A STAR SHINES BRIGHTLY OVER ‘THE CITY OF LIGHT’

A series of essays....

LIGHTING A CANDLE SYMBOLIZES SAYING A PRAYER FOR SOMEONE

Courtesy Pinterest 

....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

The massive doors stood wide open as the young girl, walking behind her parents, enters the cathedral. She feels a bit strange and realizes she has been holding her breath since the sunny outside courtyard pushed her from behind into this darkened world of flickering candles and explosion of echoed whispers. The sudden darkness was making her head spin and eyes dilate in the struggle to adjust. She stops, momentarily, to gain her composure and learn how to breathe, once again. Exhale, inhale, exhale she tells herself. In all of her eleven years of life, she never expected to feel so unsettled and awestruck as she was at this very moment.

THE MASSIVE DOORS AND ORNATE
ARCHWAYS OF THE NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL 

Courtesy hubpages.com

Her mother’s white sweater serves as a beacon of light and her lower body decides to rigidly move towards it, one small step at a time. Her eyes become more adjusted to the living shadows that crisscross before her in random patterns. It’s so dark, so dark, she thinks and moves in the direction of the table of tall, white candles with golden flames dancing like a hundred Tinker Bells before her eyes. The candlelight begins to provide a comforting, warm feeling and she moves closer to it while keeping the familiar sweater in sight.

The girl is greeted by an erratic wax landscape that thickly coats the metallic table standing a few feet away from her. The constant flow of melting wax reminds her of white lava flowing down a mountainside and then solidifies in dribs and drabs as it eventually cools down. Each white taper stands at least a foot tall and is nestled in its own holder keeping it upright while the wax flows down, down and coats the table with its pure whiteness.

Mom and dad stand head to head several feet away. Mom’s face looks very sad when dad whispers something into her ear and hugs her, gently. She shouldn’t feel sad. We’re here! We made it! 

TALL, WHITE TAPER CANDLES MADE OF
BEESWAX LIT IN HOMAGE OF LOVED ONES

Holding an unlit taper in her right hand, she drifts into a world of remembrances including the crazy view from the observation deck of the Tower the day before. Pictures she’d seen in books could never compare to the real deal; the flow of buildings as far as the eye could see that radiated out from its base and made her feel as dizzy as the height of the Tower itself did. Her eyes settling at the waistlines of most of the compacted crowd, feeling crushed alive as they pushed towards the elevators and their caged decent to ground level.

Sitting at the base of the Arch feeling hot and worn down, she recalls what seemed like an innumerable amount of cars racing around her, around the Arch, spewing gasoline fumes while looking like lost souls trying to find their way home. Dad taking touristy pictures of her wearing the black, woolen beret recently purchased at the shop on the corner. And, walking, walking with Mom and Dad around this enormous city filled with its August heat, foreign words, and virtual sea of people. She began to understand that the three of them were tourists (time travelers, if you will) who were in constant awe of the breadth and depth of this timeless city.

THE INNER BEAUTY OF NOTRE DAME,
AN ANCIENT CATHEDRAL 

THE SPIRITUAL WORLD OF
FLICKERING CANDLES AND ECHOED WHISPERS

Shaking herself back into the present, the girl knows why and for whom she is about to light her candle, say a small prayer for, and then place it among the hundreds of other souls now flickering in the holy darkness. She suddenly knows why her mother seemed so sad before and her father’s kind whisper was meant to soothe the hurt away.

Directing the wick towards another flickering light, suddenly her candle burst into the  golden flame that represents her own grandmother, her mother’s mother, who had passed away not long before. May her soul be lifted up to you, sweet God, and help my mom know that grandma is okay at your side. The girl did not like seeing her mother so sad. She thought about how much she loves and misses her grandma, too.

Walking around the end of the table, she quickly slips a one franc coin into the slit of the collection box. Snuggling between her parents, she wraps one small arm around each of their waists; her bright, white sneakers directing the threesome further into the depths of the Notre Dame Cathedral and the many layers of religion, culture, and history that has symbolized French identity for over 850 years. 

Please stay safe and think about a healthy future for everyone. VOTE!

OUT OF THE FLAMES—
SHE WILL RISE ONCE AGAIN!

               

Courtesy time.com

Copyright © 2020 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

HAIL MARY, FULL OF GRACE....

A series of essays....

THE PEOPLE OF PARIS SING THEIR PRAISES TO THEIR LADY,
THE BLESSED VIRGIN AS THEY WATCH THE NOTRE DAME CATHEDRAL BURN

             Courtesy of Chicago Tonight

....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

Waking up this morning, the morning after the fire, my nostrils are filled with the acrid smell of empathy smoke and my eyes are swollen by the tears that continue to be shed. It is so simple to identify with all of Paris, all of France, the entire world, today.

