We’re wiped out, but here, in this beautiful city. It was surreal to pass the Arc de Triomphe and look down the long Champs Elysees, as we were driven to our hotel. But to turn and see this view from our window was almost too much. I can still hardly believe it.
I sent out a quick Facebook post yesterday, about the first leg of our journey. I sat next to the most interesting elderly woman, whose life I was itching to get down on paper. Seriously, it would be a best-selling biography or based-on-real-life novel. We spoke of her background of intrigue, Wall Street and her house next door to Brad Pitt in the Hollywood Hills. She teared up telling me of her two children, lost at different ages from two different conditions, and her husband more recently. And, of course, we talked about Kevin and me, this trip and the reason we’re taking it.
She said, “Thirty years is a long time. You look happy.”
“I am happy,” I replied.
She continued, “I think marriages last because of promises kept, even when you don’t feel like keeping them. Oh, and it helps to like the person and be nice as much as you can. That’s hard sometimes.”
I smiled and said, “I couldn’t agree more. But sometimes it’s really not that hard.” Then I grabbed Kevin’s hand as he slept, and she reached over and patted my leg.
The conversation then turned to a shared love of travel and how we both dealt with our wanderlust. It was at this point that we were landing and she said, “Feed your wanderlust, honey, but don’t wander too far from home. Really, you just make sure you bring home with you.” Then she reached up and gave her heart a little pat.
There was a European man sitting directly in front of us, who apparently heard the whole conversation. When we deplaned, he stopped Kevin and me and, very seriously, said “Paris is wonderful any time, but never so much as when you’re in love. Enjoy your time there.”
It was like beautiful blessings were spoken over us, as we set off for this magical place.
And so, now we are here. My man and I set out to wander the streets of Paris as people in love…me, holding his hand in a foreign land, and feeling right at home at the same time.
“My beloved is mine and I am his…” Song of Solomon 2:16 NIV