Miranda Came, and Miranda Went

Good morning.

Miranda came, and Miranda went.

Nothing of her visit was just what I'd have wished, except Miranda herself.

What a strange experience, and what a privilege, to have around us for a few days, an eighteen-year-old girl!  I have not been close to any eighteen-year-old girl since I was one myself, in 1947! 

How smart she is!  How bright!  How lucid! How quick!

First thing I noticed is that she was visibly frustrated when my old hubby was driving around after we picked her up.  I'd already told him that we were going to let Miranda do a lot of the driving, but he wasn't ready!  Her capable young hands and brains were itching to get her hands on the wheel as I could see, so, when he was too sick to go out with us the next morning I took the wheel myself to show her a couple of things in the neighborhood, then turned it over to her.  She's an excellent driver and has a good sense of direction so that by this morning she well could have (and would have) driven us to the airport without any coaching, but that I wanted to be the one to pick out and try alternate routes in case of freeway problems in the rush hour morning traffic.

We went everywhere from La Jolla to San Ysidro.  She covered all of this part of SD County in her seven days. We covered it, with Miranda driving.  She saw the whole coast from La Jolla down, and loved it all.  She loved Coronado best, as people often do...while I wonder why.  But they do. 

After day one, Grandpa was sick in bed, coughing terribly and very fatigued. On day four, while Miranda was out with friends, he finally allowed himself to be driven to the Walk-In Clinic at Otay Mesa.  He has pneumonia, and is still in bed accompanied by Zithromax.  But Miranda and I kept on truckin', because, though I couldn't do as much walking as I'd like to, we could DRIVE. And SHOP.  And EAT. Oh, my.

In the evenings, we watched TV or rented a movie. We talked and talked.  I loved every minute of it.

So, she is gone. I did not know what her visit would be like. Now I know her a lot better, though.  I know her planned college major (she's a freshman at U of Iowa) and her interests and dreams.  She did not ask me for advice, and I offered her little.  What the visit was, was two women getting to know each other a little better, an old one and a very very young one.

She's a very young woman with beautiful hair, eyes and skin, and a good figure and lots and lots and lots of energy. (At 82, I  notice that the most.)  She is perceptive, and is kind.  She was nice to old Grandma, even at times when it must have difficult.  The cat Freckles loved her dearly and is now meowing that she is gone. So am I, in my heart.  Now to get Grandpa over the pneumonia. YAZZYBEL