Sometimes, it just hits you.

I had a lovely day on Tuesday. I spent time with my toddler, my parents, and then my husband. But all day I felt a little "off." I couldn't figure out why I was so sad, or why my Grandpa Browning just kept coming to mind. I miss him every day, but for some reason on this day, it really hit me.

Kevin seemed to be having a difficult evening as well. Her dad went through the usual bedtime routine and went back in to rock her out of her screaming two more times before it was finally my turn. Sometimes I make her screaming worse because she just loves me so much, she hates to see me leave--but sometimes, she just needs to see me one more time before she can settle down and go to sleep. We usually do the "bedtime routine" two or three times with her at night--but it only takes 30 minutes to get her to calm down enough to sleep and we get extra cuddles in, so we don't really mind the repetition.

On this particular night, I picked Kevin up from her crib, placed her fleece blanket on my shoulder, and rubbed her back as she nestled in to me. I went and sat in our rocking chair, and she turned herself just enough so that she could see my face, just like she did when she was a very small infant. I started singing my usual repertoire of LDS Primary songs. And as I was singing, she started at me, mesmerized. The spirit filled her little room, and she smiled big behind her binky. And I knew it wasn't my off-key singing that was making her smile.

And I realized that all day I had been missing my Grandpa, and that it had been exactly two years since I saw him alive, since he gave me a hug and teased me about my newlywed love life, and how he needed a great-grandbaby and he was counting on us to give him one.

Oh how I wish he could have met my little girl. Sometimes I picture them playing together. I know he would have loved her--he would have loved her curly hair, her teasing smile, her cleverness that always keeps me on my toes. He would have loved to watch her toddle and he would have gotten a huge kick out of calling my mom "Grandma." He would have loved Kevin for her spunk and the way she challenges me to determine who I am and who we are going to be. She would have loved him for his big, leathery hands and quick smile and his deep laugh.

I so wanted him to have the experience of being a great-grandpa before he died, but it was not to be. Our timing was off. She came eight weeks early just eight months after he died. When I found out I was pregnant, I was pretty sure my Grandpa (whom our family referred to as "Big Guy") went up to the Other Big Guy and said, "They need a baby. They need a baby now." I don't think we had as much choice in the matter as we thought we did.

And that night, as I cuddled our precious little one close, I could feel him near, as I often can. I could feel him smiling. And I knew that he was proud of us, for the choices we were making. And I knew that he was grateful to be a great-grandpa.

Moments like that, they just hit you. Out of the blue. You don't think you are prepared for them, but most of the time they don't come to you unless you are in the right place to receive them.

I know that angels surround us every day. I know they help us more than we think. When I am in the right mentality, I feel them. I felt them walking and singing beside me on my mission. I feel them now when I serve in the Temple. I felt them standing over my little one's isolette as she fought for her life in the hospital. I have felt them on days when life seems particularly challenging, telling me that I can do hard things and that it is not in me to give up.

My family, we have several big events coming up in the next few months, and it feels like those times are the ones where we miss those who have died the most. I want my siblings to know that I know that we have more help than we think, and those that we miss so much don't miss us at all because they are so close to where we are.

I picture my Grandma Burningham, working with my little sister as she takes care of little ones all day. I picture my Grandpa Burningham, teaching and cheering my older brother on as he takes the hardest exam of his life. I picture my Grandpa Browning walking beside my little brother down the busy roads of Korea as they both complete the missions they have so been looking forward to, together. I picture my Uncle Brian sitting with my dad as he goes to doctors appointment after doctor's appointment. And I picture my Aunt Betty putting her arm around my mother, saying, "You can do this, honey. Just keep going."

And I picture them, as well as Scott's grandparents, as they take turns helping us put Kevin to bed each night.

Sometimes, it just hits you. You are never alone.

Who do you love that is with you today?