I sat down with Molly's mom yesterday and we talked. I could see her in Bobbi's face, so plainly that I wondered why I'd never noticed how much Molly looked like her mother.
Bobbi talked about the months and days leading up to Molly's death. I listened as she pieced together parts of Molly's story that I didn't know. Because we had started growing apart years ago. Because I lived four hours away. Because she could no longer look me in the eyes or call me on the phone. Because of my own guilt, my feelings that my own happiness was too much to ask her to bear.
I have pondered the "what if's" for so long. What if I had tried to stay closer to Molly? What if I had called her that night? What if she had called me? Is there anything I could have done or said that would have made any difference?
And I don't know. I'll never know. But now I know what I would have said to her, what I would still say if I could talk to her one last time.
I would say,
"Molly, I understand.
You are not a burden.
You are magical.
I will always love you."