My anger protected me for all of 30 seconds. It was explosive and all-encompassing for that time while I selfishly thought, "How could you do this to me?" Too quickly, that faded into my real question: "How could you leave me behind?"
I knew she was mentally ill. She had really low points but had persevered. Through a combination of denial and poor reading comprehension, I missed her goodbye post. I replied with a remark that was too flippant, too reminiscent of the quips we always tossed at each other regardless of the situation, and it was the last thing I ever sent to her.
I know it wouldn't have made a difference if I'd responded with anything else. I only hope she knew, at some level, that she was loved. That I loved her.
Godspeed, Fiona and, because I know you'd appreciate this: I hope that if there is an afterlife, it doesn't have Stephenie Meyer's audiobooks being piped through.