Sad

Yesterday Emma texted that Notre Dame was on fire.  It took a minute for me to even process what she was saying.  I googled it and then my heart was broken.

This picture wrecked me a little:

It's one of the loveliest places I've ever been.

I have such wonderful memories of being there with my girl and her best friends.  I don't have the words to explain how it felt to be in that beautiful place and to feel the centuries of prayers uttered there by faithful churchgoers.

So I'll just leave some pictures here.

Happy 4th of July

our house--dressed for festivities

At church on Sunday I was thinking about Ferris Brough.  He's a man who lived in the ward where I grew up.  He was affectionately called The Life Saver Man by all the children.  He had rolls of Life Savers in his jacket pockets and you had only to walk up to him and hold out your hand and he'd put a Life Saver in your palm.  He'd also greet you in a friendly manner and make you feel like he was the lucky one, because he got to give you a Life Saver.

Every July, he would bear his testimony.  He was a big man, synonymous with little more than good cheer and Life Savers in my young mind so I always paid attention when he'd speak in July, because he would cry.

He had served in World War II and he loved America.  He would get choked up in the telling of it.

I miss him and hearing his testimony.

So I was already feeling a little sentimental and then the closing song was "The Star Spangled Banner".  I cried.

Have you ever tried to sing/not cry during "The Star Spangled Banner"?  It's not easy.

Also, I remembered the beaches of Normandy and then I was a goner.

If I could go back and revisit just one thing in France it would be Omaha Beach and the American Cemetery in Normandy.

It was sacred ground and I felt overwhelming gratitude for the impossibly young and brave men that died there for the cause of freedom.

O thus be it ever, when free men shall stand
Between their loved homes and the war's desolation.
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the Heav'n rescued land
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation!

 

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave!

It's hard to wrap your mind around the scope of what happened there.  I appreciate the beautiful and peaceful grounds and wish I could have stayed longer.

Seeing this picture of my girl, smiling and happy and free as a bird, on the beach in Normandy means a lot to me.

Because of the sacrifices of those that went before us, our children are growing up in a world where they have opportunity.  They live in a safe and secure place.  They can say whatever crazy thought that pops in their head.  They are free.

And I'm grateful.

Rue-On

Emma has tried to teach me French pronunciation.  With little success.  My mouth doesn't seem to work.  Also, Emma is an exacting la éducateur.  Considering I taught her English, I think she should be less sassy and more forgiving of my mouth when it doesn't work.

After over and over trying to get me to say Rouen to her satisfaction, she said, "Just call it Rue On.  It's fine."  (She said it with just a teensy bit of scorn.)

Still, I'm grateful for the reprieve.  I was tired of trying.

So I can't say Rouen, but I liked the city. I sort of fell in love with this cathedral there.

It had been there already for three centuries when Joan of Arc was killed in the same city.  The age of the place staggers my mind.

I am inspired by Joan of Arc too.   

I am not afraid...I was born to do this.  

And also, this:

 

Words to live by.

In the cathedral there was a tribute to Joan:

A statue of her and her sword

In the Musée d'Orsay gift shop I bought a postcard of a painting of the cathedral, done by Monet.  I put it in a little frame.

I wanted to remember Rouen and the way I felt in that ancient cathedral and the cobblestones beneath my feet on the narrow streets.

Sunday I was dipping my toes in the vast waters of my family tree.  I traced back the Egbert line of my ancestors until I came across Maria Thorel.  In 1649, she was born in Rouen!  I didn't know I had any French relatives.  I imagine its not too much of a stretch (because I'm an American) that I'm a mix of a lot of things. (I think they're mostly Caucasian though.  The undersides of my arms are practically blue they're so white.)

Perhaps, before she left Rouen, she walked down those same narrow cobblestone streets.  Perhaps she worshiped here:

She'd probably feel the same way as Emma does about my wayward pronunciation of Rouen.

Sorry Maria.  It's OK with Emma if I just say Rue-On.  I hope that's OK with you too. 

Ma jolie fille is taking her French AP exam today.  Better her than me!

Not today Russia, not today

I've been meaning to blog about this but I keep forgetting.  Let's just say I don't quite have my faculties about me....

Anyway.

At the airport in Paris when we were flying home, Emma and I were the only ones who didn't check luggage.  We are light packers.  We were in the border police line together.  It was one of those long zig-zagging lines.

I noticed a woman dodging around people to get ahead of everyone.  I figured she must be late for a flight or something.  I didn't begrudge her cutting in front of us.

Then I noticed more and more of the same thing and they were all holding Russian passports.  A woman grasping a red Russian passport was behind us, cutting around people, getting closer to us.

"Don't let her past us," I whispered to Emma.

Emma is no shrinking violet.  She planted her feet and put her suitcase next to her and I did the same.  She was not getting past us, two sturdy American women!

Emma was on the inside track and that was the side the woman kept trying to get past us.  She was nudging against Emma and Emma, who's been the most stubborn person I've known for as long as I've known her, was not budging.

The angst and displeasure showed on the Russian lady's face but we were not moving.

I said to Emma, "I've never loved you more than I do right now."

As the woman pushed against her, Emma turned to me with a smile and whispered, "Not today Russia, not today."

I've said it before, if I was only going to get one daughter, I'm glad it was Emma!  She is the bees knees.

