"Mommy?" Fiona looks up from the TV set towards the brown haired four-year-old standing to the left next to the baby in the rocker swing.
"Yes Morgan? May I help you?" She asks with a huge smile on her face.
"I was just wondering something. So I'd thought I'd ask you okay?"
"Sounds like a great idea to me my dear, ask away, I'll try my best to answer." Morgan walks over to the fireplace mantel and with the help of her very tippy-toes pulls down a framed picture and takers it over to her mother.
"This is grandpa right? Not daddies daddy but yours?" Fiona looks down at the image of her father, still amazed by how much her children more so her son looked like him.
"Yep that's right. That is my daddy. You would have really liked him honey. He was so much fun."
"I know that he's fun mommy." She says while taking a seat on her mother's lab, leaning in close.
"Oh you do? Is that because of all the stories you have heard and the home videos we sometimes watch?"
"No."
"Alright, than what makes you think grandpa is fun?"
"Because whenever he comes to play with me he's silly. He makes a good pirate. RRRgg!" She tries her best to immediate a pirate but falls short. Fiona pauses for a moment her thoughts going a thousand miles an hour nothing staying in focus. If Tad Raxall were here it would be a perfect time for a re-boot.
"When has grandpa played with you? In your dreams honey?"
"All the time, no when I am awake. How can you play if you're sleeping?" Of course she had to inherit logically thinking from her uncle, Fiona smirks to herself for a brief second.
"What do you guys do honey?"
"I told you, we play games and he talks to me. He says, he says, I forgot what he said." Morgan's face growth to disappoint and she sighs.
"It's okay honey you'll remember later, okay?" Inside thinking with fury what! What did he say! Fiona believed it was her father visiting her daughter and not a play friend that looked similar to him. It was something that neither could explained or even proved. She feared Morgan telling her father or anyone else in the family of the visits, knowing they'd only pat her on the head telling her that's nice. That simple remark could kill that piece of innocence within her soul, killing the trips. After all it's said young kids are completely pure and more likely to see ghosts, angels, spirits because they do not know believing is wrong. They don't completely understand the realm of difference between the world of morals and spirits. But once that door is closed its near impossible to open fully again. Even when Fiona spent the few years of her youth investigating the other door it was never completely pushed open.
Brushing Morgan's hair she could only wish the door remained open for a long time. Sounds of fussing from the rocker breaks the quiet of the room, Morgan jumps down rushing towards her brother.
"It's okay Ricky, it's okay." Fiona feels a tear coming to her eye, not for sadness, but instead joy of a wonderful life. The knowledge that even though he was gone from this world her father could still experience and share in the happiness. The dead never leave, unless you want them to. That's would be one wish never to cross her lips.