I don’t know what God is, or what praying means. I don’t know anything about any of that really, but out here under these stars I always feel close to Layla. I feel her loving me, connecting with me somehow. I know this sounds strange but I talk to her sometimes. Of course I never hear her voice, but I often feel her very close to me and this is how she answers me.
Tonight, like many nights, my thoughts returned to the night of the accident. But on this night I wanted to remember her when she was happy and bright and free like so many nine-year-old kids are, full of wonder and mischief and magic.