Sometimes You Just Need to Have a Conversation with a Three-Year-Old

Today's post strays slightly from the norm, but offers a gentle reminder that even in our loneliest moments, we are more connected than we might feel.

Just two days after my mom passed away, my heart felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. You know that heavy kind of grief? The kind where you're dragging yourself through the day, unable to fully understand how the world keeps moving when your own feels shattered? Yeah, it was one of those days. I found myself on the couch with my three-year-old granddaughter, Addy. I wasn’t expecting much from our time together—just a little distraction from the ache in my chest. But what I got instead was one of those rare, pure moments that reminds you that even when grief whispers that you’re alone… you’re not.Here’s how it went:

Addy:  Grandma, why is your face so red?

Me: Oh, I’m just a little sad, that’s all.

Addy: Why are you sad?

Me: Because I miss my mommy.

Addy: (Giggling) You don’t have a mommy, you’re a grandma.

Me: Everyone has a mommy.

Addy: Oh.

(A few minutes of quiet passed. I rubbed my eyes and stared out the window, holding onto the last bit of balance I had left for the day. Then she spoke up again.)

Addy: Grandma, who was your mommy?

Me: Do you want me to show you a picture of my mommy?

Now, let me pause for a second to explain something. Addy has a LOT of grandmas. We've got a five-generation family—so figuring out which grandma I was talking about isn’t exactly simple for her to understand. And honestly? I didn’t have it in me to explain it all at that moment. So, I pulled out a picture of my mom instead.

Addy: Yeah! (I show her the picture, and out of nowhere, she just bursts into giggles.)

Me:  Why are you laughing?

Addy: Because if that Grandma is your mommy, it’s really funny!

I couldn’t even be upset. Her little laugh was like sunshine piercing right through the cloud I’d been sitting under. And her three-year-old logic? I guess it did sound kind of funny to her.

But then came the part that tugged at my heart so hard I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.(A few more minutes passed. She was fiddling with some toys, and I was lost in my thoughts again. Then…)

Addy: Grandma, you don’t have to be sad because my mommy is your mommy, and I’m your Addy.

Let me just say this—grief is complicated, and so is healing. Some days, it feels like you’re drowning, and other days, you’ll catch a little breath that reminds you you’re still alive. That moment with Addy? It was my little breath.

She didn’t even know what she was doing. She just said what she felt, in that strangely magical way that kids do. And somehow, her funny little words cracked my chest open enough to let some light in. Her words didn’t erase the pain of losing my mom. Of course, they didn’t. But they reminded me that I wasn’t alone. That my world is still full of love, even when it feels like a piece of it is gone forever.

Why Talking to a Three-Year-Old Sometimes Helps More Than You Realize

Kids don’t overcomplicate things. Their world is small, and their hearts are big. They see things through fresh eyes, ones that haven’t been clouded by cynicism or weighed down by all the “shoulds” we carry as adults .

Addy didn’t need to fix me. She didn’t tell me not to cry or try to fill the silence when things got heavy. She didn’t have any wise advice to give. What she did do was sit beside me, stay curious, and love me the best way she knew how.

Sometimes, that’s all we really need, isn’t it? Just someone to notice the color in our cheeks and gently ask why. Someone to sit with us in the quiet and remind us—that we’re still connected.

 You’re Not Alone

If you’re struggling with something right now, please take this as a little reminder: You’re not alone. Even on the loneliest of days, there’s someone—maybe a three-year-old, maybe a best friend, or maybe even me—who’s standing on the sidelines with love in their heart and open arms.

Grief doesn’t have a timeline. It doesn’t make sense, and it’s not pretty. But sometimes, amid all the hurt, we get these tiny, fleeting moments of grace that remind us we’re not walking this road completely by ourselves. So, if things feel heavy today, maybe take a moment to sit with someone who sees the world a little more simply than you do. It might just surprise you what they teach you in between giggles and questions.

For me, Addy’s little voice will always echo in my heart: “Grandma, you don’t have to be sad because my mommy is your mommy and I’m your Addy.”

Take care of yourself, friend. You’re not alone.

❤️ Mahalo

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