That was a rather sweet thought, and Jude hoped that the memories never faded. Even with the pain losing her father in more recent memory, she wanted to hold on to those memories, to never forget her humanity. Her parents had worked hard to give her a good life, and despite her human life's abrupt premature end, she was still here, still herself. "Thank you," she murmured, appreciating the musing quite a bit.
The way Astrid shared her own favorite childhood memory pulled Jude in, and it was as though she could smell the Boraxo (a scent she'd nearly forgotten but came back to her immediately). It was an incredibly precious memory, and her heart ached for the little girl Astrid had been, growing up without her mother--she couldn't relate precisely on that point, but she'd lost her own mother so young and her step-mother, while warm and caring, had been completely different from her mother. "Your father sounds wonderful," she said softly when Astrid finished sharing the memory. "My dad wasn't big or rough or anything, he was an academic, but I could easily imagine him doing the same sort of thing in that kind of situation. That's a really special thing, and you're so lucky to have him. He's still around, right?" she asked. Astrid had spoken of him in the present tense, after all, but that wasn't always a guarantee, as sometimes she still slipped into the present tense when talking of her own father. Not often anymore, but sometimes.