Chère Paris ~

Dear Paris,

You hold my children's smiles.

You hold museum adventures, river boat cruises, carousel rides and tower climbs.
You hold family visits and friend visits and all our visits from Père Noel.

It was on your sidewalks that we walked through those first years, their little hands in mine. The daily routine and grand adventures of their childhood are engraved in your stone, planted in your parks and woven into the fabric of your culture. O, city of lights, you hold their firsts. First steps. First teeth. First words. First friends. First schools. First achievements. First failures. First heroes. And first loves. For more than a decade we called you home. Home. We were honored to call you home.

My heart has been broken, just broken to pieces these last days. I remember the fear and uncertainty that stunned all of us here in the days and weeks after the Bosotn Marathon attack. My heart aches for the loss. For the loss of the sense of safety and refuge that home implies. For each family and friend that has suffered loss. And for the children, who have, if only for this moment, lost their smiles.

My dear Paris. One thing I know is that when the stain of these last days has been washed from your stone walls and walkways...when the laughter of children fills each little park down the street....when your cafes, restaurants, theaters and arenas are alive with the threads that have woven the rich tapestry of la culture française... when shock and horror fade gently into an echo of pain, you, my dear Paris, will be standing strong. As you've stood so many, many times throughout your history. As you stood to protect all of us living there after your metros were brutally attacked. You've stood. You stand. And, I hope you know, that the world stands with you.

Yes, Paris...you hold my children's smiles. Their childhood. I am forever grateful to have lived in the heart of such a great city. I long to return. To spend time with you yet again. I know that when that day comes, I will find you essentially ~ in your essence, in that which makes you great ~ unchanged.

And I will find my children's smiles in the chatter and laughter and smiles of les précieux enfants who continue to call you home.

Paris, je t'aime.



Linking with Kim and Kat

Orange Sky

Well, I had a dream

I stood beneath an orange sky

Yes I had a dream

I stood beneath an orange sky

With my brother standing by

With my brother standing by

I said, "Brother, you know you know

it's a long road we've been walking on

Brother, you know it is you know it is

Such a long road we've been walking on."

{Alexi Murdoch, lyrics}

Sometimes,

when you've been feeling like crap,
a good thing happens in the middle of the pity party you've been throwing.

Your brother sends you cute photos of your little nephew.

Photos of his family

and some play time in the water.

And the sunshine smiles brighten your {otherwise} miserable day.

And the knowledge of how

completely

stinkin'

happy

your brother is brings tears to your eyes.

The good kind of tears.

And then...

you really start to miss him.

And feeeeeeeeeeeel all those many miles that separate you.

And you get all nostalgic

and start looking at scrapbooks.

Then,

because you're already nursing the worst cold in the history of mankind,
and this is, after all, a pity party,

you get all

"woe is me"

and

"where did the time go"

and

"why am I not on a beach...."

So,

you go to bed.

And dream.

And, as is often the case,

when my brother is on my heart,

he is also very close to me in my dreams.

At some point last night,

as I fitfully slept and coughed and slept some more,

we swam together.

And for that moment
there was no cold,
no melancholy,
no distance...
only peace
and laughter
and
the two of us.
Still together.
As close as ever as we navigate this
long road called life.





Joining Kathy for
Song-ography

Story Time

It was sunny and warm.

It was a Monday...

which meant that most of the "sights to see" were closed.

Most things, that is, except the chocolate shop!

So, stop for chocolate we did.

Yum.

And while shopping for one thing,

as is often the case,

something else entirely caught our attention!

Right near the register we found a little booklet.

Inside the booklet was a treasure map.

What for you ask?

Why, for all the story book statues scattered through out the down town area of Abilene!

So...

go on a treasure hunt we did.

Two fifty-somethings.

No kids {or grandkids} in tow.

Just two friends,

quickly devouring their melting chocolate covered strawberries,

and 

thoroughly enjoying each whimsical creation.

There were many characters from The Guardians of Childhood book series by William Joyce.
{made me want to read all the books...which I confess I'd never heard of!}

And these young fellows in the boat were pointing the way to my favorite spot...

A Dr. Seuss Garden!!!

I'd say this afternoon jaunt was the definition of

Good, Random FUN!!

Joining Tamar for
The Good. The Random. The Fun.

Black & White Wednesdays ~ Humility

I'll never forget the first moment when my perspective shifted. That moment when I first knew, as a young teenager that I was NOT, in fact, the center of the universe. I was standing along side some temple ruins on a hilltop in Greece, looking out at the most spectacular vista I had ever witnessed. And I knew in an instant that I was little more than dust in the wind. The odd thing about the shift was that this understanding of how infinitesimally small I was compared to the expanse of all space and time, filled me NOT with a sense of INsignificance, but with a sense of purpose. Of destiny. And of importance.

