still remembering

I've been talking to Major Cutie about getting ready to re-meet her brothers in the next several weeks. We talked about this at dinner last night. This morning the girls had been upstairs playing together when Major Cutie came down stairs in tears. I was doing laundry and asked if they had had a fight. They had not. They were playing house, or rather "Nim's Island" and Major Cutie said she was making her dolls talk (her Ethiopian doll) and it made her sad. She wanted to see her brother from Ethiopia. I was bent down at her level where we hugged and I was able to tell her we were praying for a day to go see her brother. She then said she was going to sleep with that Ethiopian doll every day. Then she brushed off her tears, asked for something to eat and was off. Now as I type, not ten minutes later, she is laughing (and making ghost noises) with her siblings. Grief can be such a mystery can't it?