"Did she read all these?"
I smiled.
"Most of them more than once."
She touched a faded paperback.
Then she looked toward me.
"Was she happy here?"
The question surprised me.
I considered it carefully.
"Most of the time."
Lily frowned.
"Not always?"
I laughed softly.
"Sweetheart, nobody is happy every minute."
She thought about that.
Then she nodded.
"Okay."
I sat on the edge of the bed.
"Your mommy had difficult days too. She got angry about homework, argued with her sister over the telephone, and once cried because she thought everyone had forgotten her birthday."
Lily smiled.
"Did they?"
"No. Ruth and I were planning a surprise."
My granddaughter laughed.
"That sounds like Mommy."
I nodded.
"It does."
She sat beside me.
For a while, we looked at the photographs.
Then Lily asked, "Grandma?"
"Yes?"
"Did Mommy like Vanessa?"
I felt my heart tighten.
Claire had never met Vanessa.
I took a breath.
"Your mommy died before Vanessa became part of your family."
Lily looked down.
"I know."
I waited.
She continued.
"Vanessa said Mommy would want me to help her feel welcome."
I nodded slowly.
"Your mommy was a kind person. I think she would have wanted everyone to treat one another with respect."
Lily looked toward me.
"Even if I don't like something?"
I considered the question.
"Being kind doesn't mean you have to agree with everything someone asks."
She frowned.
"Really?"
"Really."
I moved closer.
"You can say when you're uncomfortable. You can ask questions. You can tell a trusted adult when something makes you afraid."
Lily thought about that.
Then she whispered, "I didn't want anybody to be sad."
I put an arm around her.
"Oh, sweetheart."
She leaned against me.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then she said, "Sometimes I don't remember Mommy's voice."
I closed my eyes.
The words hurt in a way I hadn't expected.
I had been afraid of losing my daughter's belongings, her photographs, and the little habits that reminded me of her.
I had never fully considered what it meant for Lily to grow older with memories that were becoming harder to reach.
I kissed the top of her head.
"I have some videos."
She looked up.
"Of Mommy?"
I nodded.
"Lots."
Her eyes widened.
"Can we watch them?"
I smiled through tears.
"Of course."
We spent the next hour watching ordinary family recordings.