When I was in the hospital after giving birth to Hannah, my dear friend Allison, brought a lovie for Hannah. Hannah had a few great options but as time moved on we kept finding this lovie, endearingly called Monkey (because it was actually a pink Monkey) by her face. To say she gave love to this lovie is quite the understatement.

This is monkey - now head-less and about to loss an arm with very worn texture throughout.

Anywho, all the background is to share a precious story of our evening, one day shy of our two month mark of losing mom on this Earth. I had a totally different story in mind to write tonight until this time with Hannah and I came downstairs thinking, I MUST must record this! After letting monkey go two years ago (because it was tied to sucking thumb), every once in a blue moon, Hannah asks if she can see monkey again. Tonight was one of those nights. So we got him out of the top of the closet and let her hold it as she and I lay in her cozy bed to read our book tonight. When we were done reading, she passed it back to me, and said, "here you go..thank you. you know monkey reminds me some of SuSu." I pause surprised and asked, "Tell me more about that." She said, "I don't know totally, its just I think there were lots of times I needed monkey and SuSu always gave him to me. And it's just, I miss her so much." My breathing changes as I lay beside her, and I try to stay cool so she will keep giving me her heart, and she does. "It's just, it was WAY WAY WAY too soon for her to die. I mean, I'm only 7. And she was just 67 and i barely got enough years with her. It was Way too soon. "

At this point, Hannah is more given over to her grief than I have seen her since my mom passed. She has been so valiant in marching through her grief in her 7 year old body and watching closely how it plays our for her own mother and grandfather, Ba. And I have wanted to know how it has been for her but tried to be patient that she let me know on her own terms. And of course, it is here as we lay in bed - the end of the day in the quiet peace with no other agenda around us, she lets go and lets me in. Of course it is the night she asks for comforting monkey that she can begin to share about her SuSu. I saw all over her face and the water pooling in her eyes when she said, I miss her, that her whole little person wanted SuSu near. And it made so much dang perfect sense. I almost wanted to start cuddling monkey myself.

After we talked a little bit more, I began our nightly prayers. I began thanking God that we ever got to have someone in our life who adored us so much and comforted us so greatly, and Hannah interrupted my prayer and carried on again, "it's just too soon," she said again, "she was so high-spirited all the time. And she didn't worry too much. She never worried to get a bunch of stuff done, she just wanted to be with me. She loved to be around me." I choke back tears quietly and Hannah pauses, so i resumed praying, when once again she interjected in the prayer, "God I hope you are taking good care of her, because if she is happy then i guess we are happy, but, i mean, we miss her."

If it is possible for a heart to actually ballon out on a daily basis, i tell you my heart was expanding by the second. I loved her words, her mind, her truth, and the sweetness of reminiscing with her tonight. She wanted to know when SuSu first met her and I took great joy in telling her that she was there the day Hannah was born and that she slept on the sofa in our house for the week that followed and treasured every chance to hold her granddaugther and to get her back to sleep. I told her she had her in a little baby thingy right beside her one night and she rocked her back and forth for hours, smiling and singing to her so I could get a little rest. Hannah said, "That SuSu."

And I finished my prayer smiling and grateful. That SuSu is right - it was too soon to lose such a comforting, adoring presence in your life. I am sorry my girl. I often think of the delight she would have to see you in these days - so thoughtful, curious, brave and loving you are. And I never stop wishing that you had a million more hours with her attentive face to encourage and hear and speak wisdom to you. It makes absolutely no earthy sense, and I admire your brave remembering with me tonight.