Rich is the flavor that has touched my life in France.
Every sense has been saturated, from taste to touch, sight to sound, sweetly combine with sound.
If I could change one thing about living in France it would be that my family lived next door. I will always miss them, and only a spiritual love can make up for that sense of loss.
With Sacha living in Seattle, I am reminded of the distance even more, and it was already enough. Also the other day a young man from my hometown came to live in France. A few years ago he met a French woman who was living in California, they fell in love and she wanted to return to France, so he followed her. He does not speak French, though is in the process of learning. We have many similarities, and they came to the surface when I met him in Cassis with his Mom who came to visit him. His Mom (someone I went to high school with) spoke the same things my Mom use to speak when I first left that I am speaking now that Sacha has left: Sadness, happiness, emptiness, fullness the gamut that families feel when they are separated.
Rich is the flavor that has touched my life in France: Sweet, sensual, solid, with a few lumps that add to the texture that comes with daily life. But as in everything in life, it comes with a price.
Thankfully, love the big spoon of giving and receiving stirs it gently.
Stirring gently these days.
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What is stirring you these days?
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