Hello

Such a beauty.
Such a cutie-pie!
This is one of my favorite photos of my daughter.
It was taken on a sunny day at Fontainebleau ~ a beautiful chateau not too far from Paris ~ over 20 years ago!

We shared such very special years in France ~ years that she and I look back on with extreme tenderness. We love the memories of the city itself. Mostly, I think, we love the memories of our years spent together there. Those precious, childhood years. There's just nothing like them! If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times...the joy of motherhood has been my greatest joy. I am profoundly grateful to have shared this child's journey with her...and I look forward to {some day} sharing in her journey when she becomes a 'mommy' herself!



Joining Kathy for Song-ography

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

Six Word Fridays ~ Toast

There was a time, before you

knew me...or dreamed of me...

that life's journey swept you away.

You traveled far. You traveled well.

Eyes open, mind engaged - ever the

student, eager to learn and explore.

Georgia Tech, ROTC, Masters of Architecture,

the Air Force and work abroad...

all those things that came before 

there was a me, before us...

all those years that shaped the 

man who would become my father

are years that I now cherish.

And I cherish those years not

because they filled you with knowledge,

but because they taught you the

greatest lesson you've passed to me:

Never stop questioning. Never stop learning.

As a professor, as a mentor

and especially as a parent, you

passed on a heart to learn.

You passed on the heart of

the young man I see in

these gorgeous old, newly discovered, photographs.

The man I see here is 

the man I know. Though time
may have added a few wrinkles,

the humble eyes and broad smile
are unchanged. I see, in the
young man, the father I love -
ever and always eager to learn.

And so, daddio, here's to you!

I raise my glass and toast

the man who's shown me the

wisest of ways...the way of

the learner, the student of life.

{Click on the link in the menu bar to learn about Six Word Fridays and please join in the fun!}

Also linking this post to

Little Things Thursday

and

Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop

Six Word Fridays ~ Go

{Through my father's lens, Paris, 1958}

Let us go. Together...on a
trip down memory lane. You'll take
me to Paris in the fifties.
You'll take me into the heart
of your dreams and I'll make
them my own. I'll dream of
the Champs Elysee, the iron tower
and men with baguettes and berets.
When my dream comes true, some
thirty years later, you'll visit me...
and we'll walk the golden streets
together. I'll be making new memories,
and you'll be telling me stories
from days gone by. This old
city cast it's spell on a
father and his daughter ~ held us
both in her magic arms for 
a time, and changed us forever.

Join us here and share your story,

six words at a time!

Six Word Fridays ~ Serve

Once upon a time, a young
family of three moved to Paris.
Before long, baby boy joined in
and their little family was complete.
Like any little family, days were
filled with bottles and diapers, toys
and bed times, giggles and tears.
Time passed. Days turned into cereal,
school, parks, homework, dinner and many
more bed times. Just like all
of the families in all of
the cities in all of the
world. Except they were in Paris.

I don't know when the little
ones realized they lived in one
of the most beautiful cities in
all of the world - to them
it was just home. Their neighborhood.
The grand adventures on the Seine
and to the top of the
Eiffel Tower only happened when visitors
came to town. If memory serves,
their first trip to the top
included a grandpa and an uncle.
There were so many smiles, so
many ooh-la-las! No fear, just fascination.
No worry, just wonder...and lots
and lots and lots of questions.
They saw many of the monuments
and museums they would later explore...
from high above and far away.

Then they went home to play.
Back to the swings and sand
boxes of the little neighborhood parks.
As kids are, they were happy
for the adventure, but unaware of
the significance of what they'd seen.
But I knew....knew it would
always be a part of them.
For it was against the spectacular
backdrop of this great city that
my two littles grew and learned
how to live happily ever after.

Join us here and share your story,

six words at a time!

Six Word Fridays ~ Face

Playing tourist ~ Jardin de Luxembourg ~ Paris

Let's face it ~ time does fly!

In the twenty seven years since

this photo, there have been many

pounds lost, gained....and lost again.

There's less hair, many more wrinkles

and hints of the wisdom that

comes as we age. And grow.

Only Paris remains the same ~ her

timeless beauty seemingly untouched by the

passing years. Ah, ma chere Paris ~

comme tu me manques. Toujours. Beaucoup.

Please join in the Friday fun!

Caption a photo, share a poem

or tell a story. Just remember,

only six words in each line!

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

Jardin des Plantes ~ Part Two

"If you had something to say

You'd write it on a piece of paper

Then you'd put a stamp on it

And they'd get it three days later...

...it all just seemed so good the way we had it

Back before everything came automatic."

Miranda Lambert

Long before skype, texts, face-time or instagram, there were two grandchildren who lived thousands of miles from their grandparents. An ocean separated us from one set of grandparents. An ocean and the entire continental US separated us from the other set. We made a trip back to the states almost every summer. And were blessed by many visits from our far away families.

Back in the day, I'd take pictures of the kids, get them developed in duplicate or triplicate, write a card or letter, walk to the post office and send the "grandkids" back over the ocean to their grandparents. The postcard above would have included a message that went something like this:

Dear Mom,

Thanks for a lovely visit! I enjoyed seeing you and Melissa dancing around the gardens in front of the beautiful natural history museum. Pretty tough to live down the street from such beauty ~ wink, wink! More photos of our adventures to follow shortly... 

