To be young, to be in love, and to be in Paris.
He once asked me, “When you were a little girl, did you ever think that you would be strolling down the Champs-Elysees?”
With a huge smile of wonder and amazement, I shook my head and answered, “Not really”.
Today, years later, I stroll the Champs-Elysees, alone with memories of the man who gave me Paris.
It is a beautiful day and I am happy to be here.
“If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.” Ernest Hemingway to a friend, 1950. Continue reading “A Moveable Feast”
Did your Mom ever scold you about leaving things to the last minute? Mine did, but the lesson never stuck.
I remember a childhood story about a boy who always waited until Sunday night to do his homework. Imagine the upset when his friends decided to go to the movies one Sunday night and he couldn’t join them because his homework assignments were waiting for him in his backpack.
That’s how I feel about my upcoming trip to France. Did I say France? Oui! Continue reading “Paris? Oui!”
On some Friday nights, I make my way to Temple Beth Israel in Portland for Shabbat services. I fight the traffic and my end of the week tiredness to participate in a service in a language that I do not understand with people whom I do not know. Continue reading “Mi Shebeirach”
I hope you don’t mind reading a tear-stained post.
I am crying right now…not sniffling, but crying, need to blow your nose crying.
Please take the time to read these poignant stories posted by a friend who is a cancer survivor.
I have a couple of stories to share this morning and I truly, truly hope that you will take a couple of moments to read them because they are important to you. You may even know some of the people involved.
In a recent blog post regarding my project to write a book chronicling my cancer journey I said, “I believe that if you’re given a song, you should sing it. If you’re given a story, you should tell it. And, if you’re given a voice, you should use it. I’ll leave the singing to my talented husband, but I do have a story to tell and a voice with which to tell it.”
I realized in the last few days that mine is not the only story that needs to be told. So, while I will continue working on that, in the hope that it will one day be helpful…
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After a leisurely lunch at Tucci’s in Lake Oswego, I noticed this plaque on the counter. I just had to take a picture. It says so many important things especially now in light of the Paris attacks. Continue reading “This is your Life…”
I love the simple and yet complex message in this little plaque. It inspires me to think about my many blessings even in the midst of sadness. I am not the only person who has lost loved ones. I am not the only one who is lonely. I am not the only one whistling in the dark at times. I am just one person who can try to brighten my day by helping others. When I was in graduate school learning about different therapeutic approaches, I recall our professor stating that there will always be people hurting. It is so true in so many ways from children to seniors. So, there is always something I can do or say to be of help in a quiet, non-obtrusive way if that is the right thing for that person. Sometimes just sitting with a person is all that can be done. I recall sitting with a young father whose toddler was dying. There was nothing I could say but I could stay with him and that is what I did.
So even in the midst of a world where things go horribly wrong and no safe harbor appears on the horizon, I must remain thankful and optimistic. Thankful for my brains and fortitude. Thankful for those around me who care about others and living a decent life. Thankful that I can rise everyday and live in freedom and relative safety in an imperfect world.