How resilient the French citizens of Paris are! After all of the suffering they have been forced to endure at the hands of trained terrorists, they kneel, illuminated by the orange glow of angry flames that devour their Lady, and sing their praises to her with great sadness filling their hearts! Like soft spoken tributes set free on miniature clouds of glory, their words rise above them and collectively float over the Seine to touch her soul with their Love.

No other violence occurred at this time, to my knowledge. No looting. No other fires set. No senseless damage done to anyone else’s property. Only the unified beating of hearts that believe in something greater than themselves can be heard. Their Beautiful Lady, along with all of her familiar relics and adornments, is reflecting powerful strength and courage in the distance; a Middle Age wonder caught up in the Modern Age of Martyrdom. How apropos that Joan of Arc was canonized a saint within Notre Dame’s hallowed walls.

Hail Mary, full of grace. The Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death, Amen.

“Say three Hail Marys as your penance and may the Lord be with you, my child,” the priest would say before sliding the petite and fragile, curtained window closed. I would step out from the confessional feeling blessed and slide into the nearest pew, press my knees into the slightly cushioned kneeler and devoutly say my Hail Marys while gazing, lovingly, at the statue of the Blessed Virgin holding the baby Jesus. She has never let me down and has always been there for all of us.

THE BLESSED VIRGIN
HOLDING THE BABY JESUS

According to CatholiCity, the practice of reciting the Hail Mary three times, dates back to the 12th century. One of the first to practice and recommend it was Saint Anthony of Padua (1195-1231). His purpose was “to honor the spotless virginity of Mary and to preserve a perfect purity of mind, heart, and body in the midst of the dangers of the world.” Lest we forget, ours is not the only time period that danger and hate have infiltrated the world.

Stephen Colbert’s ‘Midnight Confessions’ segment on the Late Show With Stephen Colbert, where he makes light of the deeply personal Act of Contrition, allows Catholics to smile, be our vulnerable selves, and not be ashamed of our personal weaknesses.

The Notre Dame Cathedral has always been a relevant part of French history. To be able to save her shell of stone and mortar, her melodic bells housed within the iconic twin towers (bell towers) that have rung out historical notes of victory and hope for centuries, and her flying buttresses that are, even now, reinforcing her heavy, stone walls, we acknowledge the fact that her future rides on the capabilities of mankind. We remember her humble beginnings nearly 900 years ago when mankind mapped out her iconic beauty and gave her life in the heart of Paris.                                                  

We see her as being beautiful. It has now been determined that she is savable. She is so much more than just a pretty face. Notre Dame Cathedral is a symbol of the good that lives within each one of us. She is worthy of every ounce of our defiance and determination. God bless the firefighters who knew exactly how to do their job in order to keep her glory and symbolism alive. And, we are relieved to know that this precious gift of all humanity will rise once again!

My personal memories of Our Lady and the Notre Dame Cathedral are many. I have two visits that stand out the most for me. First of all, I remember watching our eleven-year-old daughter demolish a jambon et fromage sandwich for lunch while we stood admiring the The Bronze Star, the reference marker from where all road distances from Paris to other French cities are calculated, and was embedded in the paving stones of Notre Dame Cathedral square in 1924. We felt as though we were standing smack dab in the heart of the world! Secondly, Dan and I were able to attend vespers, a service of evening prayer, while we joined others who happened to wander into the Cathedral at dusk. The singing voices, amplified by the incredible acoustics, sounded like the angels singing their praises to God and we were fortunate observers of this melodic miracle.

THE BRONZE STAR 

                                              Courtesy paris-walking-tours.com

Our Lady’s personal prayer, The Hail Mary, serves us all in that the Lord does look upon her, his Mother, with favor and considers her a blessing among women. He has sought her out for consultation, believes in her every word, as we, sinners all, implore her prayers to save our souls at the hour of our death when we will then be judged by God. She is a powerful figure and the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris will rise once again to physically represent our human need and desire for grace and beauty while meeting our spiritual needs and answering our prayers for salvation.

Continuing to say my three Hail Marys each day, I feel grateful that the French will carry out the mending of their Beautiful Lady. I will hope and pray that its completion will take place in my lifetime, not to compare the original with the new, but to revel in her survival.

Copyright © 2019 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

FEELING QUITE PARISIAN IN LEXINGTON

 A series of essays....

OUR 'PETITE SLICE OF PARIS' ON NORTH LIMESTONE IN LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY

....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes

What goes up will come back down, eventually....at least for a few more road trips, anyway!

We’re heading back to our Florida home after spending two cold, snowy weeks of Winter in April up in Kalamazoo! Some highly productive work accomplished on the inside of the house with enough demolition to fill a ten-yard dumpster! That was a very good thing. Anything that needed to be done on the outside was a distinct impossibility, and this set us back on our time schedule a bit, unfortunately.

