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)

Heat Wave

It's a heat wave.  The weather has turned on me and we now are enjoying 90 degree days with tons of humidity and no breeze.  The water of the Mediterranean is still and the tops of the trees outside my window are likewise motionless.  The fan I depend on in our room stopped turning, just began to slow and then completely gave out a few days ago and refused to move.  So we were forced to move the portable AC unit into our room and we keep nice and cool while we sleep.  Denise is not bothered by the heat at all and so when I woke at 2 AM for a drink of water I noticed that every door was shut in the house and Denise was sleeping deeply, covered up in her flannel sheets and several wool blankets.  I quickly ran down the hallway and dove into the cool bliss of our room.  An added bonus is that the whir of the AC blocks out almost all scooter noises at night from the road. We live along a very busy route between Monaco and Italy with constant traffic coming and going.  Even in the small hours of the night, scooters and motor bikes throttle along on their way to where ever but with the cool wind from the AC unit I've named Gus, I am not disturbed from my dreams.

A few nights ago, we had taken Denise for a walk down by the water at dusk.  With the setting of the sun, the tourists and locals take to the streets looking for food and entertainment.  It was about 8 PM that we found ourselves on the cliff walk listening to the waves crashing along the rocks, sneaking a peak at an outdoor restaurant with tables set right on the rocks and the smell of barbeque wafting up towards us.  Once the land begins to cool a heavy scent of wild jasmine fills the air.  We have searched  for the flowers themselves but can never seem to find them. However, the scent is every where like a mist hanging about your shoulders as you walk at night here. Only at night.

Once we could no longer maneuver Denise's chair in the dark along the sidewalk and around the ancient trees that break through the pavement and hang toward the water, we came home and ate a late late dinner on the rear balcony, watching the lights of Monaco twinkle in the distance.  With one candle lit on the table, we sipped wine and listened to Denise tell us stories of the farm she lived in as a child.  Of washing clothes over the fire, of reading by kerosene lamps at night.  For entertainment, her step-mother played the piano in the evenings. She spoke fondly of the 'modern' house in Marseilles that they moved into after her father sold the farm/vineyard and how she remembers how excited she was by the bathroom with its running hot water. When Dennis would ask something that Denise could not remember she would say to him in her French accent, "I don't remember Denny, I didn't think to write it down". And when we spoke of how different life is now she said, “we did not know what we were missing or what we did not have. We didn’t miss electricity or running hot water or washing machines because we never knew of them. We were happy as we were”.  And as she spoke with the soft candle light flickering on her face, with her eyes cast back through to the years of her youth, I could see a glimpse of the young woman she must have been, smiling at her future, living in a simpler time before war came to the country and changed everything.

Old Friends

Spent the day with my family and friends that I haven't seen in what feels like a lifetime or more.  Some of them have children grown enough to not remember me, some of them look totally different then when we last spoke and still others haven't shifted in any way.  That amazes me.

Most people who weren't expecting to see me looked genuinely surprised.  They said Hello but then did the double take "Hello!" immediately after.  I hope its because I looked so good that they didn't know it was me.....or maybe they just never thought they'd see me there.  Either way, they were shocked.

Funny how time passes and life passes and a year can slip so quickly for some of us and crawl by so painfully for others.  I felt the loss of one friend just as sharply as ever, the empty seat where she should have been like a beacon to me, pulsing her absence, glaring in my face.  I saw her family, raw still and wounded from losing her.  I am happy to have seen each of their loved faces and held them in my arms, even just for a moment, but the loss of her was like a terrible bitter taste in my throat, strong and burning making breathing difficult and filling my eyes with tears. Its almost been a year. It feels like no time has passed at all without her. I'm still holding my breath, waiting for her to sit down.

Most of all I was with my family, my whole family, together under one roof...as it should be, as I have wanted it to be for a very long time.  The only one missing was Dennis, since he was abandoned by me back in Florida (for further guilty confessions on this subject please see the previous blog entry)

The empty seat next to me was a reminder of the fact that my life and the me I am in my life now has changed in a year too.  Dennis is my life now and even being with all these people I love and miss, without him there is no home.  I am home in location but Dennis is where I hang my hat.  Its a seemingly obvious conclusion to many, I'm sure....but a reassuring one to me nonetheless.   Missing my husband is a good thing in my eyes.

I feel exhausted from the day, all tattered around the edges but not in a negative way.  I feel spent and satisified that I was able to connect with so many people from the pages of my memories.  Especially some toward whom I had given up for lost, scratched them off completely whenever they entered my thoughts.  I am happy to see their faces again and share a laugh with them, as if we saw each other only yesterday.  I have missed them and being in their company again, falling into the old ways with them again was so natural and so right.  Easy....as if nothing has changed.  In a spinning world of change, an island of something constant has a nice feeling to it.

Old friends...old friends..sat on their park bench like bookends....

can you imagine us years from today..sharing a park bench quietly

how terribly strange to be seventy......

time it was and what a time it was it was

a time of innocence, a time of confidences

long ago it must be, I have a photograph

preserve your memories, they're all that's left you

"And if the darkness is to keep us apart, and if the daylight feels like it's a long way off, and if your glass heart should crack and for a second you turn back...oh no, be strong..walk on"

I took myself out of the house this afternoon for a walk to clear my head. My feet found their way to the local olive tree garden just steps away from our apartment. Peaceful and quiet with the scent of wild flowers and the olive trees themselves, it felt like the right place for me to think and be alone. Most of the trees in this garden are well over 500 years old. As I sat there feeling overwhelmed with my sorrows I thought of all that those trees have seen. The joys and the sorrows. How many people have come and sat under their leaves and breathed in their scent and found comfort, just like me? How many have walked here and sat and just let their tears flow without restraint until there were no tears left. Imagine the stories these trees could tell me if only they knew how. If only I knew how to listen. Imagine the secrets that they are guardians of.

Maybe they were speaking to me...maybe their silent sympathy was the comfort I needed. I walked among them until I came across a patch of rose bushes and I stopped to smell each different one. Then I wandered to a batch of sunlight by a very large olive tree. There I found a bench that I laid across and looked up through the leafy arms of the old olive tree to the blue sky with its scattered clouds. I watched the clouds dance past and let my mind think upon things I have been too scared to think about for the past 24 hours. Memories I was afraid to remember, certain that just the mental pictures of my dear friend and all she did for me would crush my glass heart completely. Somehow though, I found the comfort I was seeking and for a few moments the clarity I needed. We are such small pieces of a picture too large for each of us to begin to understand. Laying there among my new friends, breathing in the clean perfumed air I felt less alone in my pain. Miles and miles away from the ones I love, being unable to help them and forced to simply wait to hear, I found a measure of peace in the olive tree garden.

"Who's to say where the wind will take you, who's to say what it is will break you. I don't know which way the wind will blow.......I know that this is not goodbye"