Regarding yesterday's post many of you asked about French Husband's grandmother.
No, I never received anything from her velvet box of jewels.
and no she wasn't upset about French Husband marrying an American woman.
I believe a few things were fogging her view when I came into the scene…. Her age, her history distorted by illness, and family matters. I was not the problem.
She loved French Husband. I do believe she would have loved me if her view had not been out of focused. Time was not on our side.
More importantly my French language skills were next to none. Communication is hard enough with words– let alone without them.
Time renders a different view. Forgiveness is in understanding. And at the end of the day a velvet box is not what matters. But that doesn't mean I would not have liked one of her beauties… or for that matter anything in her house! Oh what a house.
The funny thing is… the memories I hold strongly of sitting by her bedside that day are: The bell on her night stand, the blue satin ribbon she played with, her pressed monogram bed linens, the porcelain cup that held her chocolate, and Yann telling her he was going to marry me…. Yes those details shine brighter in my memory…. I am luckier for that.
Photos taken by my daughter Chelsea in St. Malo where we spent Christmas with French Husband's family.
P.S. The children in the photo are my French grand niece and nephew.
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