Hopelessly in Love

Ah, yes. Paris in the spring. I do not know of any other place in the world that has higher romantic standards, especially in the month of April. Everything is wildly blooming and the blue of a fresh new sky creates an incredible backdrop for the Eiffel Tower. I spent a week in Paris visiting a dear Smith friend. Smith was our only common ground, and without it, we hadn’t connected for quite some time. Paris was spectacularly beautiful, to be sure, but I didn’t fall in love with any Paris; I fell in love with my dear friend Leena’s Paris.

Leena has been living in Paris for the year, and it was such a gift to see her in her Parisian atmosphere. She met me at the Metro stop near her apartment and we didn’t stop smiling until I left a week later. Her wonderful French family invited me to stay with them in their very classic French apartment. They spoke some English, but better Spanish. With this trilingual crowd, I felt like a slacker in my quasi-bilingual-ness. Leena, her French host father, Francois, and I chatted away in Spanish about his trip thirty years ago to Sevilla and sunny Spain.

Listening to Leena speak in French may be one of the most beautiful sounds I’ve heard. I remember her taking her first French class at the beginning of college. Now, three years later, she speaks beautifully- almost without an accent! On the first day as her dad, Francois, Leena, and I sat in the living room, I was so proud of her that this Parisian journey she had so successfully completed. I think the pride welling up in chest may be a hint of what my parents experienced when they visited me. It is exhilarating to watch those you love dream, fly, and soar.

Enough gushing.

Leena has found many loves of her own in Paris, but the most cherished one may be a direction for her future: food. This soon to be award-winning critic showed me Paris from the culinary point of view. From fine foie gras (do you know what that really is?) to asparagus, Julia Childs, our fellow Smithie, would have been very proud indeed. The beauty of visiting someone in his or her city can only be surpassed by visiting an aspiring food critic in her city of Paris.

I was graciously invited to attend the Leena’s host mother’s birthday party- a chartered and catered boat along the River Seine. It was an absolutely fantastic way to see Paris. Seeing Paris from the river was so fun, but watching the Parisians immensely enjoy the ride and views was even more fun. It was as if we were all seeing the city for the first time as we stood in the sun and watched the entire city pass by. The exclamations and expression revealed the delight of seeing Paris from a fresh view.

I managed, of course, to accomplish much of the tourist sights. I will never forget the moment I glimpsed the Mona Lisa at the Louvre. It is not an especially grand painting and rather small in size. It has never held extreme personal value for me, but seeing it- oh, it took my breath away. What was that emotion welling up inside me? And then I understood…those ifs that became whens have now become reality. These things I’ve looked at, studied, and thought of that were so far off are now here in my present, happening and occurring. I’m seeing things I always dreamed of and experiencing things that always were far off. It is almost more than my heart and head can hold!

Leena and I, after lounging in a quiet park one afternoon, spontaneously dropped in to a Bach concert in Saints Chappell. Decorated in stained glass on all sides, this chapel looks as fragile as lace. As the sun set and the colors of the glass deepened, the full, rich, melancholy sound of Bach on the cello created a magical moment.

During one of my days, I met up with some other friends who were also traveling in France. All five of us piled into a rental car for a trip to Giverny and Normandy. Giverny has been a dream of mine since I was a little girl, falling love with paintings of a Japanese bridge and water lilies. To see Monet’s home and garden- and in full, spectacular bloom! More dreams and far off things becoming reality.

After Giverny, we continued Normandy. Normandy is known to the French as often being overcast; the clouds set the scene for a visit to D-Day’s famous Omaha Beach. There is a beautiful cemetery filled with crosses in perfect rows. I think of the poem my fifth grade teacher had me memorize: “In Flanders Fields the poppies blow, between the crosses row on row That mark the place, and in the sky the birds still singing fly…” Obviously, I wasn’t in Belgium and the poem refers to another battle, but the purpose of the deaths were the same. I thought much of grandfather who was a Navy pilot in WWII. He was about my age when he went off to fight. The loss of life represented in those crosses is immense. The contrast is the abundance of life represented in the visitors and the families of those who died is glaring. Beyond the American operated cemetery and monument, D-Day’s beach remains fairly untouched. There are bunkers to explore. Charges up the hill to imagine. A cold, cloudy Channel to consider. What beauty we have in freedom.

There is much to fall in love with in this life. These pictures don’t do it all justice, but might they a little reminder of the great beauty of life that I discovered in France.

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