Sunday, March 26, 2017

the last time I saw Paris..





Where else can you spend 86 dollars on two truffle omelets and juice? And I actually read the sign in the window telling the price in French, did the math and still ate there anyway. Delicious.

Paris is the city of poets, painters and kisses galore.The buildings are low, pace is slow  and everyone you see looks relaxed.This is not the New York of tall skyscrapers and business; Paris is love, museums, cafes, bridges, a clean river. We stayed in a small room where the bed touched both walls that year in September. Hemingway's ghost kept drifting along the avenues we trod.

Some memories linger: the moments of prayer in Notre Dame where despite the din of Japanese tourists, I felt God's presence as I gazed up toward the rose colored window.The trip to Giverny, Monet's home.The lovely pink stucco walls and green shutters of that house made me so happy.The ponds, the tired fall gardens, an enchanted place.We went to Versailles where those same tourists inside the palace made me hastily head for the gardens where I sat on a stone bench under a sweet willow and read the psalms.Nearby a young artist in a blue blouse and khaki skirt with hair twirled on her head, was drawing with such amazing concentration; it was a scene I will never forget.

So when we were deciding where to go for our anniversary, Paris beckoned.  Reservations were made for a small studio apartment in a courtyard with potted trees.The pictures looked lovely.I couldn't wait to write at the little wrought iron table in that small enclosed space; me and Hemingway's ghost. But Paris is no longer the City of Light but one of riots, fires and attacks on women.I have cancelled my dream.

So many places I wanted to see; Louveciennes, to gaze down the alley where Sisley painted that lonely figure in the snow, the Louvre, Sacre Coeur. Instead, we are heading for the wide open skies of Montana, New Mexico and perhaps some of the Lewis and Clark Trail.I am now getting excited about this and a coincidence happened that leads me to believe what we are doing is the right path. I had mentioned to John that I wanted to go to Chimayo in New Mexico, a place with a small chapel and sacred healing sand that has mystical properties, it is said. An hour later, someone on the prayer group that I joined wrote about praying and lighting a candle at that very place the day before. Her prayers were for each one of us on that Rosary group site.How wonderful, how affirming.

....Adieu, dear Paris, the last time I saw you , your  heart was warm and gay.No matter how they change you,, I'll remember you that way.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Paris will always be the city of lights. The evil will never change that. Charlie Hebdo still works. The Eiffel tower still stands, the Louvre still shows off, like only the Louvre can. I cannot wait to go...

Sharon Graham said...

anon,who might you be?

Missy said...

I'm glad you've found another trip your are excited about. Sounds like that was meant to be!

Anonymous said...

I'm your huckleberry...

Google it...i'm certain the search results will reveal anon. If not, the mystery lives.

Sharon Graham said...

Dear Huckleberry......kind of you to drop in..must you remain an anonymous huckleberry friend?I may have more than one.

scribeforlove said...

The last time I was in Paris, I was in my thirties. Your eloquent tour of Paris was just as I remembered it--thank you for the memory--your scribeforlove.

roth phallyka said...

The Eiffel tower still stands, the Louvre still shows off, like only the Louvre can. I cannot wait to go...


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