The Pot of Gold

Scenes from France, Corey Amaro, living in France, Paint it beautiful

 

This time is different. This time coming back it doesn't feel like the other times. When I got off the plane I felt like I was home. The only thing missing were those I love that do not live next to me, and the landscape around my Mother's house.

Everything in Provence was familiar: Yann's embrace, the taste of wine, bread and cheese, the sounds, the colors, the light, our home, dishes, garden and bed.

 

The emotional experience of coming back gets heavier. It is what it is: Goodbyes are not enjoyable. In fact they suck.

 

 

  

Scenes from France, Corey Amaro, living in France, Paint it beautiful

 

 

The thing about being a child is (most likely) we see our parents grow older. 

There is a sting in seeing one cycle end and another begin. Whether the transition is happy or sad, letting go means just that… letting go.

The lump in my throat has a way of lumping every emotional moment in my life. You would think at 58 I would have a better grip! Separating past from present is easier said than done especially when they are similar… Saying goodbye is not high on my list of things I like to do.

In the past I shoved my feelings down below the bruise that constantly reminded me that I left my family to join Yann in France. Not because I did not want to be here, rather it was too hard to hold on to both at the same time. This time when I left my mom I cried for quite sometime while my brother Mark drove me to the airport. And when he dropped me off I started to bawl as he drove away. The airline hostess at the check-in desk asked if I needed to sit down? Or was there someone I could call? I just shook my head and gave her my ticket.

 

Years ago my parents and I decided that they could not bring me to the airport when I left Willows because it was too brutal on us. From that day on a relative, or friend dropped me off at the airport.

And so it was extra hard this time as my brother Mark was there, and he cries as easily as I do, which means we could end a drought if we wanted to.

 

 

Scenes from France, Corey Amaro, living in France, Paint it beautiful

 

Paint your life beautiful.

Paint it with the brush at hand.

Grab it, hold it, and paint.

Splatter, wide brush strokes, in intricate detail.

Paint with the colors that speak what is yours:

Blue, Green, Dark Grey, Framboise, Mauve, Noire and Gold.

 

 

 

Scenes from France, Corey Amaro, living in France, Paint it beautiful

 

Forgetting to be honest with my feelings.

Instead of saying what is true.

"I want to hold on to you. I miss very much."

and

"I am happy to be here with you in our home, my home, my life abroad."

Both are true at the same time.

I reach for the paint brush– is that a rainbow after the storm?

A pot of gold with snickerdoodles, walnuts, brocante and our town's pizza.

 



Comments

17 responses to “The Pot of Gold”

  1. Dear Corey
    I know exactly how you feel having done the same thing for so many years. My parents and I made the same pact – we would say goodbye in their home or my home and someone else would go to the airport – seemed less final that way
    Take care
    Kathy

  2. Jacklynn Lantry

    Happiness, sadness two sides of the same coin. It seems far more ardent this time Corey. As I get older I have a more visceral sense of immortality, more for my loved ones than for myself. I see the kids get older, become independent and I hold the elderly as they move beyond this life. Happy, sad, wistful, it all twists together, circles and floats around me…

  3. Reading this with a big lump in my throat…I too cry at the drop of a hat; I am annoyed at myself for doing this plus I’m NOT a pretty crier, more a swollen eyed, red blotches cryer. Sending you a big hug with a tear in my eye X.

  4. I went through the same thing when I would visit my parents. Then dad passed away and it was just mom. Someone would take me to the airport but I would tell her not to come with us. I didn’t want her to see me crying. Too painful. I often would say “not fair” why can’t we have it all and live in the same place. Then at each visit I noticed a decline in mom’s health and it became more painful to leave. Sadly mom passed away last year and no more goodbyes. How I miss her. As far as I know there is no cure for heartaches. We get through it by God’s grace. Hugs Corey.

  5. I’m an American living abroad, also. You’ve summed it up perfectly. I hate saying goodbye to my mother and other family members. I fight back tears. I’m always happy to see my husband and our home when I return to the UK. I’m always torn.

