TV with Em from Phil

Emily and I watched a lot of TV together. Often, it was incredibly bad TV – awful reality shows on Bravo or VH1. Nothing that either Emily or I would ever really watch on our own. We didn’t watch them because we loved Flava Flav (though, who doesn’t?) or we wanted to meet America’s Next Top Model. We watched those shows mainly as fodder for conversation – wonderfully critical, brilliantly funny banter that helped us pass the time.

Sometimes, of course, we watched TV with other friends, too, and it was great fun then because the conversation was faster, the jokes more plentiful, and the laughter that much louder. In the last few months with Emily, though, I began to love the time we spent just the two of us even more, and for a lot of that time I have Paige to thank.

Paige is the one who sent Emily the first season of Lost on DVD. I happened to be around when Emily decided to start watching. She asked me if I wanted to get in on that, and I stayed. We both got hooked, and from then on watching Lost was something that Emily and I did. We’d have mini-marathons on Saturdays and squeeze in an episode or two on weekday nights. Pretty soon we were through the first and second seasons.

When it was time to watch the third, we were put to a decision. Because we were so ambitious, we finished the first two before Season 3 was released on DVD. Waiting the extra month would be torturous, so we downloaded the episodes. Soon enough we had a projector set up in Em’s bedroom so we could watch Lost on her wall. It was good timing, really, since Em wasn’t getting out of bed much by then.

Watching Lost, too, let us just be. It came at a time when the conversation had slowed a bit and rest was a little more important for Em. I liked watching Lost with her then because I knew it was relaxing for her, and because it helped me feel good, too.

Maybe I'm focusing so closely on those times just watching TV with Em right now because they’re still so recent, so connected to her time of illness, so fresh in my memory. But more likely they’re my favorites because they were times I had with just Emily.

So in a very selfish way, it makes me proud to remember that Emily and I had something that was just ours – that among all her wonderful friends, with whom she shared so many stories and jokes and adventures, she had a little time to spend with just me.

from Mahalia

I met Emily at karaoke at O'Cool's in Fall of 2006. Instantly, I thought her awesome because she was such a fun-loving, funny person who was clearly intelligent, yet did not take herself or the karaoke too seriously. She was the kind of person who could make you feel all at once at ease and delighted. Her personality just sparkled with that Windex shine (and occasionally the Pinot Grigio). My clearest Emily karaoke memory takes place at a little dive bar in Grifton.

That night a bunch of people: Joe, Townsley, Will, Me, Phil, Emily, Sue, Missy, Kate and Bob, had all gone out to eat at Fajitas. Earlier that day I had bought bunch of fake mustaches at Hot Topic. I wore one to dinner and following dinner, offered mustaches to everyone. Most of the guys, having facial hair already, declined, but Missy, Townsley and Emily were totally in. Emily's mustache was called 'The grandpa' and it matched her gray shirt perfectly. We went to the Eagle's Nest and had some fun until our mustaches started to get sweaty and fall off. Emily then had the ingenious idea of putting hers on her wine glass. We talked about what a great idea this would be for a product, a kind of funny take on a wine glass charm. I don't really know why this particular memory is coming to mind, I suppose I just remember being like, 'Wow, this Emily is sure fun and full of great ideas and looks super adorable in a fake mustache.' And I guess that's how I'll always remember her.

Emily's Karaoke Super Hits:

"Let's Hear it for the Boy" - Denise Williams

"Because of You" - Kelly Clarkson

"Walking on Sunshine" - Katrina and the Waves

"Message in a Bottle" - The Police

"Manic Monday" - The Bangles

"Gold Digger" - Kanye West

"Yeah" - Usher (just kidding, this song was too hard!)

"Crazy in Love" - Beyonce

"Papa Don't Preach" - Madonna

"Hey Mickey" - Toni Basil

"Angel" - Shaggy

"Pour Some Sugar on Me" - Def Leopard

from Mike

After Skip died, everyone was left with gaping empty spaces in some of the most important parts of our routines. Skip's grilling remains a thing of legend, and sitting with him while he grilled had become one of my favorite ways to relax. In his absence, I became the grill cook, struggling to provide the delicious meals the Brights have lived on.