                                      Love and miss you, A

This treasure, a sweet picture of my little lady snacking in the same lovely garden might have been sent with a note like this:

Hi Grandma!
Thanks for my pretty purple coat! It's very cuddly and keeping me warm. The sun has been shining a lot so we go to the park every day. Say hi to grandpa.
               Love,
{and then there would be a scribble from Melissa herself}


















I wouldn't mind a return to those days. Days of taking our time with a few photographs. Hours of collecting our thoughts, writing of our tales and adventures and drawing pictures to be sent off. Oh, I'm not ready to give up on Instagram, but I think it's high time I took to the post...and sent more wishes and words off the old-fashioned way. Like I did back in the day before it all became automatic.

Joining Kathy for

Song-ography

 

Jardin des Plantes ~ Part One

When my children were very little, we had a special park down the street from our apartment. It was in this place that both of my babies first took a ride down the sliding board. They spent hours digging in the sand...filling buckets, burying trucks and building castles. It was here that my son pulled himself up to stand on his own two little feet for the first time. As these photos carry me back to this place, I'm struck by a few thoughts.

This little playground was located in Paris, along the edge of the Jardin des Plantes. The very grand Natural History Museum is located at one end of this exquisite botanical garden, not far from our little sand box. The museum is home to many natural wonders, including some gigantic dinosaur skeletons. It's no wonder, in the neighboring playground, that to climb up to the slide, you had to scale the tale of a dinosaur! And the descending slides were built right down the front of his spine.

The creativity of this design always pleased and impressed me. We called this place "the dinosaur park" and strolled over to play there so often. As I look at the faces of my kids in these photos, I realize that they could have been anywhere.... They had no ability to put their experience here into any larger context. They didn't know that we were living in one of the most exciting cities in the world. No sense of the history...or that mom and dad were foreigners. {that would come later!} They certainly had no sense that the dinosaur they climbed on all the time was of any significance...creative, educational or otherwise.

As I look back, I think what mattered to them is that we played. That we went out, explored, had adventures and got dirty. For long stretches of uninterrupted, unscheduled time. These moments pre-dated cell phones. Every once in a while I brought a camera with me. More often than not, I brought a friend. There was fresh air, and conversation...I think these days this is called a "play date".... Back in the day, I think the moms were playing as much as the kids! Funny how, as parents, we strive to provide so much. We work to educate, elevate and equip our children....as well we should. I wonder, though, how often that turns into an over-saturation. An over scheduling and an over abundance of stuff in their lives.

Though we lived in this most elegant {and expensive} city, we learned to make do with very little. I love looking at my two here, playing with a friend and sharing one bucket, one ball and one shovel between them. The clothes are mostly hand-me-downs, the shoes are grand parent provided. I'm so grateful that I learned to parent far away from my "natural habitat." Had we been in suburban America, I don't know if I would have learned to be content with so little. But here we were in this dazzling city...so for me, the mom, we already had so much more than I could have ever imagined! I was profoundly satisfied, content, eager to explore and ready to learn new things. I was enthralled by the history all around us, both natural and cultivated...and tickled to death that we had a dinosaur park to play in! I realize, looking back, that we were their context. Their father and I were their "bigger picture" .... the surroundings mattered little to them.

I'd like to think that I would have found that same spirit had I been back "home" in America. But I think I needed to be pulled out of all that was known and comfortable to me, and learn this parenting thing in an environment that both thrilled and challenged me. Of all the lessons I learned as a mom, the one that came back around over and over again was this: children learn from who we are, not from who we want to be. When the heart, mind and soul of the parent is content, yet challenged... educated, yet eager to learn... present, yet pursuing deeper insight... This is the heart, mind and soul that will develop in the child. Doesn't matter where you live. Or what you have. Or how often everything turns out perfectly. For better, or worse, they really do soak up the essence of who we are.

I often say that I was an accidental mother. Not that I got pregnant by accident. But that this motherhood thing was never something that I purposed as a young woman. There is nothing, however, that has taught me more or filled me more completely than taking on this role. And as I dig out these old photos, I'm profoundly grateful for the context...for the journey my husband and I shared with these two...on good days and bad, both here and abroad.

"Look, Mom! He's standing!"

July, 1990

Joining Tamar for some

Good. Random. Fun.

{Parisian Style}

Six Word Fridays ~ Limit

Seems there's no limit to the

treasures in the Parisian photo vault!

Here's my little seven year old,

always the Nike wearer, on the

banks of the Seine. He may

not live in Paris these days,

but you'll never catch him without

a Nike shoe or a wristwatch!

Please join in the Friday fun!

Caption a photo, share a poem

or tell a story. Just remember,

only six words in each line!

Linking up {late} with KIM for

Little Things Thursday

Black & White Wednesday ~ Les Cafes

Sugar & Spice

Paris, 1997

Ooh-la-la. Les cafes.
I'm often asked what I miss the most about living in Paris. I don't know if there's just one answer to that question....but I do know that one of the answers could be, "All the cafes, of course!"

