My daughter loves the fried chicken nuggets in a spicey sauce from a local Chinese-American restaurant. Amazingly, sometimes it is the only thing she can keep down due to her current health challenges.
When visiting her and her wonderful family, and finding out tidbits like that, as well as that her nineteen-month-old son has a large vocabulary and knows many gestures of sign language she has taught him, and that her remarkable husband is installing solar panels as well as digging water lines for their home, I was humbled. Then a larger sense surrounded me: I was part of their family. I helped feed my two grandsons, herded the dogs, weeded sagebrush and nasty pokie weeds to clear space for a garden, fed the goats, and then chased her two sons while their parents did household and farm tasks.
Family, belonging, meaning.
That sense of peace and belonging enveloping me felt lovely. Even as I have my own fulfilling life, it is much more solo and four hundred miles away from them. That sense was a pleasant surprise. To be part of their small community, not an external visitor. Ah, finding the right words to express this now.
Yes, my poppies are blooming. As are my foxgloves and the myriads of daisies. I write this while listening to David Garrett’s spectrum of musical expertise on his violin. Commitment, talent, meaning.
It was not only when hot wings had climbed to the top of the priority list of urgent things to retrieve, they were about to be out of cat litter. With four cats, that is a definite imperative.
So off drove my son-in-law on the forty-minute drive to town to get both the mandated items. As I dug up more weeds and kept an eye on the boys, ages four and a half and one and a half, as they filled buckets with dirt, dumped them out, and ran through it, I had to smile as I thought of my own priorities. Cat litter was in the mix as well, yet this being with my family was now it. They wanted my help. I loved doing it. I rescheduled my trip to France to be here, happily. Priorities, commitment, love.
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O la la, yes, Paris is fabulous.
Venus de Milo at the Louvre. I look forward to the next trip. Sitting at a bistro and watching the people, seeing the cars, taxis, & busses swoosh by, hearing the voices of people talking as they jaunt along the sidewalks, zooming along when riding in the Metro, eating a caramel crepe on the Eiffel Tower!
Breathing in and being in the ambiance of Paris.
When they were building the Glass Pyramid at the Louvre in late 1980’s, which is now the entrance to the spectacular museum, they discovered during the excavations there were ramparts and streets below the ground. Which according to our tour guide, that no one prior to the excavations had any knowledge that the ramparts were there and had been for centuries. The Louvre was built as part of a palace and fortress in the 12th century.
Safety, history, legacy.
From Paris, I will then take the train out to Langres, about a three hour, scenic ride through farmland, villages and the countryside. Langres is another ancient city, dating back to the 3rd century.
Much of my family history is there. And family. Getting to know and build relationships with my cousins who live in and around Langres is a joy and a wonder.
Cousins, walking the ramparts, seeing and being where my great-great grandparents lived.
Family, belonging, history.
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Peace, love, and light to you.
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Text and photos (c) copyright Mary Dessein
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