I never disliked sitting outside grilling alone, but I would always watch out of the corner of my eye, or the corner of my beer, for the side door to open, because I knew the first person to join me on the swing under the tree would be Emily. She usually carried, as if you didn't know, a glass of red wine. I think most of us enjoy stories of Emily being monkey-funny and pink-tasseled-roller-skate crazy, but my favorite memories of Emily are in the swing under the tree. No stories. No humor. Just talking about stuff. I always felt like I had Emily's support there, like whatever I said, and whatever I cooked, would be okay with her. So all we did was talk, or not talk, there.

The next time I grill at Judy's house, I'm sure I will still be watching for the door to open.

from Jamie C.

My favorite Emily story takes place in Charleston, South Carolina. Emily planned a fabulous bachelorette weekend for Kerri the spring before Kerri and Mike got married. I had the privilege of riding with Emily from Chapel Hill to Charleston. You can imagine there wasn't a silent moment during that car ride! Emily took thoughtful care to make sure that we ate at a fabulous restaurant and enjoyed plenty of spirits! The second night, most of us were tired from the night before and not quite as energetic as the night before — except Emily. She took full advantage of an empty dance floor and Mary J. Blige's "No More Drama" blaring at the bar. She danced like she was the only one in the room, pointing at Kerri and getting her knees all kinds of dirty! I loved it. I admired her energy and confidence. I was already a huge Emily fan before that trip, but after that, I totally wanted to be the president of her fan club!

from Ann

I worked with Emily for about 4 years. In that time (and after) I was privileged to be able to have her as a close friend. There are a dillion things that I can look back on and laugh about. Like how we’d run out for lunch, and Emily, crazy with hunger, wouldn’t even pretend to park correctly. Or how we would crack ourselves up doing dramatic readings of popular songs (“Underneath Your Clothes” by Shakira is hilarious. Try it!). Or how she arranged an anonymous subscription to the magazine Geezer Jock for our boss. And of course there’s the day she and Cara went over the top mocking new-age hippie artisans, drove to Michael’s at lunch, and came back with supplies for a fake career in jewelry making. Emily would say “I am a local artist” with her best new-age hippie up-speak. I still have my “bracelet” she made for me that day.

Now these little vignettes may not seem funny to you, but if you knew Em, you’d know that we were all busting a gut. But here’s a story that stands out in my mind as quintessential Emily:

Several years ago, we were working on some big, rush-rush project, and the art directors had to stay late to get it all together for the following day. Emily was finished with her part of the job, but she stayed with us, helping out wherever she could. She went out and got us some dinner and some beer, and helped keep us focused and entertained.

Round about 10pm or so, we were all a little punchy and bitter that we were in the office so late. Em was sitting on the floor and leaning up against a cubicle, and randomly asked “How come Winnie the Pooh doesn’t wear any pants?” I had to drop everything because I was laughing so hard I thought I would drool on my layouts. She continued: “There he is every DAY, running around the Hundred Acre Wood, drunk on honey with NO PANTS!” I was laughing so hard I had to RUN AWAY. I’m laughing now.

Who knows where the conversation went after that? But there she was, taking time out of her evening, staying late in that dreary office, offering moral support, friendship, and a taste of her wicked sense of humor.

Ah, the delightful Miss Em.

from Bonita

Emily was my cousin. She was a beautiful girl who I loved dearly. I may have not seen her as often as I wanted, but she knew I loved her. The last time we talked she told me how good I was at always sending out cards and that she just wasn't good at that. Well if she wasn't good at sending out cards, that's the only thing because she was wonderful at everything! I treasure all the Christmas Eve's we had together prior to my mom's death (her Aunt Yvonne). My mother loved Emily and Kerri very much. She was proud of her nieces and I'm sure if she was here she could express just how much she loved not only them but her brother Skip and her sister-in-law Judy.

