Foto, above, circa 2015, for the 70th birthday of Kip's Toyland at the Original Farmers Market, LA. It was the hottest October day ever, and I didn't intend to stay long however, I was invited to cut the birthday cake and couldn't say no. I think I look pretty cool for the hot day!
As I get ready to leave for France next week, I’ve been reflecting on how I feel when I’m there, relative to how I feel when I’m not there.
At the moment I’m just thinking about how, when there, I actually feel younger, more ageless, even more alive, than I do lately. This is quite possibly because a lot of the group conversations around me lately are about medical diagnoses, procedures, appointments, etc. And rhetoric about being old and what’s going to happen next (re: medical diagnoses, procedures, appointments, etc.). With all due respect, it’s exhausting and quite depressing, not to mention royally boring.
Mind you, I do not understand French that fluently and perhaps this is a thing in France as well. (I do find it amusing that French friends tell me that their people have the market on complaining.) Since I believe that their personal health is considered to be a very private matter, I’m hoping it will be a long while before I am privy to such conversations.
This summer, I’ll have little Renata and her adorable little cousins to keep me company, and we all know I can wax poetic for months and years about the bliss of Neverland. I’m also thinking of something that I heard last December, when I was in La Rochelle, that I won’t be forgetting anytime soon.
The week before Christmas, I attended a Bach Chorale concert at the beautiful concert venue in town. I was seated next to a lovely French couple. Isabel opened a conversation with me, and soon admitted, we speak English, we live in Austin, Texas!
This gave way to a lively and wonderful conversation between the three of us! They explained that for most of the last 20 years, Pierre’s work had taken the family to Texas; their children went to school there. Now they were moving back to France, and had just moved into their new apartment in La Rochelle. It had no furniture, only 2 chairs. I smiled to imagine this situation.
What is that like for you? I had to know!
It’s like being young again, Isabel mused. She smiled to add, It’s fun to feel young.
I agree. And I’ll never forget how her calm, trusting, sweet joy made me feel.
Last summer, my French family hosted me for a glorious Saturday with a big barbeque lunch, afternoon at the beach, and a family outing that evening to visit the hub of La Tranche Sur Mer, the beach town where the cousins had all grown up together.
There is a famous candy shop that used to make signature candy sticks at night, and they would go to buy them freshly made, when they were still warm. We arrived at the store to learn that they no longer made the sticks at night. Still, each member of our three generations enthusiastically chose our favorite flavor of candy stick, to walk seaside and enjoy them together.
All along the way, family members recounted stories of their youth at this beach, memories of days gone by, and it made my heart so happy. I felt privileged to listen and picture their stories in my mind’s eye. I positively loved feeling included in this very special summer experience with them. It was surely a highlight of my own summer.
I hope I speak for all of us when I say that we all felt young, and it was very fun.
Now then. Some may say that Life is not-only-and-all-about-old-world-candy sticks.
And I say well, what if more – and even most - of Life, was?
As in, The sweetness of Life.
Ah oui. I intend to be fluent only in that, please and thank you.
Comments