The Fourth Day of Lent

Dear Momaw,

I promise I think of you everytime I look in my dog's eyes. I know that's weird and everything, but the two of you are sooo alike. First, she is happy every time she sees me, even if she just saw me a few minutes ago. Secondly, she loves everybody and doesn't even know how to hold a grudge. She lives in the present, never even giving a thought as to what tomorrow might bring. I swear I think part of your soul lives in her.

I know you've been gone from this earth for a very long time, but I'm not sure I ever thanked you for the difference you made, and continue to make, in my life. I appreciate all of the stories you told me, and, trust me, I remember them all. I try to make sure that all of the "forgottens" in our family, who are now at the cemetery, have flowers on them for Decoration Day. I know Romans 8:28, even when I'm not certain there's a God. I haven't eaten a real apple pie since the last one you baked, and I smile every time I eat a lemon drop.

I could spend the next year making a list of all the sweet memories I have of you and the lessons that you taught, but tonight, I simply want to thank you for the most important gift that you gave to me -- loving my mother. Because of the love you lavished on her, reminding her of her worthiness, her intelligence, her beauty, telling her often that God had sent her straight from heaven to you, she has been full enough to give those same gifts to me. Even 20 years after your death, the unconditional love that she pours on me has more than a bit of your love mixed in it.

What  little money you left when you died was gone in a matter of a few hours. What was left of your love will be enough to keep this family going for at least another hundred years.

Thank you.
Love, Ang