I have two stories I'd like to share. The first being Christmas Eve in 2005. I stopped by to have lunch with Aunt Judy and Uncle Skip. Emily was there. And of course she was battling the cancer. She had somewhere to go and before she left I remember her hugging my neck and telling me that she loved me and how sorry she was I was going through what I was going through in my life (which was a separation from my husband of 22 years). She said I was too good of a person to be going through everything I was going through. And all I could think about that night was how unselfish of a person Emily was. Here she was battling cancer, chemo, loss of hair and weight, and all the other things that go with cancer — and she told me I was too good of a person to be going through what I was going through. Again Emily was concerned with others and not herself. Yet the truth is, she was too good a person to be going through what she was going through every day from that moment, the moments before that, and then to her death.

My second story is a fun night I was blessed to share with Emily, Aunt Judy, and the Casey ladies! (Oh yeah, Kerri was out of town but Mike was there with us!) We were at Tie-Breakers one Friday night. And of course Emily was there for the karaoke. And she was awesome. She sang some great songs! Everyone else there sang country songs. I remember her saying "ok, here we go, I can already see what tonite is going to be: Emily and country, Emily and country..." We had a blast. I got to see that fun side of Emily that night that all her friends had seen forever. All the times I had seen Emily before were based on family gatherings. Of course she was always fun, but that night she was ultimate fun! I'll cherish being able to be there with them that night forever in my heart. And Mike was right at the Memorial Service; Emily does live in me and in all of us. I'll miss her forever, but I'm thankful and proud she was my dear cousin.

Emilyfrom Uncle Clark

She was to me the "Divine Ms. Em" - and I was to her "Unkie Clark".

She was a wonderful and devoted daughter - and a wonderful sister and sister-in-law – a wonderful niece and cousin – and, if only for 7 months, a wonderful aunt to little Elliott.

She was a truly genuine friend to all who knew her - a fun-loving companion with a unique sense of humor and an all-out love for life.

She represented the best of the Brights and the best of the Brewers.

She was a child of God and is now one of God's chosen ones – and, as we know, if God needs any help with the "heavenly message" Emily is the one to call upon.

She was the ultimate in courage. She never, never gave up. Never, that is, until God whispered in her ear that it was time for her to rest and come to him.

She never complained; instead, she always had a smile in her heart. She never was selfish; instead, she gave and gave and gave.

She will always be remembered, cherished and loved. She was truly a special person, and we will never ever forget her.

She was the "Divine Ms. Em" and I was blessed to be her "Unkie Clark".

from Marianne

there are so many em stories that have been swimming around in my head for the last couple of months. and i've struggled writing them down, because, well, who can recount a story like emily bright? so, the following are just ramblings of my favorite 'em-ories': ok, that's a pun, which is against Em's Cardinal Rules of Copy-Writing...but appropriate when you consider that even the most mundane task, like going on a TCBY run, became a side-splitting adventure when em tagged along. hence, an em-ory.

i'll never forget the night chapel hill froze over and we drank pitchers of margaritas (and a fishbowl or two) at el rodeo and ice skated home down the middle of franklin st, the asphalt all to ourselves. or the sunday nights we spent watching 'sex and the city' at her place, keeping one eye on SJP and the other on TT (because you never knew when that cat was gonna strike). or the night or two we ended up at players getting down to our favorite hip hop tracks with unc freshmen. and, of course, enough anecdotes from the jennings days to fill a book. em going home to heat up a ton of kansas city BBQ for the office and coming back declaring that even her cat smelled like meat still makes me laugh. and of course anything from the dave a/emily comedy duo.

em was one of those gals who would just do. it. up. and i loved her for it. never that high-maintenance chick who would "just have a salad," i could always count on her to split a bottle of wine with me. to order the most decadent thing on the menu. to stay out late on a 'school night' when the occasion called for it. to order another round of sushi (drop the 'i'). pretty much every sunday afternoon when we were both living in chapel hill, em and i had a standing date with the spice street patio. we'd just sit in the sun for hours on end, drinking blue moon, sharing flatbread and catching each other up on our lives outside of work.

the same week i was laid off in oct '03, em got a horrible bout of e. coli (of all people, right?). we had tickets to REM at walnut creek, and the night before, her stomach seemed to be in tact and i was starting to find my pride again. so we decided that we'd get our groove back by stalking the band on franklin st. just as she predicted, the whole band was eating at crook's corner. em, never being a shrinking violet, marched right up to them at the bar after we were finished with dinner and told them how huge of a fan she was. they were all super gracious and everything you would ever hope for from your favorite rock stars- even going so far as to ask what we were up to later (we later learned that they played an impromptu set at the 506).

