S P R I N G !!!!

It's here! My second favorite time of the year. Spring heralds summer (my favorite time) and in my mind it is all about beginnings. Everything and anything seems possible in Spring. The flowers come back and you can smell them often times before you see them. On my walk yesterday the jasmine and the honeysuckle were wafting and enticing me. The weather is kinder, gentler. The summer birds start to come back and their laughter and chatter can be heard from sunup to sundown. We get cabin fever and decide to clean our homes and organize our closets. We get to switch out clothes and hang our winter coats up and out of the way! Here in the South of France the change in seasons is not as noticeable as home in Rhode Island but a bit more than Florida. Here, the sun gets warmer, the flowers blossom and the color of the sea changes to a deep and inviting blue. And the summer restaurants along the beach re-open!

I wonder why there aren't Spring resolutions like there are New Year's? I think we should start some.

My resolutions for Spring 2012 (a wonderful excuse to use bullet points!):

• Lose 10 more pounds before summer. 
• Drastically cut my hair and get a summer ready style. (suggestions please!)
• Visit the gym while I'm in Florida during April and May regularly and tone up!
• Set time aside every day to work on my book.
• Work on finding a way to sell my crazy crochet animals.
• And come up with a name for my crochet business. (help with this one would be great too!)

Well, I have a ton more resolutions I could add but enough is enough. I want to actually reach these, so let's leave the list there.

How about you? Leave me a comment about your Spring 2012 resolutions!!

In flux

I am trying to decide whether I should switch to a different blog setup. I want to get the most readers and followers I can and I wonder if a change would facilitate that. Since I know just about nothing about blogging and getting my blog visited, I'm really writing blind here. Any and all suggestions that you dear readers would like to make, I accept gratefully. And here is a link to a practice switch that I am thinking about.  http://mindofahummingbird.tumblr.com/  Please visit it and let me know what you think.

Should I stay or should I go?

Car accidents that haunt you years later...

In 2008 I was driving along with my sunroof open and my windows rolled down, soaking in the late afternoon sun on a hot July Friday. Traveling at about 40 mph, moving with traffic, I saw a white flash out of the corner of my right eye and then BAM!  I was hit by a box truck that was exiting the freeway without stopping or yielding to the flow of traffic. The truck hit my little red Subaru on the A-pillar of the right side and smashed the car in all the way to the gas cap. My car was shoved across the busy street where I came to a dead stop. Miraculously, no other cars hit me. Thankfully my window was down so my head and upper body swung outside the car and then back in. Although I was sore and my kidneys were bruised, I did not sustain any immediate and more serious injuries.

Except that today, while visiting my French Homeopathic doctor for another treatment of my neck/arm and shoulder pain on the left side, he asked me if I had ever been in a car accident.  Um...yeah, why?

Well, this pain that I have been living with now for over 4 weeks may be due to that same car accident years ago. The tingling down my arm, the stiffness in my neck and the occasional left-side headaches that I suffer with are all long term injuries from that guy not obeying the traffic law, striking my car at 50 mph. It is a real possibility that I may have developed arthritis in my neck causing all of this pain, a condition that will only deteriorate as I...  wait for it.....AGE!

Arthritis....at 34.   So discouraging!

The next car I buy will have to have side-impact airbags!

Things I've lost, Things I've gained

So here is a silly list I have compiled of the things I miss about the USA when I am in France: (in no particular order)

Free parking almost everywhere I need to go

Microwave popcorn

Chocolate chips

Roads that don't make me carsick when we drive 

My car

My king sized bed

Iced coffee (no, making it at home is NOT the same)

Privacy

My family and friends

Mint frozen yogurt from Publics

A bath tub

Screens on the windows

Air conditioning 

A bathroom and a kitchen I can actually fit in without bruising some part of my body

Speaking the language easily (but still not well)

A dishwasher

A garbage disposal

And on the flip side, this is my missing things about France list that I notice most when I'm stateside:

The views from everywhere you look

The pastry, bread and food available

The sea outside my window

Afternoon naps

The wine 

The cheese (its ridiculous how much is so readily available)

The frozen yogurt (only in the summer, down in Menton)

Anna (since she is here in France now)

Walking by the olive tree garden 

The Roman ruin next door

Walking along the sea with Dennis and Anna

Sunday drives into the mountains and eating out

Bernard cooking for us on Saturdays

The sounds of the sirens here (yes, I like them)

Waking up in the middle of the night to the moon shinning in our bedroom window

The quiet pace of our life here

The constant state of adventure (even going grocery shopping can be an adventure)

I've seen Fire and I've seen Rain

I have a playlist of songs entitled "songs that make me cry".  At my old job, during surgery we would sometimes listen to a list we affectionately called "songs to kill yourself to".  Dennis looks over at me and says "why do women do that? Listen to music that upsets them?"  It is crazy. But somehow the weight in your chest that feels like it has no release, when you listen to certain music and let the pain out, the pressure lessens. Or so it seems to.

There is a bottle of water on the table in front of me. And it made me think about how much water we have drank since we went food shopping a few days ago. And that we need more water...and then I thought, my life has gone on. I'm living, breathing and drinking water. How could I when people I love are gone.

"Just yesterday morning, they let me know you were gone........

I've seen fire and I've seen rain, I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end, I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend but I always that that I would see you again"

Grieving has a process, life moves forward. Its healthy and natural. But it feels so wrong. How can life move on when a huge piece of you is missing? How? There are so many stories I haven't told her, so many things to ask her, so many ways to make her laugh, so many things to get her support on. How can life just keep moving when I don't want it to? How did I let this happen? Am I forgetting her?

