It all just hit me. Just like that. The Before and the After. There was no other way to explain it. “Well,” Miranda said, trying to cheer us both up.
“She wouldn’t want us to cry like this, would she?”
“I can’t stop. I can’t,” I told her. It was true, I didn’t know why, but nothing stopped. But when I had no more energy and tears to cry left, Miranda spoke. “You know her.
She would tell us to forget that she died, and tell us to just remember her. She wouldn’t want us to cry. She would want us to do what she did, walk in her shoes.
We can help others, just like she did.”
“Do you remember, when things were awkward, what she would say?” I asked her.
“So, the weather’s nice, huh?” We choresed.
“Usually, it would always be raining when she said it,” Miranda smiled through her sadness.
I nodded. “Almost always it would be raining. And everytime, we would have to point out to her that it was raining, or snowing, or something. And she would just blink and say -”
“- oh.” We said together.
Then, for no reason and no explanation, we started to laugh. We laughed until our voices were hoarse, and even then, we kept laughing.