I suppose that the easiest way to summarize the way I see Emma is to compare her to the nectar from a flower. She's a sweet drink that brings joy to many without even realizing how big of an impact something as simple as her smile is. Many come and get something from her and she never can give enough of that love, joy, or sweetness.

Or perhaps she is the sweets that she bakes on those lonely nights where the rain pours and life is still. The sweet sugar on top that our daughter loves so. The attempts to whisper in Spanish that although butchered, warm my heart. As if I would be able to accomplish any different in Dutch.

My hands ache as I write this and my head spins, but the bleak world deserves to know the beauty of the woman I married. I wrote one of these for my daughter, but now I write one of these for the love of my life.

Emma is nothing like a jewel. She's not something you want to buy or show off. She's a flower like a gladiolus. She is beautiful and you admire her, letting her light up the room and add life to the world. She holds sweetness that the bees seek and the beauty that queens and kings spent years searching for. But unlike the typical rose or white lily, she is strong, determined, and honorable. You don't just compare Emma to any flower for all that she can be gladiolus.

But to compare her to only a flower robs from the beauty of what she is. She brings life the way the sun does. Her little facts that she spills and the unapologetic laughter that pours from her lips. Those vibrant eyes that carry the forests of the world and shine with all the beauty and love that any man could desire in life.

She is more than the nectar that the bees collect, she is their honey too. She brings not only them life but life to the animals and the people who touch her golden love. Emma dances like the rays of the light she carries. A simple spin and she has captured your heart in all the warmth she radiates. Something as simple as her smile when you tell her something stupid makes your heart melt to the floor and robs you of all your senses. Even the gentle touch she gives when she comforts you and wipes away your tears convinces your mind that she has a halo and wings. Nothing loves or cares the way Emma does.

She is the gold that men destroyed civilizations for. A man would kill to touch her blonde curls. But the wonderful thing about Emma is that she does not desire that. Any man who attempts to hurt anyone in the name of love for her faces the fire and anger she holds back. She is a protector and defender of the small. Any woman who dares defame another to win her love finds themselves begging for her mercy.

Even her fury is something that people can do nothing but stare at in awe. She wraps around you like a vine and swipes you of the anger you held and the vanity you caged leaving you a sobbing mess at the realization that you have lost the most valuable thing in the universe.

Musicians write about a love like the one she gives. None of them could have come close to writing about what it is. Even I cannot manage to string together the words to describe the neverending loving bestowed upon me by her.

Emma loves like a hurricane and feels like a storm. You are not hurt but you are washed over all at once with the kindness in her heart and purity in her actions. Even her silly jokes, the dirty ones, the clean ones, the stupid ones, they hold a pure form of love nobody could ever imagine feeling.

I tell you, wise men and women. There is not a beauty in this world that compares to her. The way she gently strokes my cheek when I fail to mix something properly and the soft sugary taste of her lips when she laughs and throws flour at me. I am in a world beyond this one where nothing bad can exist because Emma breathes.

There is perfection is the dusted sugar over the treats she bakes that people cannot get enough of. I met her through these treats. Though baking brings her little success in life, it has brought her nothing but joy. The stars shine in her eyes when she find a new recipe and even when she is simply baking the same cookie for the millionth time.

People have asked how I could have fallen for a baker so poor. They ask how we live in our small home with our daughter and our weary old furniture. Though we are not rich, she brings me wealth wherever I go. What on Earth do I need an expensive sofa for? Why does my house need to shine? Emma is much more important than any fancy furniture. I prefer to walk in to her covered in ingredients from her baking than to buy a couch far more expensive than what I need to be content. I am one man, what on Earth do I need that for?

There is something about the way she struggles with her Spanish but still manages to sound more romantic and gentle than anyone else in the world could kill me on the spot. The way she presses sweets to my lips with that smile on her face. The way she spins and dances to the most ridiculous of songs. Emma is a love that mankind does not deserve.

This is not to say we don't argue. I can name a few nights off of the top of my head where we yelled and that calm anger was nowhere to be seen. It often ended in one or both of us crying on the couch. We are human and even the finest of gold and the most perfect of flowers and I met an argument in our life. But we always solved it. That is what I loved about her.