And then you think about the people still in your life that you don't get to see. You are missing out on their lives, the moments every day that mold them, change them.  Daily events and decisions. Joy and fears, highs and lows. And no manner of distant contact can make up for not being there. And I am not there right now. I am so very far away, from all the things I love. 

Life is even more fragile then I ever thought, even more fleeting.  People simply disappear and there is nothing you can do. No manner of wishing or wanting or pleading will bring them back again. I went to France in a bubble of newness and joy the first time. And while I was gone, everything changed. And that changed me. I'm sitting at this table staring at a bottle of water, listening to James Taylor, crying over memories I am afraid to lose. Crying over the memories I am missing out on. Crying because I am living when people I love are sleeping. People I need. And no matter how hard I cry, the sun will rise and we will need more water tomorrow and we are forced to live, live without them. 

There is a grief that arises from the healing of a pain. As if the sharpness of the pain was tangible enough to hold you tight to that person. And when the pain fades, will they fade with it? Will you be letting them go? Is their face, their voice, their laugh vanishing? I find comfort in the pain. With the pain I know she is close to me, I can see her tossing her salad with her cargo pant capris and lipstick on. She is alive in my memories, even within the cloud of pain so heavy I can't take a breath. She is there, cheering me on, laughing at my stories. She is still alive and well in my mind. If I heal, I will forget. If I forget, I will die.

"thought I'd see you one more time again"

Reflections

What is home? Beyond the cliques and the poets, the song lyrics and the comics…what makes us feel home?  For my mother-in-law (my belle-mére) this apartment with the views of the sea is home for her.  With the collections of  pictures on every surface and every wall, with the piano in the corner with the bust of Beethoven sitting on top, staring sightlessly out at me.  With the orange awnings that must be wound up or down throughout the day depending on the location of the sun. The sound of scooters and motorbikes zooming by and the parking lot below her balcony with its constant traffic to keep her occupied and entertained.  Home to her is here, in France.  No matter how hot it gets or cold, no matter how far it is from her children.  This is where her sweaters are and her slippers.  This is where her memories are. This is where she wants to be.

I remember most the smell of home.  Earliest memory tells me that the smell of safety and home was imbedded in my mother’s sweater.  Not just any or every sweater she had. It was one specific sweater, ivory colored with big buttons.  Not scratchy wool, most likely cotton and it smelled like mom.  Like comfort.  Not a specific perfume or product.  Just the essence of my mother and no matter what, with that sweater I felt everything would be ok.  It was powerful.  It was home. When I felt scared without her, the sweater calmed me down.

Here, living in a foreign land with no markers of my own, I feel like I’m drifting through a current, in someone else’s home.  I have no mom sweater.  I’ve heard people say that home is where your love is.  Well, my love is here.  My heart is in France.  But my spirit is adrift. Maybe I am without physical location currently and therefore am not at rest.  I have been rootless for so long, drifting from roommate to parents to living with my in-law…perhaps my soul is in a holding pattern..like a hummingbird not ready to land.  For me, home is what I carry with me, deep inside me.  The stories I know, told and untold, the memories I cherish and the dreams I hold dear.  And some day I will have walls to pin those memories up on and slippers to keep.  But for now, home is a goal, a distant hope and the reality is constant movement and change,  the sweet nectar of a passing flower.

A year from now

I am that type of person. The kind who takes things like moments, dates, anniversaries seriously. I stop, reflect...feel sad about the passage of time and wonder about the coming year. The next thing.


Paris.  All I ever wanted was to see Paris.  I would dream of learning French and walking through the streets unconcerned and at home, like a native. I would wander in my mind along cobble stones streets and across bridges, listening to the history of a world I've never know, getting lost in the immensity of it all. 


I've never been to Paris.


I can't speak French 


And yet, in less than a month, I am moving to Roquebrune Cap-Martin, France. 


600 miles south of Paris.


A year and half ago I was living in a room off my parents' kitchen. Not even a bedroom but a living room off my parents' kitchen. With all of my possessions in a 5 x 10 foot storage unit, except for my dog and my shoes and my many many clothes. And my TV.


And now I am married and living in Florida, with my dog and some of the shoes and more and more clothes.  I am trying to pack three months worth of clothes into 2 suitcases that will weigh less than 50 pounds a piece.  Sounds like a math problem that requires paper and a number 2 pencil to figure out. 


Life is wild, if you let it be. If you live without fear or at least without letting fear rule you. I was afraid for years. After dreaming of Paris....I forgot how to dream and I boxed myself in with fear as my only companion. 


I still feel fear. And regret. I still worry about what could have been, or should have been or what I didn't do. And yet, even with all of that, I am moving to France. I am going to learn French. I am going to write more every day. This is what I promise myself, today, June 18. The 34th anniversary of my beginning. I will reach that goal I dreamt of when I was young and poetic and a wanderer of wooded places. In the years when I would sit on the rocks under the trees in the woods behind where we lived and dream of what could be. I will learn French and not be afraid of new places and new things because that girl, that young dreamer reading poetry out loud to the babbling brook at her feet and the chickadees in the branches over head, because she believes in me. http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&pwst=1&q=roquebrune+cap+martin+france&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.&biw=1276&bih=595&um=1&ie=UTF-8&hq=&hnear=0x12cde999c102ce85:0x23682a842cf14aa0,Roquebrune-Cap-Martin,+France&gl=us&ei=ok79Te6tKYnBtgf58u28Dg&sa=X&oi=geocode_result&ct=title&resnum=1&ved=0CCIQ8gEwAA