The words just kept on flowing out.
I was excited to be making the cross over with a blog acquaintance and her friend from the virtual world to reality, especially as it had popped out of the big blue. A little shy too because I am sometimes. And so the words kept coming out in an overflow, covering and revealing.
As grateful as I am for all of my contacts with the online community, I miss the simple joy of delighting in girlfriend time, especially with such a lovely and engaging duo. The expat community in Arles is tiny dots and so it is extremely rare that I sip San Pellegrino with women who speak the same language, have the same cultural references and laugh at the same second with an acknowledgement of a certain play on words. Face to face, seeing flickers of expression, I realize that many French women that I know keep a far more steely control and that the exchange is based more on dialogues than volleys.
This difference brewed like a wealth of communication in comparison on this particular rainy afternoon. A casual reassurance rested somewhere next to the straw on the table between us by just being present.
A bit like sunset up on the roof that spills the brim of its cup. And so were my words, pulling a string of scarves out of a silk top hat, to chase from red to pink to gold. Stories to tell and be heard. For once I will try not to worry if it was too much.
I woke up wondering. I remember that I am lucky but also that I feel what I know. A sugar sort of bittersweet overflow.
I have to say, Loree, that I make my husband do the same thing for the same reason, and vice versa. I grew up in a city in the Pacific Northwest and went to college in California, while he grew up in a very small town in the upper Midwest and went to college in a slightly larger town there. And he is 3 1/3 years younger than I am. So, even though he has lived in the Pacific Northwest, and we have been married, for several decades, we still notice, and to understand each other must leap over, the effects of the differences in the frames of reference and experiences we each had until about age 22. And those effects enrich our every day! Leslie in Portland
I remember feeling that way when I was an exchange student in French-speaking Switzerland, at ages 16-17 and 20-21. It didn't have to be Americans (there were very few where I was studying), just people who spoke English easily. Although we were supposed to speak French at all times, I could not resist, every once in a while, breaking into English with those people. To be, and convey, myself more fully (and, to be honest, more easily). I always wondered how long it would take before I could feel and be that way in French. My goal/dream is to advance my French to the point where I could have the joys of two languages at my disposal while living among native French speakers who are conversational in English. Isn't language amazing? Leslie in Portland, Oregon
Dear Heather, Spending time with you in Arles, I felt like we'd known each other for ages! Thank you so much for your generosity and time. Even though I'm not a permanent expat, I also sometimes feel the lack of kindred spirits in my life and I was so delighted to find one in you — one of the highlights of my trip. See you soon, I hope! xoxo
Again, you have given us a magical moment…and made me realize how important a one to one is with a friend. Yesterday I needed some help in preparing some large packages ( with drawings) to be made. I called my cousin, and while she lives across the city, and has to take two buses to come to me…she did.And oh, the joy of working together. And the wonderful time spent ( after the packages had been made) of just siting about and chatting. We then went to my computer and spent hours looking at family pics and mutual times we had spent together…..our 0ne 0n One was a treasured time for us both….all too often missed because of distance and busy 'other' lives.
Your words are a wonderful reminder of the need to cherish and re-visit our girl/woman friends and the joy we have in the times we spend with each other.
Hmmm…but there is also honey and cucumber sorbet and beet!
Nothing beats talk/joke/banter with loved ones. Nothing!!!
Love you, Sister. 🙂
Such a good point, Jackie. What odd times we live in…
I can't believe that I never knew of Cheryl Wheeler until you first sent me a link to her singing. Why is that so? She is so incredibly brilliant, grounded and a heart-catcher. Thank you again, Dr. David.
Merci for the lovely compliment, Victoria!
See? That is where we differ. Even after all of this time, my home is still very much the States. Or wherever my honey is.