I miss Jeanette

I miss Jeanette

  • I miss her feet.  I miss rubbing them when they were sore with lotion that smells like Lemon Pledge.
  • I miss her lavender body oil.  (I burn candles to remember, but they just aren’t the same.)
  • I miss the smell of her skin.
  • I miss her red heart-shaped mirror sunglasses.
  • I miss her gap-toothed smile,
  • I miss her long and beautiful hair.  I loved when her mom would braid it, but my braids never looked as good.
  • I miss her light blue eyes, and the compassionate knowing they showed.
  • I miss her breasts — her huge “Tracts of Land” and the best stress relievers ever.
  • I miss her playfulness.
  • I miss her compassion — to me, to Asimov, and to every child and floofy dog she met.
  • I miss her curative intelligence.  (For music playlists, our book collection, comics, movies, Pinterest, and everything else)
  • I miss her love; I miss our love.
  • I miss her inclusionary acceptance for anyone who was just hanging on to the edge of our circle of friends.  
  • I miss her connecting me more broadly and deeply to a wide circle of friends and friend-family.
  • I miss our dreams together.  Of being parents. Of growing old together.
  • I miss our life together.
  • I miss watching TV with her.  Especially something like Master Chef Jr.
  • I miss how God knit us together.

I miss Jeanette.

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