I watch you standing in front of the crowd. I watch you dab your eyes. Your husband is a pillar of strength beside you. Friends are speaking – lovely words, funny words, remembering words. I look to the sky - which has decided to dress in pink for the occasion. My body feels like a live wire that, at the merest of touches, will ignite some fierce emotion that I will no longer be able to control. I watch your face as your husband unveils the bench. It is beautiful and simple. It is strong. It stands with others, too many. It honors. We all walk. We walk in honor. We walk in remembrance. I don’t see you. I walk with my family. It is a beautiful night. So many of us walking. We make a proud line though the downtown. Cars drive by and I imagine they are confused. Why so many would be walking and to where are we headed? We get to the orchard. Hundreds of us. We watch the bonfire ignite in a blaze of all colors. Rising higher, the flames, and I spot you. The mother. Standing with her town. With friends, so many friends. I feel proud to stand with you. I feel sad that I have nothing to offer, to say. I wish it wouldn’t feel strange to just walk up to you and wrap my arms around you. No words. My tears are silent, like my voice. Your dearest friends have said it all. Offered all the comfort, still offer all the comfort. You are so strong. You make me proud to be a mother. So, I mentally wrap my arms around you and I am proud to stand with you in honor of your daughter. You daughter is gone. My son knew her. My son walked with us. He is 16. She is 16. Your pain. I watch you watching the fire. I simply want you to know, she has profoundly changed my life. Your daughter. A girl I have never met. A family I never knew. We walked as many, tonight, but we walked as one.