Hey Fahja,

Did you ride along with me today when I went on the annual inventory count trip to the range? I invited you to, but I didn't know if you were with me when I asked. It's hard to tell. I sure hope you were there, because I know for a fact there were some stories you would have enjoyed (the hot dog? O. M. G.) It was also nice to meet some of the people who knew and loved you. Why did you never tell me that Margie wanted to set me up with her son?! Haha, two years ago and you would have been all over that shit. I got the distinct impression that you were worried I'd never find someone, or at least that I'd never find someone I deemed worthy, to spend the rest of my life with. Oh, that match.com certainly is a bombass romantic networking tool, isn't it?

There are rumors floating around this family you left behind that you may have visited Taylor a couple mornings ago. Amanda II sent Red and me an email at work telling us that Taylor was having a pretty animated conversation with an invisible someone seated across from her at the breakfast table. I hear the interaction was complete with waves and head tilts and sweet little "byes" spoken in that sweet little voice. I firmly believe, as Amanda does (and Red, and Mom...I haven't talked to Mike about it yet) that it really was you. And I think you chose the perfect person to visit and at the perfect time. You knew that Amanda would witness this interaction and would describe it to us and we would all know with a little more certainty that you are with us, watching over us. Plus, Taylor is too young to understand what's happened, so she's not at all creeped out by the fact that her dead grandpa was sitting at the table with her. Therefore, she will not have nightmares for the rest of her life as a result of your visit, like I might have. It's touching and sweet and makes me cry and I hope you continue to visit her because she deserves to know what an awesome guy you were, even if you can no longer be the favorite grandpa in Kugler because I'm pretty sure ghosts don't drive fourwheelers or build playhouses. I mean, you can still totally be the favorite, but for other reasons and not necessarily the one she wants to visit in Kugler because (even better!) you're visiting her in the comfort of her own home.

Tonight I'm missing the annual employee association shindig. There's $12 a month for a year ($144?) that I'll never get back. Oh well. Your death fell right around the rsvp deadline so it slipped my mind. And by slipped my mind, I mean I couldn't have given a shit less even if somebody reminded me. Besides, there were going to be a few people there that I really don't like and have no desire to see outside of work. Mix that with free alcohol and it's a recipe for disaster. I'd like to keep my job and Drunk Angie never leaves a favorable first impression.

Are you working magic on my plants from heaven? Remember that peace lily that was among the many plants the Crowne Plaza sent to the house when Grandma died? Of course, you don't. Why would you? So, you'll just have to believe me when I say that there was a peace lily and I took it home. Now, I'm no green thumb, but I have been working my ass off for nearly two years now trying to keep that bad boy alive. It often seems to be thriving but... Okay, I know nothing about plants, but I associate those spiky white things with health and, for at least a year and a half, I have not been able to get it to grow any of those damn spiky white things. But now? Now there are at least three. I can't explain it. Oh, small miracles.

I'm off to decide to brainstorm with Nick for something fun to do tonight.

Love,
Angie