle of joy and you never failed to make me smile. You made more of an impact on this Earth in the short time you were on it than most people would be able to muster in 10,000 years. You made me the man I am today, and for that I am forever grateful.

Emily, I will miss you more than words could ever begin to describe. I pray that you’re happy and hope that someday I’ll see your smiling face again.

Andy