Emily Scarbrough, Friend, Mother, Aunt, Scholar & Global Positioning System
“Make a left here, Genia.”
I was driving down a rural street outside of Playas del Coco in Costa Rica with my Aunt Emily in the passenger seat and my dear friend Ruby in the back seat. We were at that inevitable point in a longish vacation where we were starting to get on each other’s nerves a bit.
As a savvy group traveler and group travel coordinator, I know exactly what to do in these situations. You walk away for a bit to create some breathing room and some time to find perspective. Generally, after that, the group can find a kind way to name and resolve the things that have come up, or the tense mood will pass.
In this case, the three of us were 15 minutes into a 4-hour car ride as a part of an all-day excursion. In other words, there was no way to get a breather. And, for some reason, Aunt Emily had taken to repeating all of the directions right after the GPS voice said them. So, the GPS had just said to make a left, two seconds before Aunt Emily said it. I had let it go for the first 15 minutes of the drive, but the thought of bearing it for another 3 hours and 45 minutes without a break set me off.
As kindly as I could muster from a place of white-hot rage, I asked my aunt to stop repeating after the GPS. She denied that she was doing it and became frustrated when Ruby corroborated my story. A few minutes later, Aunt Emily caught herself about to repeat after the GPS again. She stopped herself awkwardly and then said something along the lines of “Have I been doing that the whole trip?”
Somehow, thankfully, her sincere shock broke the tension. We laughed and then decided to engage in a ceremony that we called “The Airing of Grievances.” One at a time, we named how we were getting on each other’s nerves, using as many examples as possible. It was hilarious and cathartic. For the rest of that particular excursion and the trip overall, we were all in good spirits.
As much as my blood starts to boil when I recall that memory, I love this story for many reasons. First, the trip itself, which took place in October 2019, was full of adventures and unforgettable experiences, including ziplining over a rainforest, visiting beautiful beaches, and staying in a beautiful villa owned by a friend of mine.
The second reason I love this memory is that it is a story about friendship, and I love the fact that my aunt, Emily Scarbrough, was indeed a friend of mine. When she passed away last month, I lost a confidant, a counselor, a travel companion ... a true friend.
While we’d always had a good relationship, we became much closer when she relocated to the DC area from Reno, Nevada, about a decade ago. With a Ph.D. in chemistry and a background in drug research, she had moved across the country to accept a prestigious placement at the National Institutes of Health.
I was still living in the area at the time, so we would often go to dinner or a show. We talked about absolutely everything, including our childhoods, college years, marriages, divorces, family relationships, dating, work, health, finances, dreams for the future, everything! She offered a judgment-free listening ear but never shied away from giving me feedback or challenging me to think critically about my behavior or decisions.
At some point, I began to integrate her into my friend group, and she joined my Snow Angels travel club. Over time, she developed strong relationships with my friends that were independent of me. They also called her Aunt Emily or Aunt E, and she would often say, with a big smile on her face, “I don’t know when I acquired all of these nieces!”
Just days before she passed away, my brother, sister, and I called Aunt Emily on a 4-way video call to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day. It was a spur of the moment idea - we were not in the habit of calling her as a group. The conversation was great - we chatted and laughed. As always, she looked beautiful and excitedly told us about how she was on the verge of moving from the DC area to Boston for a new role. I don’t remember any other specifics from the conversation, but I know that we all said I love you at the end of the call because it is a family tradition. (Even for the briefest of check-ins, my family ends the call with a reminder and declaration of love.) But, even if she hadn’t heard me say it that day, she knew I loved her.
She also knew I was in awe of her. In addition to her Ph.D. and successful scientific career, she had been in the United States Air Force and was mother to a great man, my cousin Marvin Walker. More than anything, I was in awe of her ability to forgive and love people who had caused her harm despite their positive intentions. Aunt Emily embraced life and joy, and that made her magnetic. She showed up fully in every moment and encouraged me to do the same.
It’s hard to think of life without her. And, because we spent so much time together, there are reminders of her everywhere I turn. The good news is that every picture and memento remind me of how much she cared about me. I know that she was proud of me and wanted me to continue on this proactive self-discovery path. And so I will. And I can hear her voice urging me forward, like a GPS.
Harambee!
Genia Wright, Free Time Aficionado
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