Remember how when Tirian saw the Kings and Queen of Old for the first time, he couldn’t help but ask after their sister? Remember how Peter swallowed the lump in his throat to be as diplomatic a leader as he could be, saying she “wasn’t a friend,” and hoping they would move on? Remember how Lucy and Edmund kept quiet as Jill and Eustace and Polly took their turns sharing their thoughts, never interrupting, never defending her, because they knew that what they said wasn’t all wrong? They didn’t know Susan forgot to defend them, that day, too. They just didn’t have the strength to defend her any longer.
Because don’t you remember how Susan’s siblings would pray for her every night, even when they couldn’t bear to talk to her? How even though they nearly hated her at times, they loved her so much that sometimes all they could do was offer their fears and hopes to God, as they prayed that she would see him, too?
Remember how Lucy left a drawing in the back of her bible; a little lamppost “for Susan” in case she never “did the things she did before?” Remember how Peter wrote down all his thoughts and lessons and prayers in a journal, and even if he didn’t mention her name, his love for Susan bled onto every page? Remember how Edmund kept a prayer journal, as an effort to keep himself focused, and every other page contained his fears for her, his love for her, his worry for her, his hopes for her, and the pain he felt at seeing her turn from the person who saved him?
Don’t you remember how much they cared?
And don’t you remember that Lucy asked Aslan constantly if Susan would remember, and every time he told her the same thing: No one is told any story but their own. Don’t you remember how much she longed for a direct answer? Remember how her face lit up the day she saw a glint in Aslan’s eye that suggested her sister would be coming home?
Remember how Peter, Edmund, and Lucy were the first to greet her inside the gates?
Well, then, don’t you remember how Susan collected it all in a box? The stories Polly had been writing, about magic rings and quiet woods, and Lucy’s bible, and her brothers’ journals? Don’t you remember when she read them? How she met Aunt Alberta for the first time in years, and discovered more mystery in Eustace’s journal than she’d have ever thought him capable of? Remember, won’t you, how the 7 Friends of Narnia left pieces of themselves behind, and how they formed into a path for one lost girl to follow?
Remember when Susan remembered?
Remember, please, that there was always a place for Susan. An empty chair at the dinner table; an empty throne in the castle; and a lamppost in the woods. Remember that Susan forgot, but would never be forgotten.