Emmy

This week, I received a package. A large, heavy package, which is pretty unusual, even when it's my birthday. As I began to open it, it became clear--the telltale black box inside, out of which came an Emmy. My fourth, which would join the others in my living room.

This was an Emmy for work that I did on the last ten episodes of One Life to Live that aired on ABC in 2012. Work that I did in 2011, which feels like a very, very long time ago.
  
I remember in my childhood watching the Emmys on TV, and hoping that I would someday have one. I remember interviewing celebrities for a radio show in college, and seeing Emmys in their homes and offices. I remember the years on One Life to Live when the Emmys completely ignored our show. And then, somehow, I ended up with four Emmys in my living room. They are largely Emmys that appeared in my living room in large boxes, months later than, and completely separate from the awards ceremonies. So these Emmys were not acquired while I was wearing evening gowns. On the contrary, at least a few have made their debut here while I was in my pajamas.
  
It's a funny thing how something that was so far away feels so different when it's close by. While I am certainly grateful to have worked with teams of people who created good work and won, most days of the year, I don't think much about the statues being there. They're just there.
  
This Emmy's arrival couldn't help but be a bit melancholy. When I did the work, we--the ABC One Life to Live crew--were still together, and now we are scattered all over the map. The Emmy's arrival is a reminder of the good, but a reminder of the sad as well. The announcement this week that online soaps will now be Emmy-eligible means that my Emmy days might not be over. The work I did earlier this year could be recognized. But Emmys can't bring back what is gone. They can just be a "hang in there" greeting card that arrives in the mail.