Grandpa's Painting

There's a painting in our house that hangs in the living room above the couch. It's a picture of a cabin in the woods and it belonged to my grandpa. My grandpa sadly passed in August last year. It was shortly before Charlie and I left the west coast for the east. And the night before my best friend's wedding.
I hope this doesn't sound awful, but my little buddy was conceived the day of the funeral. Not so much as a response to the funeral, more a product of the bowl of margarita I had with some family members afterwards and the subsequent quick paint job we had to throw on the apartment to get back our full deposit before we moved. Which subsequently we didn't get. (Another story for another time)
So the goofy thing about this, (sorry, there is a point and I'm getting there) my little buddy has this insatiable need to be by this painting. She'll be screaming bloody murder and if I take her over by the painting she will start cooing and smiling and giggling her little half chuckle that sounds more like Beavis than anything right now.
I imagine that Penny is somehow tied to my grandpa. I think sometimes she can see him in the painting. Like it's some kind of portal to heaven and he -and maybe sometimes my grandma Dee- are standing inside the painting making faces at her and comforting her. I'm so sad they didn't get to meet her here on earth and at the very least, I guess it's Grandpa's way of helping me calm down the baby when I'm having a rough morning. It makes me feel less lonely to see her smiling at his painting.