  6. Yes, YES YESSSSSS
    “The lump in my throat has a way of lumping every emotional moment in my life. You would think at 58 I would have a better grip! Separating past from present is easier said than done especially when they are similar… Saying goodbye is not high on my list of things I like to do”
    Exactly….. I’m a few yrs older than you Corey and I (sometimes) still haven’t Mästerei the art either….. Every time I take leave of my mother in Switzerland, of my family – my heart breaker a bit (again and again). We are ALL brokenhearted somehow and somewhat – and that’s a good thing too. Imagine one of us were perfect; it would be hell for all the others 😉
    At the time I went to Canada we made a pact with my family: NOBODY CRIES….. All went well until my baby sister started to ‘waterfall’ and we were goners! When eventually we returned to Switzerland, we cried again, I think my parents cried with joy because we came with a hand-woven ‘Baby carrier – Moses basket’ which we acquired in Mexico (and that only because I HAD to buy it after bartering with the seller for 30′ – although I wasn’t pregnant and we still had 2 months of travel in front of us!!!!) and mum and dad thought her daugther was with baby….. anyway – NOTHING has changed since. Every time we say good bye and I return to France, it’s a water-shed!
    Beautiful words – have a wonderful third advent – Love

  7. My parents insisted on seeing me off at the airport until the last year, when it was just too difficult physically for them to get in and out of cars. They would be at the top of the ramp, just before security, and would stay until our plane took off. I would get out of their line of sight and then just lose it. Leaving was so hard.
    Your paintings are beautiful.

  8. i am totally useless at goodbyes…..i have to take my grown up children to the station and wave like crazy till the train is out of sight, then the tears come. my daughter is about to leave london for nyc for a new job and life. thats an airport visit i’m not looking forward to

  9. Corey, Your way with words is so beautiful, evoking joy and sadness at the same time. Thank you for always sharing with us.

  10. Elaine Harbison

    I don’t leave family behind when I leave France, but I still always cry when I close the door of my house and lock it. I am leaving a piece of me there in that house. Many nights before I fall asleep in the US, I walk through my French house and visit every room. So, dear Corey, I understand what it feels like to have a piece of you in two places. I’m sure it’s more profound when it involves those we love.

  11. Corey, your words today touched me deeply. With the passing of both of my parents, 13 years apart, there is a space of emptiness when I return to my hometown to see brothers and friends…I miss them both. And now, today as a grandmother I watch as my grown children guide their families along and know that one day there will be the possibility that those grandchildren I moved close to at retirement will move away. Always there is the adjusting to change, and the memories wrap around me as I “paint my life beautiful”…thank you for those words.

  12. To love fully is so bittersweet, but the sheer sweetness overrides the bitter. As my parents got older, I found the parting more and more difficult, as I never knew if it would be the last time. Never wanting to leave it to chance, I always made certain to leave nothing unsaid, as I didn’t want to have an “Oh, I wish I had…” moment. I retrace my steps with your beautiful words and there is only sweetness.

  13. Shelley Noble

    Sorry that you suffer so, Corey. Your home stretches from France to California. But you can only physically touch one group of loved ones at a time.

  14. Rebecca from the pacific northwest

    It’s so painful because your heart is so large, encompassing a rich life of loving family … spread awfully far apart. I love your honesty, as ever.
    AND.
    I quite like that first painting especially!
    Paint away, my friend. Paint rainbows and snickerdoodles and croissants and your husband’s embraces. You do that with your words to us. xox

  15. I have lived away from my parents for 50 years, across the country not the ocean, but I cry every good bye. I am 74, my Mom is almost 98 but able to laugh with me and find joy. She can’t hear on phone so we can’t even talk when I am not with her. But I love my husband and the lives we have had in so many states, married for over 52 years, we are long enduring people! I am an ovarian cancer survivor for 21 years, another event I share with you. I love these paintings, are they for sale? Please….

  16. Corey, I feel as lost as you. And my family is just spread out on the east coast – I feel guilty saying this to you. But, the pain runs deep. Thank you for your honest post – as always, I empathize how you feel. Thank you.

  17. Goodbyes, I hate them absolutely. With the passing of my Mom I’m now the oldest in a very small family. It’s the now that you embrace and you see that. When our son moved with our Granddaughter Bijou, and she is as beautiful inside and out as her name implies, my husband and I grieved and I mean grieved. Since our son was a single parent we co-parented with him for ten years and now they are half way across the country. But life is too short to remain in a puddle of tears. But tears have there place. I see the ability to cry as a gift. But for me I no longer say “goodbye” but rather “see you later” and I cover it in thankfulness and for me the sting of the separation is no longer there. Corey you are one very blessed woman! Your life is so full of family, loving relationships and beauty. Thankfulness, a great equalizer for the stings of life.

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