As I look back on my life since that moment, it is the things that renew this humility deep inside of me that also fill me with the most gratitude. Having had the chance to live over seas, to make my home in a 'foreign' land, is one such experience. It's not the simple, day to day "humiliations" that made this journey such a rich one...though there are plenty of those when you choose to live life while speaking a foreign language in a far off land. No. It is the lesson I learned repeatedly while in Europe: there's no one right way. We have a tendency, perhaps especially as Americans, to think that what is familiar, or what works for us, is the best solution for everyone. It is truly awe-inspiring to learn about other cultures and come to understand a frame of reference that is alien to our own....to come to believe - not just intellectually, but also viscerally - that there are many answers to some of life's most basic questions. And that learning from one another will only ever serve to better us all.

Parenting had, and continues to have, the same effect on my soul. What an irrational honor and responsibility to have the lives of little humans placed into our hands. Just looking into my children's eyes can bring me back, metaphorically speaking, to that hillside in Greece. How has this miracle landed in my path? How will I ever manage, unschooled and ill-equipped as I am, to guide their journey? Faced with this task I have felt so marvelously insignificant and so wonderfully vital. Simultaneously. What a humbling journey we share, this parenthood journey. May we genuinely share this journey, and find strength along the way as we learn from each other.

When I came across this photo of my two little ones at the very bottom of the giant Eiffel Tower, it seemed to capture this feeling of being infinitesimally small, and yet profoundly significant at the same time. Look at their joy. The innocence and capriciousness. They are care-free and unaware of the greatness above them. They explored, discovered and gave themselves wholly to the moment in front of them, only later coming to understand the significance of this early part of their journey.

Thank you, mountain top in Greece. Thank you, Paris. Thank you, my darling children. Thank you for giving me a delicious taste of this dish known as humility. I am always hungry for more.

Please share your black & white

photos with us here today!

I'm joining Communal Global

for Wednesday's Around the World

Les Cafes

"We'll get a table by the street,
in our old familiar place,
you and me face to face."
Billy Joel

We had our spots. The cafes where everyone knew our names. Places that I'd wander to with my children for an ice cream and a chat. Or a hot chocolate, a coffee and a giggle. We shared many secrets, dreams and happy moments...out on the sidewalks, under the sunny skies with a wine glass in our hands. No matter the age or beverage, everyone is served a wine glass in Paris!

When we stepped outside our neighborhood, one of the most wonderful things about our city was that there was the feeling of "home" on every corner. The little cafes were always ready....with their cane chairs and wobbly round tables. Ready for a good long conversation between best friends. Ready for a pre-movie snack on a date night. Or ready for a visit from a traveling grandmother and her two little Parisian grand kids. 

Joining Kathy for

Song-ography

April in Paris

Eleven Aprils, to be exact.

I've never spoken much in this space about the years we spent in Paris.

Except that almost everything that I share about life with my children

in their early years took place there.

My daughter was nine months old when we moved overseas

and three days shy of twelve when we came back to the states.

My son was born in the city of lights!

And he was nine when we left.

Their whole childhood was lived against the backdrop of this great city.

These photos are from 1988 ~ the April my daughter turned one.

Her birthday was often the reason for a visit from my mom,

so many of our more "touristy" activities took place in April....

which any travel agent will tell you

is a spectacular time to visit Paris.

The first photo {above} was taken at Jardin de Luxembourg...

that place where my kids learned NOT to walk on the grass!

This shot was taken at Sacre Coeur...

I think we loved the tulips and her toothy grin more than the great cathedral!

Here she is with her pinwheel at Notre Dame.

And here's dad trying to sneak her a sip of coke in the Jardin de Luxembourg.

And this...

this is my baby nestled against the grill outside her bedroom window.

So many of our photos are like this one...

they chronicle the milestones and moments of family life

without that much attention to all the history and art that surrounded us.

I have a blog friend Catherine

who's photos of this city that holds so much of my heart capture it perfectly.

You can visit her at her blog home

La Memoire Vive

She's awoken in me a desire to share bits of our Parisian life...

so stay tuned, more of our years there to come!

For now,

know I'm in my office,

working hard...

and dreaming of April in Paris.

Joining Kim for

Little Things Thursday

and Mama Kat for her

Writer's Workshop

Show Tunes

My teen years were not filled with rock and roll. Or disco. Oh, I tried to listen to the radio and I have a few "pop music" memories from {way} back in the day....but my junior high and high school years were filled to the brim with show tunes. I was that girl - the one with the hair brush in front of her bedroom mirror. But I wasn't trying to be Cher...or Carly Simon, Helen Reddy or Joni Mitchell. I wanted to belt out Broadway show tunes like Ethel Merman. And would have traded just about anything I had {or would ever have} to become a Barbra Streisand. Alas.....

