As the girl who gave their daughter another chance.
Ellen and Mark followed the nurse down the hallway.
I watched them go.
Jonathan stood beside me.
I watched them go.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I said, “I’m still angry with you.”
“I know.”
“You kept something enormous from me.”
“I know.”
“I don’t know if I would’ve made the same choice, but I understand why you did.”
“I’m still angry with you.”
His eyes filled again.
That was as close to forgiveness as I could get that day.
I took his hand.
We walked back toward Mary’s room.
It was empty now.
That was as close to forgiveness as I could get that day.
A few hours earlier, I had followed my daughter down a hallway thinking everything about her life was ending.
But Mary had known something I didn’t.
She couldn’t control what was happening to her.
She could still decide what she left behind.
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Mary had known something I didn’t.
Somewhere in that hospital, Sophie was waking up.
Soon, her mother would sit beside her bed and make plans for going home.
The kind of plans I had made for Mary until the very end.
Losing my daughter wasn’t easier because another girl lived.
It never would be.
The kind of plans I had made for Mary until the very end.
But now I understood what Mary had tried to give me.
Not a reason for her death.
Something to hold onto after it.
She couldn’t come home with me.
So she helped another daughter go home with her mother.
I understood what Mary had tried to give me.