This is Emma braiding my hair when we were in the awful cave so I wouldn't die.  Also, I'm smiling in this picture.  I don't remember smiling in that place....

A list

1. The jet lag is real.

2. I saw a video today about the opening of the Paris temple.  It delighted me because I've been to all the places it showed.  Last week we stopped by the Paris temple (didn't go inside because the open house hasn't even happened yet).  All of the sudden our wi-fi started working.  The same wi-fi that works in every church in the U.S. works at the Paris temple too! 

3. Braeden is coming home tonight!  I am excited to see him and disappointed he needs surgery again.  And excited to see him.  (It's going to be hard when Mark is on a mission and doesn't come home a few times....)

4. The other night we were reading the scriptures together as a family.  We were in Jacob, in the Book of Mormon, and read about the "faith and great anxiety" of the people.  Adam said that sounded like me.  That sums of my experience in motherhood.  It doesn't get easier.

5. Yesterday my parents stopped by on their way home from Tabor's house.  My mom had done an Easter craft with her other grandchildren and wanted to do it with us too.  We made a family of bunnies.  Jimifer, Denzel, B-hawk, and Sinbad.

Is Sinbad named after the guy in Arabian Nights?  Is he named after the comedian?  Or is sin bad? 

6. Adam has invented a variation on Yahtzee that we are obsessed with. 

7. I like being with these guys (I mean my family, but also the bunnies).

All the things

taken from inside the Musée d'Orsay--I can spell it even though I can't say it correctly

What's a girl to do that just returned from a spectacular trip and minimally blogged while she was gone and wants to write down all the things, but really?

That's a lot of things.

I wrote in a journal while I was there because I have to write stuff down or maybe it didn't really happen.

I guess what it mostly comes down to about the trip is that I treasure the time with Emma.

I loved seeing her try out her French.  The girl who used to be too afraid to order in a restaurant, was ordering for me in a restaurant.  In French.

I loved hearing Emma with her friends.  They are wickedly funny and clever.  They wrote a song about Farid, our really quirky tour guide.  Inserted in the middle of the song was a rap in French.  Because why not?

Seeing so many beautiful sites, so much history, was amazing.

Mont St. Michel

a cathedral in Rouen

The American cemetery at Omaha Beach was a powerful experience, so was sitting in mass in a centuries old church.

This is where we went to mass, in Chartres.  The guy in the blue jacket?  Our buddy Farid.

Standing in front of paintings by Leonardo da Vinci, Monet, Gauguin, Renoir, Cassatt.  Incredible.  It fed my soul.

Going to the top of the Eiffel Tower at night when it was all lit up was pure magic.

the view from our river cruise on the Seine

We ate way too much bread and discovered the best kinds of macarons.  Seriously, those macarons could change the world.

I learned to appreciate some American things.  Hotel rooms and reliable internet for example.  And also water fountains.  We mostly walked around thirsty.  In restaurants they'd put a small carafe of water on the table and the glasses were small like shot glasses.  We'd fill up our water bottles in bathroom sinks and sometimes the water was warm bordering on hot but we were that thirsty.

We saw one and only one water fountain in all of France.  It was on American soil.  The American Cemetery at Omaha Beach is on land given to America.  There were big bathrooms with multiple stalls (exciting times!).  Outside there was a water fountain, just like outside public bathrooms in America.  We saw an older woman checking it out and then trying to wash her hands at it.   Emma's friend Fiona showed her how it worked.  The Frenchwoman was delighted and then showed her husband.

There was a group of French school children there.  They were about 10 and we watched them try to mimic us and drink out of the fountain.  They struggled to get their mouth in the right spot and were laughing like it was the most unusual thing in the world.

Is everyone in France just thirsty all the time?

Life, with it's twists and turns, threw us another curve ball while we were away.  Braeden needs surgery again.  He's coming home again.

We are hopeful that he will be able to return to his mission after the surgery.   Adam returned from his vacation with Mark and his mom a few days before we got home.  He bought milk so we're ready for Braeden.  I'm looking forward to hugging him and taking care of him and talking to him and all the things.

The five of us, shoulder to shoulder and facing things is a good place to be.

Thelemma

We're off!  Today!  I have to get my house in order and my suitcase filled.  Not much time for blogging.

I am excited.  I'm looking forward to time with Emma.  (Thelma + Emma = Thelemma)

She corrects nearly everything I say.  She looks at me with looks of derision often and effectively.  She told me I looked "frumpy" when I was trying to figure out if I should pack a skirt.  (In the history of the world, no one overthinks packing like I do.)  Like Marianne said, frumpy is never a kind thing to call someone.  She's a teenage daughter though and she is really really good at it.

Also, she is very funny and smart.  She knows French.  She gives the best hugs in the world and she is kind (mostly) and loyal.  She gets me.  When I told her I was possibly crazy with anxiety about the trip.  She said, "Not crazy.  You are an ISFJ. You're a planner."  Her smile lights up my life.  I'm over the moon that I get to share this trip with her.  It wouldn't be possible without Adam.  Besides the obvious financial contribution, he encouraged me to go and keeps telling me when I get nervous how great it will be.

I will try to blog when I am there.  I'm only taking my phone so I'm not sure how blogging will go.  (I'm choosing books instead of technology when it comes to suitcase space.)

Good books don't let you down.