the whole band, that is, except for michael stipe. per my intuition, we popped into lantern for drinks and that ooey gooey molten dark chocolate cake. and there he was, in all his freakishly fabulous glory: sitting at a table by himself, eating dinner. em flounced right up to him, breathlessly told him how much she loved his music and michael, in between chews, said "thank you. thank you." the show the following night was incredible- we were so close to the band we could see the beads of sweat on stipe's face- and em was so deliriously happy. i consider myself so lucky to have shared those 2 nights of REM bliss with her.

i've had a few dreams about em recently. they've been pretty similar: a bunch of us are hanging out and she's there, with long, luscious shiny hair and that trademark laugh. and she tells us that the BGT's were an unpleasant occurrence of the past, but that it's all behind her and don't worry, she's happy and healthy now. i wake up with her laugh echoing in my head, knowing that's her way of reassuring us that she's doing just fine.

i know she's up there with a glass of wine, shoes off, dancing like no one's watching to 'got to be real.'

from another friend

I have known exactly what I wanted to express in my story about Emily for quite some time. It has just taken me a while to find out how to write it so that I clearly tell my story of the impact of Emily in my life. Although at times this story tells a lot about myself, the big picture is all about Emily and her remarkable spirit. So bear with me just a little.

Let me start with my background with the Brights. I grew up with Emily and Kerri from the time I was 8. Our parents were all best friends so naturally, we spent a lot of time with the Brights. We spent Easter at the beach with big bangs and clip on visors hunting eggs until we were way past the age that you should be hunting eggs. Each New Years was always at my parents' house, which always proved entertaining. Summers at the pool, dinners at the country club and putting high miles on our Earth Cruisers around the neighborhood, we did it all. As we grew older, I saw less of the Bright girls. Not because I didn't love them, but just because sometimes life does that. We had different interests different friends and so on and so forth. I seemed to go through every stage possible, took many steps backwards in life before moving forward, but looking back, Emily was always a constant. She never changed who she was, she just grew even greater than the year before. She seemed to handle the bad stuff just as she would the good. Something I've never been able to do. Now where my story comes in...

I was the cheerleader who dated the football player, the girl who hung out in the so called "in" crowd, always a huge smile on my face. I went on to college and continued to be the cheerleader, the sorority girl always in fashion and always in the middle of the social scene. I was the girl who appeared to be confident, happy and energetic with more friends than I could count. Only I was none of the above. I have never really felt like I fit in with anyone. I was always who I thought I would want to be or maybe what I thought people wanted me to be. Friends are something I don’t have a lot of. Even now I am married and have 2 children, I have the best family in the world, but outside of them acceptance isn't something I really feel in crowds.

Emily ALWAYS accepted me for what she saw inside me. I think she could see instantly the insecurities I held so deeply. It was as if she could reach inside and take them away temporarily as I never felt out of place with Emily. In the last few months of Em's life, hanging out at the Brights' house was an everyday thing. I got to meet all of Emily's friends, who each had a piece of her in them. In her sickness it was as if she had brought all of these completely different souls together. People that probably wouldn't hang out with one another on a normal basis were now all hanging out and laughing together over stories about Emily. We used to sit in her room and just talk. Even if she was asleep, we felt like our energy would make her feel normal, better, happy. We were all there for her and for once in my life, I felt like I had something in common with a whole group of people. It was our love for Emily. She was definitely a magical woman. I don't know anyone else who has a group of friends like Emily did. She knew no stranger and could see right to your heart in a second. In the months following Emily's death, I have to say I miss hanging out with my new found friends, but can honestly say that Emily gave me that gift, the gift of friends. The football player, the "dramies", the doctor, the teacher, the professional, the literature buff, the seamlessly quiet and shy, the misfit cheerleader, whoever you were, she didn't care because she only loved who we were, not what we were.

So thanks Em for making me feel loved, for making me feel accepted. You will never know what it has meant to me. I love you and miss you dearly. You are truly the most beautiful person I have ever met.