Finley came to me in tears. "Mom, I miss Mammaw. I don't want her to be an angel. I want her to be a normal person so I can see her. I didn't get to hug or kiss her goodbye."
I will have this talk with her many, many times in the coming years and the thought is heartbreaking. But a worse realization is that there will come a day when she won't ask about her. My daughter was four years, three months and three days old when she lost her grandmother. She won't remember that they cooked together, went on walks outside, had tea parties, danced and laughed together. How very much my mother loved her.
And that is what wrenches my heart the most.
Keeping someone's memory alive for the duration of a child's life is a daunting and exhausting task. It is a job that some days I fear I am not capable of. Some days I feel like I will surely fail.
But I will try. Because my sweet daughter deserves a grandma, even if it is only the thought of her.