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Last night Jack and I were watching a show on Noggin where a little kid was talking to his grandmother. And Jack said to me, "I have three grandmas."

I agreed. And told him how lucky he was to have three grandmas who love him so much.

A little while passed.

"Mama, how come you don't have any grandmas?"

I really didn't know how to tackle this. He's only three and doesn't really get the concept of God or heaven and his only image of death was Spider-Man overcoming a bad guy.

The conversation went something like this...

"I do. I have two grandmas. They are in Heaven."

"In Heaven? Why don't we see them?"

"Because Heaven is a far away place that is magical and wonderful,'' I said. "They are there now together watching over us."

"Watching over us?" he asked. "I want to go to there.''

"Someday you'll go to Heaven and when you do, you can meet my grandmas,'' I said. I was kind of hoping this would end it. How do I explain death and life, heaven and hell to him without freaking him out? I am a little freaked out about the whole thing.

"I have a grandpa, he's Ga's Daddy,'' I said.

"I know Grandpa! He's my Grandpa too!" He acted so annoyed with me like obviously he knew he had a Grandpa. "He's got white hair."

Silence for a while. I was busy on my BlackBerry sneaking in work.

"What were your grandma's names?" he asked.

"My one grandma we called Nana. Her name was Rita and my other grandma was named Mary,'' he said.

"I have a grandma named Mary!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, you do. Isn't that great?"

He sat there for a minute, eyes back on the TV.

"I don't want to die,'' he said, eyes wide.

"Don't worry honey. You will be fine.''

"Why did your grandmas die? Were they bad guys?"

"Jack! That's silly. They weren't bad guys. My grandma was sick and it was her time to go to heaven so she could feel better,'' I explained.

He seemed to get it. I was impressed.

"And my Nana was older. And she was sad because she missed my Papa, and it was her time to go to heaven.''

"So she could feel better too?"

"Exactly.''

"I have a Papa too,'' he said. "Daddy's daddy is Papa. But sometimes I call him Grandpa Rex."

"That's right! Aren't we so lucky we have Papas?"

"But do your grandmas even know about me? Do they like me?"

"Jack, I know they love you so much. Because you know what's so great?! They are watching over us. So whenever you are scared, or sad, they will be there to help you."

"Can they talk to me?"

"No, they can't really talk to you but when you are sleeping in your big boy bed, they give you teeny-tiny kisses on your cheeks and hug you really tight so you won't have bad dreams.''

"Will they protect me from the scary tree out my window?"

"Of course! That's their job now. They protect you and Brennan and Freddie. That's because they love you so-so-so much and they want you to be happy."

"So... they are ghosts?"

"Well, kind of."

"I don't like ghosts. They're scary."

"They aren't mean ghosts, silly. They are ... angels. They are like your own special heroes that maybe you can't see or talk to but they are there, protecting you and making you happy.''

"I know Papa."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I have seen him in my room."

"That's great. I am sure they are all there."

"Mama, he has my eyes. He is in my room when I wake up from the scary tree."

This stopped me. I wasn't sure I heard him right.

"What?"

"The man in my room is the Papa. He has the same eyes as me."

Now, I know I search for signs. I like to think my deceased relatives are around leading, protecting, listening. It makes me feel better. It makes me miss them less. This to me sounded like confirmation.

Because the thing is... Jack has my eyes. I have my mom's eyes. My mom has my Papa's eyes. They are the Cleary eyes. It's our thing. The eyes. You can't miss them. When I was younger I hated them but now I embrace them because it's our thing. It's all about the eyes.

So many times I have watched Jack play, talk, think things through and I have thought he was so much like Papa. My dad and mom have both on separate occasions said he reminded them of Papa. And since he could talk I wished that Papa could have met him. Jack's vocabulary, his observations, his sentence structure amaze us everyday and I know my Papa in particular would have loved it. He would have challenged him; groomed him.

So, that made me really happy. Insanely happy.

I hugged Jack tight.

"Aren't we so lucky we have grandparents who take care of us, Jackie?"

He squeezed me tight right back.