So we just returned home from Paris. Jim had asked me if I wanted to go take a holiday there. “Let’s go,” I said.
Travel is healing and Paris is a dream.
When I ask myself who is the person in my life that has meant the most to me;
I often find that you are the one gave me the most; the one who did not judge; you were not the one to give random advice, or a solution; no simple cures.
Instead you shared in the pain and touched my wounds with a warm and tender hand.
You were silent in moments of despair and confusion.
You stayed with me in my hours of grief and bereavement.
You were a healing of the soul faced in the reality of hope while I was powerless.
I think Paris is about that possibility of having a dream that comes true; that’s what makes life more interesting.
And I think life is more interesting because you are in it;
I love that.