I just miss Poppa

On the way home from church tonight, in a dark and very quiet van, a little voice piped up all of a sudden and said, "I just miss Poppa." It was Miles. He was 9 months old when my dad died. Oh, sweet Miles, I so needed to hear that from you. I take this to mean two things. First, that the Holy Spirit prompts even 2 year olds with words of comfort for others. And that I'm doing right by my dad in this way - talking about him often and having his pictures around the house. When I was seeing a counselor in the year after Dad died she told me that if I talked about him enough, especially about certain events or pictures that the kids were in or stories that involved them and Dad, that they would actually create memories from what I say. Memories that seem real. So even if Eli doesn't actually remember the time my big dad got inside his little tent, he at least thinks he remembers it. So I talk about Dad a lot. It helps them and me. Oh, and Miles, I just miss Poppa, too.