Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day.

(Perry Como – Catch a falling star)

I had to use the falling star I saved in my back pocket, found on a beautiful warm September night in Ottawa whilst floating in my pool.  Travelling by plane does not float my boat.  Don’t get me wrong, if the choice becomes go or do not go on account of the plane I will go everytime, but, it doesn’t mean I like it.  

My closest girlfriends,  all knew that I did not want to go to Paris this year.  My heart just wasn’t in it.  We hadn’t booked flights or an apartment by mid September. Systematically, categorically I hurtled pieces of our travel puzzle that did not fit like lightening bolts back at my husband.  My answer was consistent and emphatic…NO.  This year has been without hesitation the hardest and longest year of my life.  The anger and bitterness are slowly fading as the dawn of a new year and attitude make their approach.  I simply did not want the hastle of planning, speaking, and keeping track of everyone.

Then on that warm September night floating in our pool and flanked by our children Chris brought it up again.  Armed with all the missing pieces of our travel puzzle and like the persistent woman in the Gospel they wheedled yet another trip to the City of Lights out of these old bones.  Checkmate occurred when a starry eyed Sarah declared “Oh look mommy, a falling star!”

Still, I couldn’t get excited.  I opened our suitcases the day before we left.  I don’t have an itinerary and until we were lunching al fresco in Luxembourg Park this afternoon, none of it felt real. 

Paris has always been a place where my creativity flows and it has always given me ample opportunity to reflect, and discern.  Truth be told I am happy to be here and the surprising reflection I coming to terms with is that maybe the minutae does not need to be planned.  Perhaps, just perhaps I can turn my face to the wind, let loose the cannons of control, shed this crysallis and let the wind carry it to cimetière Père Lachaise.

Travelling with a family of five is no easy task.  Finding an apartment that will hold a family our size and within our budget is elusive.  This year we are in the13th arr and this is new for us.  We have invested nine years in the Buci, Saint Germain-des-Prés. It means forging new friendships and making a new griffe.  Frankly, I love it and our new apartment.  Quiet, peaceful and with a balcony view of Paris that is formidable, truly formidable…la Tour Eiffel, Sacre Coeur, Pantheon, and the Observatory, like old friends are all in clear view from where I sit waiting for dawn and typing this post.