Life comes rushing in so fast. I wake up dreaming of the Musee d’Orsay, Tess, the grandmother & her boys (who I have not had a chance to write about), Blue Dancers. I want to return to Paris. There is so much left undone. No regrets except maybe that I did not ride the carrousel ☺. Still, I know I will return.
I have been dreaming in French. Soon the trip will start to fade. Not so quickly for me, but it will certainly fade for others. Their lives are not changed by me. I think of Ally and the lives she touched. The life she lived. Yesterday was a day filled with memories of her just as today will be and probably—hopefully—tomorrow.
I miss Paris. I did not have to worry about so much there. I could wake up and let the wind blow me where it would. Now I am here. My dear husband sleeps next to me. The dog wants attention. My daughter is being a little snarly. (Is something wrong or is it just “normal” teenage angst?) My son is in treatment again. Lord, please help him. Help all of us.
I don’t want my journal to move away from Paris. I don’t want to leave there. I don’t want to jump into the seemingly million obligations that await me here. I just want to write about the Musee d’Orsay and Blue Dancers.
Alas, life slips in. How can I live today as though on the wings of Paris? How will I choose to live these moments fully? How will you?
Image Edgar Degas', "Blue Dancers"