Coping with her grief

It's been more than two months since my father passed away. Right after he passed, Margaret kept telling me that I should do like she was and "just not think about it." That's not working for her anymore. Now she's thinking about it. Since my mother has come for a visit, Margaret can no longer deny the truth that my dad — her Grampa (when she was about two, Margaret would call my dad "Crapaw" which we thought was hilarious ... him, not so much) — is gone from our lives now. Shortly after my mom arrived, Margaret asked, "Is Grampa ever coming back?" She talks about him and we talk about him and that helps. But that doesn't seem to be enough for Margaret anymore. Yesterday while we were driving in the car with my mom, Margaret asked if my mom was going to get me a new daddy. I tried to assure her that I was a grown woman and didn't need a new daddy. She wasn't convinced. Margaret decided she's going to find me a new daddy. "How about that sheriff? Should I ask him to be your new daddy?" she shouted. Both my mother and I tried to convince her that I would be just fine, but she became more and more zealous. "How about that guy?" she pointed to a man working in his yard. "Those girls?" "That dog?" OK now she was just being silly. And I was glad of it. I am glad that she's asking questions and thinking about it. I'm glad that she's coming to terms with the fact that death is a part of life and that she's finally grieving ... in her own Margaret way.