God blessed her with the gift of hearing and she used it to listen. God blessed me to have someone I would listen to. Lord knows I am a foolish man and one of many errors. I am a selfish fool who thinks only of himself. Yet, Emma looks at me with those eyes of wonder and care and I feel as if I am a man clean of his sins.

We sit there for as long as we need, figuring out the route to solving our disagreements. In the end, we always do and we learn for the next time something similar rises up from the depths of our minds. Emma afterward always does the same thing; she will name five things she adores about me so that I know that no matter the quarrel, she sees beauty in me.

And for that, I scream to the Lord because why of all men, did I deserve her? Emma is a beauty and will always be a beauty that no human deserves to know, but I have been blessed to hold her, kiss her, and love her with all the love a poor immigrant such as I can.

"You are brave," she whispers and kisses my head.

"You are passionate," she says and wipes my tears away.

"You are strong," she tells me while pushing my hair from my face

"You are proud," she says and the Heavens part.

"You love me."

I love her. Yes. That can never be argued. I love Emma. She is a hummingbird that you paint on the grey days where all joy seems to be lost. She is the nimble cat who carries a type of love that few understand but protects you nonetheless. Emma is the oceans that people fear and worship. She is the envy of Aphrodite for her soul is just as beautiful as her outer appearance.

The Lord saw such a love to be given to those who need it and when my wife found she could not bear a child for us, she picked herself up without a single tear and sought one to bring home.

My daughter, my life, my love, my darling Michelle. She carries the compassion of her mother. I recall bringing her home and the way Emma shone just looking at her. There has never been a love as there was in her eyes when she brought that child home.

Our daughter bakes almost as well as her mother. She learns so quickly and she holds that passion so dear. I attempted to teach her painting once but she ran off to cover herself in flour and sugar just like her mother. She truly will carry the love her mother does.

I am glad for I could not bear the thought of her carrying the embodiment of who I am, who I was, and who I will soon become. My Michelle is much better than that and her mother will guide her when I no longer can. I know that Emma will. She takes pride in her daughter and I have never seen a mother encourage a child the way she does. She kept every dandelion, she cherished every drawing, she hugged me close when we saw her grow into a beautiful, intelligent, free-spirited woman just as her mother. And perhaps she is only fifteen, but I know she is going to be a strong woman like her mother who loves freely and lives boldly.

That is who Emma is. She is the fire that many hate for she embraces her delicateness and her gentle heart within her strength. She does not fear to weep and she does not fear to be who she has always been.

She is the love that humanity wants to destroy, but nothing could ever rid the world of all the love she has given.

Emma is sublime.

She is the power that shakes me to my core and leaves me helpless as I gaze up at her in awe. She is the beauty that men fear because she is so grand and a simple breath from her could destroy an army. Emma is divine; the saints tremble when she walks across the floor. The simple bounce of her hair against her chin shook the Earth and for that, I aimed to always make her feel as sublime as she was for she was the incomprehensible power and fear that fills me with love, divinity, and terror all at once. Her grandeur has sent me to my knees for she is the step away from leaping into the endless ocean that God filled with absolute magnificence but eternal mystery hidden in the shadows.

I fear not drawing the wrath of a man who always screams and threatens me but drawing the wrath from a kindhearted one. Her kind heart has never allowed anyone a peek at her pure rage and thus I am left wondering what power some with a heart like that holds.

Still, she is the rivers that flow through my country and fill the land with lush greens. She is clear and full of life that people spend their lives attempting to comprehend. She is the gentle sway of the winds and the beauty of the night. She is the silk from my costumes that I stitch with care. No matter what work I do or what patterns I sew, it will never do her the justice she deserves for a beauty like that.

The only thing on this Earth that could ever begin to compare to the beauty spun from her fingers and the laughter weaved from her words is the creations she has brought into the world. The sweetness of the cakes we have shared seems to hold the secrets of her gentle heart. The soft bites and lingering taste of melting flavors fall only just meet the way she fills the people around her with warmth and the feeling of love as if they had experienced being loved for the first time. Anyone walks into the warmth of her bakery and feels as if they have known her many years.

