I have a confession: I love all things French. Okay, maybe not all things. I'm not so crazy about their politics or their reputation for rudeness. But I love the culture, the language, the beauty.
Ever since I was a little girl I have felt this affinity. It was nurtured when my mom would teach me French words like "bonjour" and "fleur" or when my neighbor traveled there and brought back a poster of the Tour Eiffel.
It was even more special to me because it was personal. Having been adopted as an infant, I knew nothing about my heritage or family history. Nothing... except that my birth mother had a French last name. (Yes, I illegally knew the last name of my birth mother. How crazy is that? That I knew it. And that it was illegal.) And so I loved Frenchness all the more because it was part of me in some unknown way.
Over the years I have studied the French language and visited French-speaking countries, although I have not managed to visit France itself. (That is definitely a bucket list trip that I hope to take!) I play French music in our home, and relish the fact that my kids love to dance to it. I have not eaten much French food, though, which brings me to my point for today.
There is a coupon for a local French restaurant. Curious, I pulled up the menu online to see what exactly I might eat there. To my great disappointment, I am less than thrilled by the menu options. Apparently, based on this particular menu, the French eat lots of seafood (which I'm not too crazy about, except for shrimp) and there are the more exotic items like foie gras, which mentally I find entirely disgusting (and a large part of enjoying food is definitely mental). So I don't feel as though I can wholeheartedly embrace this French cuisine, which is a bit disappointing. However, there is chicken! And I do like chicken, so perhaps we shall go see what the French can do with le poulet. Wish me bon appetit! A bientot!
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Friday, June 8, 2012
Driving to Goodbye
Today I drove to Goodbye. The best friends of my two older kids are moving away tomorrow. We drove over to their house to bid our final farewells, and it was just not good. There are easy goodbyes and hard goodbyes, and this was definitely a hard goodbye.
It made me wonder what's really the best way to deal with Goodbye. Is it better to keep it casual, letting it simply slip away like another day? Or to face it head on, driving right up to it, and engaging it? When it's important, like today's goodbye, I lean toward making sure everyone feels like they had sufficient goodbyeing time complete with hugs, well wishes, and hopes of meeting again.
But it sure is messy that way. Is it just too hard? Or is there just no good way around it? At least the direct approach minimizes the risk of things left unsaid. I hate the regret of things never spoken and hugs not given. And so I drove to Goodbye.
As we drove home from our friends' house, my children sat in tears asking why. They had said their goodbyes, but their hearts had not reconciled it yet.
Later my daughter asked if we could go to the pool this evening so she could just forget. It seems to me a certain amount of forgetting is a good thing. It helps take the edge off Goodbye anyway. So we headed to the pool, and laughed and splashed and played like it was any other day.
It made me wonder what's really the best way to deal with Goodbye. Is it better to keep it casual, letting it simply slip away like another day? Or to face it head on, driving right up to it, and engaging it? When it's important, like today's goodbye, I lean toward making sure everyone feels like they had sufficient goodbyeing time complete with hugs, well wishes, and hopes of meeting again.
But it sure is messy that way. Is it just too hard? Or is there just no good way around it? At least the direct approach minimizes the risk of things left unsaid. I hate the regret of things never spoken and hugs not given. And so I drove to Goodbye.
As we drove home from our friends' house, my children sat in tears asking why. They had said their goodbyes, but their hearts had not reconciled it yet.
Later my daughter asked if we could go to the pool this evening so she could just forget. It seems to me a certain amount of forgetting is a good thing. It helps take the edge off Goodbye anyway. So we headed to the pool, and laughed and splashed and played like it was any other day.
Monday, June 4, 2012
The Gift of Inconvenience
Tonight I receive a gift. My evening plans have been thwarted so that the work I would normally do cannot be done. I work remotely from home, but today there is a new server in town and I cannot log on yet. The urgent has been silenced by the inconvenient.
Perhaps I should be annoyed as my work papers sit untouched in their pile. No progress being made. Falling further behind. But the work will wait for me without ceasing, loyal as my trusty dog.
Instead I find in the inconvenience an opportunity and the anticipation of possibilities. Sometimes inconvenience is a gift of redirection... a chance to step back, take a look around, and see more clearly. A time to do something different, unplanned, unexpected. A little space for reading a good book, relaxing with my soulmate, planning summer adventures. Or maybe even... doing absolutely nothing.
Perhaps I should be annoyed as my work papers sit untouched in their pile. No progress being made. Falling further behind. But the work will wait for me without ceasing, loyal as my trusty dog.
Instead I find in the inconvenience an opportunity and the anticipation of possibilities. Sometimes inconvenience is a gift of redirection... a chance to step back, take a look around, and see more clearly. A time to do something different, unplanned, unexpected. A little space for reading a good book, relaxing with my soulmate, planning summer adventures. Or maybe even... doing absolutely nothing.
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