Jane read the letter for the second time. Dear Jane, It was so nice to have lunch with you today. I smiled the whole way home; I'm just so damn proud and happy to be your mother. When you were three, you used to do the cutest thing. We would be sitting on the coach, and then you would just get up and walk over to coffee table and have a conversation with an imaginary clerk. Some days you would be buying shoes, some days, apples, some days eggs. But you would always negotiate and right from the start you learned your lessons well. Never make the first offer and never accept their first. You were just so adorable then. And now, with a three year old of your own, I wonder if the scene acts itself out all over again. It's hard to believe you're 40 now. I must tell you, that was a hard year for me. I really felt a loss of energy and had a hard time finding my rhythm again. If you go through this, don't worry, it will pass. You will find your step, your way again. And, how do I say this. Another big shift happened when I turned 40. I felt less attractive. The men who used to notice me, noticed me less. The side glances, the turned heads, the innocent flirtations, all seemed to evaporate at once. I adjusted, but it took some time. I had to rediscover your father again. Why am I writing all this doom and gloom? I mean you looked fabulous, you were simply beaming. Tell me, are you pregnant again? I can't explain it, you just had that certain glow. I'm so glad to hear your new job is going well. It's amazing they would promote you so fast. But I know you deserve it. From the day you were born I knew you were special. Are special. They say a son goes with his wife's family and a daughter stays with hers. Well, that is certainly true in our case. You've taken such good care of me since Dad died. Can you believe it's been 14 years? And here it is Mother's day and you take me to lunch. Next week I'm taking you, it's long overdue. I was reading the Wally Lamb book you gave me for Christmas. It ended with three things he knew to be true. First, god exists in round things. Second, mongrels make good dogs. And finally, love springs from the depths of forgiveness. May we all find a little forgiveness on this day. Love, Mom. Jane, put her pen down. Satisfied with her writing and the anger it released she tore the paper in to squares each smaller than the last. She took the remains flushed them like a dead rat. Her final stop for the night was the freezer and a pint of ben and jerrys.