Emma carries the love of the winds that gently push the bird in the air and the delicate touch of snowflakes on those winter days. She is the song of the birds in the morning and the sweet taste in my bread in the mornings. There is no beauty in this world I don't see differently because of her. The strokes of a painting and words in a song are all more vivid and different because of the light she shines. Even the skitters of insects on my arm when we're both in bed in our worn down home sound like a symphony of life because I can see the world with her.

She has a soul that cannot be tethered and I have seen many people try. They have bruised her with their iron grips in an attempt to chain her spirit. They cut into her arms and legs with their vanity. But my darling Emma, she cannot be tamed nor does she belong to anyone. She is a kind spirit who fights to be her own. I would never tie something so free down. She is the beauty of individuality and works to keep such a thing alive in others around her.

I have kissed her many nights, her blonde hair laying on our beat up bed with broken springs and stains from coffee over the years. Her blonde curls pressed against my messy brown hair on quiet days. The whispers of French and Dutch from her while we thought about our lives and where they would go. The way she would cradle our child in her arms and sing to us both. I can still hear the sweet sound of her voice that sends the sparrows into a fit of envy. I The sweet taps of creme, jams, sugar, and chocolate to her lips at night. My Emma, my darling Emma. Michelangelo and DaVinci would have fought to paint the beauty she radiates.

Even the sweetest desserts on this Earth made by the finest chefs have no justice for what she does. Heaven itself cannot possibly carry something so sweet as the desserts that she makes. I will surely miss her while I wait for her to join me and continue to bring love that the Lord himself will be in awe of.

Perhaps the future was too much or her love too good. The sugary sweet kisses she pressed to my lips and the lullabies she sang to our daughter every night. The nights of dancing together to silly music and the days we would spoil each other with extra money. The ice cream we tapped on each others' noses and the beauty of Emma's laugh that left me wondering if I had departed already. I suppose it was too much love and perfection for the world. Whatever led to the Lord deciding our fate, I accept it. But Emma is a flower, the sun, the sky, the wind, the ocean, and everything I admire in the world. She is the strokes of my paintbrush and the strums in my guitar. She is the icing on the cakes we bake for each other on our birthdays and the roses she decorates everything with.

My darling, I have never been able to give her much. I am but a poor man. I cannot give her riches or fancy dresses. I could never buy her the coats we see or the makeup her friends have; I can only afford what we have now.

But what are riches when she exists? She has loved me always.

Even now, her tears are but another gift of her love.

I give her my last words here. Emma darling of mine, I am grateful to have met you.

Amor de mi vida. Siempre te amaré.

You have given me a fulfilling life and though the wrath of time falls upon me, I use my energy to write these words. The rain stopped pouring and the sun is shining much like you. I can hear your laughter and you telling me that all of this will be okay.

I wish I had done better for you. You deserved much more than I could have given you in this life. You are my breath of life and you are my Eden. I hold you close and cling to the sweet smell of your perfume that fades. I press kisses to your face that I wish I had kissed a million times more.

It was not in God's plan for me to obtain a love like yours forever. But still, I am grateful for every moment we spent together and the child you brought us home to raise though we had little to offer in wealth.

You gave me a family and a world that I will always think of. Our daughter will grow to be as kind and compassionate as her mother. I know that she will grow strong. Her beautiful heart will touch others just as yours and she will one day give someone the love, whether a friend or a lover, that you have given me. I know that you will rise and soar through the skies, mi amor. You will always be the most perfect dream.

Cariño, you are everything beautiful in the world.

You brought sweetness into my life and touched my world with it.

My words are running out and I can feel myself fading away.

I suppose the Lord is calling me to him.

Do not weep.

Do not let our daughter weep.

I will wait for you both here at the gates of Heaven.

I will give you a sugary sweet kiss as I have always done.

Don't rush to get here.

I'm patient.

I want you both to thrive.

Become a famous baker. Share that passion. Live life as it was meant to be lived.

Be free.

Be sweet.

Be you.

Te amo E-