It is Sunday morning. Remi has gone to the train station to pick up a friend from Paris who is in desperate need of sun. At my suggestion, he took Ben with him. Before the heat sets in, our dog will enjoy the ride and make fellow drivers smile from his post at the back of the car. I had a few small but crucial items to buy–coffee, toothpaste–the things that glue our going together. I turned without thinking down the alleyway that curves sinuously to the shops, a route I now take to avoid passing in front of the door of a friend that is no longer a friend, my feet padding along the cracked pavement in my espadrilles like the paws of a dog. And that is when I realize that is precisely the sound that is missing. It is odd to not have Ben near me, trotting along, looking up at me with an expectant grin, just as it was unusual to move through the apartment, straightening up, grabbing my keys, without the pull of Remi, the knowledge of him working in the other room, fed by so many pricks of the senses. The sound of a sneeze, fingers clicking on keys. Such is the life that we have chosen together that I am rarely alone. Everyday, around the clock, so close as to be enmeshed. As it is with Ben too, who is always present because we are always present. He stares at me for no reason, reeling in my attention. This is how I found my myself waking while walking, oddly conscious of the boundary of me moving forward on my own. Quiet so that I can hear my pulse and feel the air parting around my torso as if walking through waves or breathing out a bubble. Suspended for an hour or so. I can hear Remi’s keys in the lock of the front door below. I turn my chin reflexively, in anticipation that the bubble will pop.
You are such a catch! I will have to think about the matchmaking idea!!!! A beauty inside and out, I know that you will meet someone when the time is right. And if someone doesn't love Miss Belle well then they are not the one!
Heather I loved reading your thoughts and the senses that you felt (and feel ) during times alone.
Growing up in a huge family (the eldest of eight children; now widowed, I do love my own time and space. I know that marriage will be in the future; though with an understanding man who accepts my special Miss Belle. Of course he will have his space and we will put each other first!
(Open to matchmaking0
xoxo
Karena
Art by Karena
2012 Artist Series
First off, let me compliment you on your fine choice of moniker–I think "pokie" is one of the best I have heard, I love that! And yes, perfectly said. It can be all too easy to get caught up in the noise of busy to hear any sort of inner voice or direction. I think your situation is interesting–you get the best of both worlds in a sense…
Thanks Carolyn–aren't we all funny that way? 🙂
I was touched by both of these stories David. And yes, I have met friends because of Ben too. I think that how people behave towards him and his reaction often says quite a lot. More than all of the "how do you do's" in the world. Especially in France where folks tend to either be on one extreme of a slightly uncomfortable inducing "Oh my precious darling baby" or "this old thing?"…
And so how wonderful that your puppers bring happiness. Just simple happiness. Sending some good energy to your postman and his wife. My goodness do we need to not take our health for granted. Or our loves. I don't think that either of us do.
Hope that you have a good day and that the tomato coulis was a success…
xo,
H
Thank you Loree! I hope that you are having a better day today!
Bisous,
H
Actually, there are several folks (whom I like a lot) whom I wouldn't know at all EXCEPT for the dogs. They're, finally, much more social and convivial than I am. One of my neighbors (a very charming and pretty, divorced empty-nester in her fifties, who's now living alone in one of the really big, old mansions) has taken up the habit of coming over every day (her large, formal gardens back onto this old house's enterprisingly INformal gardens) or so to "see her boys". The dogs adore her, of course (the female doesn't seem mind being mistaken for a "boy"). She brings them biscuits and talks fondly about her dog (a lab, I gather) which died a couple of years ago when the last of her sons went off to college. She'd get another dog, if she didn't travel so much. She's needlessly apologized for coming over so regularly; I've told her I enjoyed her visits and would, in fact, LEND her one of the dogs if she liked (my mother regularly did that with one or more of her sons when we were growing up).
Similarly?….I love my mailman. He's a very sweet, latter middle-aged man who makes over the dogs and also brings them biscuits everyday (good thing they like biscuits). He was surprisingly and suddenly candid the other day….both of his dogs have died in the past two years, his wife has cancer, and he doesn't think he has the time to care for a new dog.
In any case, I have two new friends solely because of the dogs, which is a pleasant thing to consider.
Sincerely,
david Terry
Lovely blog,
I find it enjoyable to be alone, although I miss my husband when he is away, which is about 12 days a month. If one can't be content with oneself, and enjoy our own company, how can we truly be ourselves and happy with others. Alone time forces one to look around and see who we really are.
Sometimes I complain so loudly to my family that I never have any alone time….and then when I do…I miss them so very much! This was a beautiful, beautiful post! Thanks for sharing it!
Your words are so very beautiful that they take my breath away.