As I listened to the leaves rustling under my feet last weekend, breathed in the crisp scent of autumn air and took in the brilliant foliage that surrounded me, I was surprised to see these vibrant pink blooms pop up out of nowhere. They seemed out of place, out of season. I enjoyed photographing them against the background of fallen leaves and yellow trees. In the midst of this letting go season, they stood out as a reminder that new blooms and growth will forever continue...even when we don't see it happening right in front of us.

Gazing at these 'against all odds' roses I seemed to hear Ethel Merman's voice?

"I had a dream,
a dream about you baby.
They think we're through, but baby,

You'll be swell! You'll be great!
Gonna have the whole world on a plate!
Starting here, starting now,
honey, every thing's coming up roses!"

Still a favorite tune...though my hairbrush and mirror days are long gone!

Joining Kim for

Little Things Thursday

and Mama Kat for her

Writer's Workshop

Black & White Wednesdays ~ Madi Bear

This sweet girl is a 
s'more eating

rain dancing

fire warming

upside down hanging

tractor riding

smile sharing

tractor driving

daddy adoring

CAMPING CHAMP!

We love you Madi Bear!

Please join me here and share your
black & white photos!
I'm also sharing this bit of New England with
Wednesday's Around the World

The Wilderness of Your Intuition

Yesterday, while going through a box of old photos, I came across this picture of my son that I took almost twenty years ago. When he was six. My little guy spent hours on this chalet balcony, glued to his binoculars, looking out at the Alps. He'd never seen so much snow. He'd never been up in the heart of mountains like these. And he drank in in. Absorbed it all like a sponge. Once he was back in our little Paris apartment, he drew those mountains. He drew them over and over again. Each time, each mountain was covered with triangles. Hundreds of little, triangular pine trees. My little city boy lost himself to the wilderness that weekend. He discovered part of himself that is with him to this day. Give him a pocket knife, a sleeping bag, a friend or two and some woods....and he's in his element.

About an hour after I found this precious photo {and instagrammed it}, my quote-a-day email pinged my phone. And there was this stunning Alan Alda quote that I'd never read before! There was that phrase ~ the wilderness of your intuition. Wow. I know this is a notion that will sit with me for a long time. As it happens, I am leaving the city of my comfort - I have started to work with a doctor and nutritionist to tackle {what feel like} life long health and weight "issues" - oy. What will I discover as I head into the wilderness of my intuition? Will I be strong enough to trust it? Will the me that I discover there truly be wonderful? I sure as heck hope so!

Today was a good day. In the battle for courage I was sent a lot of ammunition. I found a favorite picture of my son. I discovered a quote. I was sent a sunflower photo, with wishes for a good day, from one friend at 8 am. And I got another sunflower photo and a big "I miss you" from another friend at 9pm. Now it's time for bed....and tomorrow when I get up, I will drink my water, take my vitamins...and do what I can to leave the city of my comfort.

Sharing with friends at

Little Things Thursday

and

Mama Kat's

oh forsythia....

your joy-filled song of

spring carries gentle whispers

of my girlhood home

Joining Kim and Co. for

Little Things Thursday

Of Memories and Back Doors

One of the best things about the back door of my childhood home, is that there were two screen doors to let slam before I reached the yard. The first was at the back of the kitchen, and the second on the other side of the tiny back porch. For some reason, my goody-two-shoes self enjoyed this tiny act of rebellion. Even if I was careful with the first door, so as not to "hear about it" later, that second door was waiting to be released, snapping back with a bang, as I ran out to freedom! 

Japanese magnolia blossoms...walls of ivy...giant oaks...forsythia...beds of pachysandra and lily of the valley.

A tree house...a rope swing..a bat and some balls...a dog to chase and fireflies to catch. 

My back door.

The back yard.

A childhood path to freedom!

This lovely morsel of my childhood is nestled safely in a scrapbook.

And today...this simple photograph, in an album spread out by the back door, took me back.

Took me home.

{Inspired by the Nickelback song Photograph}

Joining Kathy for

Song-ography

and Rebecca for

Simple Things Sunday

Black and White Wednesday ~ Shadow

"We are shaped by our thoughts;

we become what we think.

When the mind is pure,

joy follows like a shadow that never leaves."

Buddha

52 years ago a little girl played with her shadow

by the edge of the deep blue sea.

And her daddy took a photo.
I look at her tonight,
and dare to think that even now
{all these many years later}
 it's possible to still experience more moments of
this pure, playful innocence .

Black & White Wednesday ~ Still Letting Go

leaves take flight
on frigid air
branches bare their souls

my spirit
knows the chill
of
this letting go season

a tear drop
spills gently to the page
where,
pen in hand,
i seek thanksgiving

i wait

wrapped in blankets
wrapped in blessings
my faith
whispers the promise

warmth will return