I Just Don't Know

     People ask me often, "How's it going with Jenny gone?"  It's hard to answer. Lately I've said fine, but it's not quite true.  Temporary amnesia makes me answer so.  Plus hen I'm busy or with other people, I usually feel normal.
     But several days ago at the YMCA I lapsed into tears about a small thing - having the older exercise machines - the ones I know - disappear. Never mind that the new machines have been there at least two years now, I wanted the old ones.  I didn't want to have to make and keep an appointment with a trainer. (Three times previous I've made appointments and canceled or forgotten them.)
     I reluctantly made an appointment anyways  - since now I can't work on keeping my bone density unless I use the new machines. I mentioned that when I did have an appointment with a trainer some six years ago, I had a bad experience.  My voice got quavery.  Tears filled my eyes.  Geez.  All this emotion about a slightly rude, forceful person some five years ago.  That's grief.
    And yesterday, that is Sunday, I stayed at home trying to enjoy doing quiet activity while my husband was absorbed in a project, trying to rest.  That's when I keenly missed her presence.  I wanted to know how church was for her that morning. I wanted to know if she's enjoying her classes more.  If her textbooks have come in. How her weekend went.  I looked for some photos to send her at her request. I cried. I wrote her a letter, with a pen on green stationary.She's requested the handwritten variety.
    Fortunately, she called tonight. I got to ask some of my questions answered as my husband held his cell phone with speaker activated.
    I was relieved when she left on August 29.  Most parents of college bounds kids are I hear.  Those last two months are usually quite difficult.  Now November 9 - when I get to see her again - looms so far away.