There were some special places in our neighborhood where we were known. Where my kids got years of special treats. Places where I sat for hours with a Grand Creme, my crossword puzzle and my journal and watched the people pass by. I remember long talks with dear friends. And countless "dates" with one or both of my children.

There's hardly a street or a corner in Paris without a little cafe, so no matter what area you're exploring, you can take a moment to rest and enjoy a drink, a meal or a dessert. The best cafe moments come under sunny skies, on a clear, cool afternoon....or late on a summer evening as the light slowly fades from the sky.

Sigh.

I'll be back, Paris. Someday, I will be back.

Please join us and share a 

Black & White photo!

I'm also linking up to

Wednesdays Around the World

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

Six Word Fridays ~ Misty

Oh, memories. Those misty, water colored 
memories of the way you were.

{Someone might be missing her kids...
just a wee little tiny bit}

Six Word Friday {Captive}

The shutter clicked open and I

yanked you through before it closed.

Yes! I had you...right where

I wanted you. Your image forever

my captive. Mine to set out

or tuck away. Mine to cherish.

Your turn! 

Please join in the fun!

Fervor

“I FOUND  IT!” he yelled.

His little hand slipped over the edge of the sidewalk and down between the automobile’s tire and the curb. I stopped walking, not believing it possible.  But he turned around, looked up at me with huge eyes and a ‘told you so’ smile and showed me the little piece of plastic. Sure enough, he had retrieved the tiny toy. He had others – not just others kind of like it – but plenty of other little three quarter inch pieces that were exactly the same. In my mind it was a ridiculously insignificant nuisance of a play thing. To him, an important treasure.

You see, five days earlier, as we walked our daily route between his kindergarten and his sister’s elementary school, one of his Power Rangers lost a gun.  Now, each Power Ranger came equipped with several guns. And these “guns” didn’t actually do anything. They were just cheap little pieces of molded white plastic. But, bless this boy’s heart, one of these guns had gone missing and he was not going to stop searching until he found it.



Let me set the scene. We lived in Paris at the time. Not at the foot of the Eiffel Tower, or next to the Louvre. No, ours was just a typical neighborhood ~ shops on the ground floor, apartments above. So the route between the two schools brought us past a florist, a book store, a hairdresser...down sidewalks and in between parked cars. Sometimes we walked back and forth to school four times a day. And since the loss of the precious weapon, those trips had grown unbearably slow.

Because he was determined. One might say, obsessed. His sister probably did say obsessed. I can still hear myself telling him to let it go. That it was so silly to worry about such a little, unimportant play thing. That it was impossible to find it, given the number of cars that would have driven in and out of each spot. And given that in Paris they clean the streets, sidewalks and gutters so regularly. There was just no way. I was as sure of the impossibility as he was sure of the possibility.

It just burned inside of him. You’d think that after twenty-four hours a five year old would have forgotten all about it. But not him. Never. His intensity to get a result ran deep. Sometimes it was just a child’s longing to have something his way. But, often, it translated into an arduous desire to figure things out. To win. To learn. To complete a mission. To find things!  And not because someone asked him to or expected it of him…but because he felt it. Or wanted it. And believed he could make it be so.

This piece of my son fascinates me. I was forty years or so past five years old when I began to know and to trust my own gut, my own heart like he does. It’s not in my nature to approach things passionately or spontaneously….or just because I want to. No, I weigh and I measure. I look around, acutely aware of the reactions and the expectations of others. And I hesitate, becoming unsure of myself. Even in this moment I wonder what I should say next...or if I should be writing at all!

Sigh.

I'd really like to wake up one day with the fervent spirit of that sidewalk-scanning-not-gonna-sleep-until-I-find-it little boy. But since that’s probably not going to happen any time soon, I’ll just watch his face as he watches a soccer ball. And follow his lead as I learn to listen to my own voice a little more each day.

                                                          This piece was written for a Bigger Picture Blogs Writing Circle.

Head over HERE learn more about these wonderful groups!

And linking up at:

Please join me on Friday for Six Word Fridays. We're linking up right here on my blog and this week's word is CAPTIVE. {click on the tab at the top for details!}

Souvenirs, Souvenirs....

Hanging out in Harvard Square and touring the campus

always includes a photo with John Harvard himself.

We had to wait in line to get this shot!

Saturday we were blessed by a visit from some old friends.

We knew them in Paris.

Met them when they were college students,

and moved before they'd had any of their kids!

We were blessed with several hours of walking, talking and

playing on the grass.

Did my heart so much good to connect to that time in my life.

I miss Paris, and the people we knew there.

But I don't let myself think about it much....

So it was good to remember!

And to spend time with old friends

who are happy and thriving and

surrounded by adorable kids!

favorite place

seen far away sights
lived in the city of lights
seen the liberty bell
walked the freedom trail
seen mexican seas
sat near juniper trees

know one thing for sure
it's the who, not the where

cause distant shore
or behind the front door
my favorite spot's
with my family of four