Paris: Tears along Rue St. Germain des Pres, Finding happiness again
What I can’t change
I had a moment of sadness that hit me in the stomach as I was walked along Rue St. Germain des Pres. I exited a “Supermarche” to find some decent socks, and I noticed an older homeless woman sitting in front of the store with her dog and a sign asking for money. I ignored her and continued to shop. I entered another expensive boutique selling hand made quilts and sheets. The proprietor was playing that really sad yet cheesy Enya music, and somehow it had managed to get under my skin. I started to cry and exited the store.
Here I was in this beautiful clean city, thousands of miles away from home and the past. I was enjoying myself on a real holiday. I was happy, and all I could do at that moment was think about how awful it was that it couldn’t have been different between my mother and myself. That her illness had tore us apart and that because of it, a relationship was impossible. It was not like either one of us had a choice in the matter. The nature of her illness makes me feel like I’m in danger. Once I tried to be both the hero and the better person, and instead found myself in over my head with her problems.
How could I ever explain this to a potential partner? Especially if I find one from happy and ‚”normal” family. I have always felt as if I’d be judged and dumped. It’s happened to friends of mine. Sometimes having to explain the situation to someone is worse than dealing with the situation on your own.
What I needed was a serious distraction. Something that would move my thoughts from this sad loop back into the present, where life was full of new adventures and possibility. I wandered into a music store and listened to various contemporary french artists, a couple who sounded somewhat like the beatles. Finally the overwhelming sadness released itself. Somehow I had to find a way to fight back at this ideal that true love or happiness was not in the cards for me. Yes, I’ve been on the periphery looking in for quite some time. But this trip was not about the past. It was the hope that there was real life ready for me to take it.
That is why I like the Latin Quarter. It is filled with students that are so alive, focused and free. I stopped in for lunch at the Tabac de Sorbonne for a quick lunch. It was crowded. I sat down on the covered patio and ordered a grill cheese sandwich. The sandwich arrived. It was not so much a sandwich but two slices of melted cheese with a piece of bread between them. Ass backwards in comparison to American grilled cheese, but very tasty.
See the link below for a recipe:
http://msglaze.typepad.com/paris/recipes_meat/index.html
At the table next to mine, two students sat together doing their math homework. One was a tall, bookish man with a pointy nose and tiny specks. He was dressed as if he were on his way to a job interview. His gaze always fixated on the other one. Across the table his study partner was a striking dark haired girl with straight glossy hair and who wore complementary winter white sweater. The sweater reminded me of one that my grandma had bought for me for my sixteenth birthday. It was classy and warm.
It was then that I remembered that my grandma’s yahrzeit was around the corner on the 14th. She had been dead for fourteen years, but she was always with me. I wore her necklace when I went to the Louvre, and I purchased a keychain, similar to the one she bought during her vacation to paris thirty years ago. She was the one who never left.
It was over a decade ago when she came into one of my dreams and told me that there were two tickets waiting for me. One going to Japan where I was born, and the other going to Paris. And that I would have the opportunity to go when I was ready. At the time I was just trying to get my foot hold into the world without her. It seemed like at the time that life had no magic and all possibilities were dictated to me and were not my own. I made this trip happen, and by doing so, I fulfilled a promise.
Someday, I hope I can find a nice looking boy who looks at me like this one looks at her.
****
I found the famous St Sulpice church–that is also referred to in the Di Vinci Code. However I could not find the rose line that leads to one of the major clues in the book. Enjoyed shopping nearby, a good mix of high end and accessible stores.
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