A SCENE DAN AND I DON'T
EXPERIENCE EVERY DAY!

Months ago, Dan’s initial demolition of the back of the house was shared by the highly capable hands of our son-in-law, Matthew. Ripping out the existing three-season room was their specialty. I admit it; I played ‘voyeur’ by observing some of their hard work via the security camera we’d installed in the dining room, located in a window just off of the back deck. I remained in Florida for the long weekend while all of this was taking place.

POOR GUY IS STUCK IN
DEBRIS TWO RUNGS DEEP

During a subsequent trip we both made up to Michigan, I watched Dan and his brother, Leo, level out and finish the new floor deck, build the new portion of the kitchen’s side walls, and construct its vaulted beams and plywood clad roof. I was in heaven! We were making progress towards a new kitchen, as well as a new life, eventually, up in Kalamazoo!

This recent go around afforded us a two week span for completing kitchen demo, placing the new windows and doors that, also, needed to be stained, and figuring out electrical placement and heat runs.

"HEY! WE REALLY DIDN'T NEED TO
SUPPORT THE SECOND FLOOR!!"

The demo of most older houses can be tricky to quite difficult at best. You just never know what you’re going to find! Knowing all of this going in helped to ease some of the pain as Dan discovered floor joists cut in half, large notches cut out of studs to make way for water pipes, and the fact that one corner of the old, existing kitchen was so rotted from years of water intrusion that it had to be framed-up again before it came crumbling down on our heads. You know....the typical stuff, and all very frustrating and time consuming.

A SPIDER FROM HELL;
A DISASTER WAITING TO HAPPEN!

In taking down some of the drywall in the garage ceiling to try and make sense out of the current pipes and electrical positioning, Dan discovered the quintessential outlet from hell. There were thick, black wires coming out of this ‘monster’ that traveled every point of the compass throughout the house and resembled a large, mutant spider that had been unleashed after many years of captivity. Always good for a laugh or two, right?

While Susie, Leo’s wife, thoughtfully brought a large pot of her delicious, homemade ham and bean soup which provided the four of us with two amazing, healthy meals, she and I made miraculous headway towards keeping dishes clean by utilizing the bathroom sink. Marsha had brought over a 'right out of the oven' quiche that we, gratefully, called breakfast the next morning. Delicious! Also, it was openly and gratefully discovered how productive Susie can be on a construction sight. Never afraid of getting her hands dirty or ignoring what needs to be done, she wields a mean trash shovel and is wicked when it comes to pulling a million staples and nails from the old kitchen flooring with a hammer in one hand and a crowbar in the other!

ONE OF MY FAVORITE PICTURES OF LEO AND SUSIE:
SKYPE SESSION WITH THEIR GRANDSON...

After attending a highly productive writer’s workshop by the author and poet, Jack Ridl, with my dear friend, Marsha, spending sweet, quality time at dance and gymnastic classes with two of our five grand babies, and going out to dinner with several of our good friends....our amazing neighbor, Ginny, sent us off last Saturday morning with a goody bag of rich, delicious homemade Michigan brownies layered with dark, sweet cherries. Yum! All in all, Dan and I felt very well taken care of and, of course, loved! 

MR. JACK RIDL: TEACHER, POET, AUTHOR,
AND A MOST DELIGHTFUL HUMAN BEING!

ADMIRING THIS WEDDING
GOWN IN A SHOP WINDOW

Deciding to spend the night in Lexington, Kentucky, we consciously shortened the first day of driving in order to relax and enjoy seeing this clean, beautiful city from a daytime perspective. “Where should we have dinner?” was the important question of the evening and we just took off heading downtown with the element of surprise in mind. Dan’s eye caught the green of an Irish Pub and took a right turn onto N. Limestone before realizing that we’d landed in the famous historical section of Lexington. Driving slowly by the Irish Pub, Le Deauville Bistrot, beautiful old storefronts and shops, and architecturally brilliant, restored, two-story walk-ups, we decided to park and walk this historic portion of Lexington while taking it all in slowly and methodically.

Le Deauville Bistrot was our dining place of choice. Just like its namesake located on Av des Champs Élysée near the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, Le Deauville Brasserie, it offered late-night food in a cozy and casual atmosphere.

WAITING FOR THEIR TABLE

Crowded with couples and small groups either already eating and drinking or waiting their turn at a table, the maître d managing the ‘front of the house’ asked if we had a reservation! What were we thinking? It was a Saturday evening at this intimate French Bistrot in major downtown U.S.A. and we thought we’d be able to be seated! Bon chance, my friends....

Well, good luck is exactly what we had because, you see, after a moment or two, he came back to us and said, “If you would like to wait, a couple will soon leave a small (as to verge on insignificant) round table that is positioned near the back of the bar area.” The hustle and bustle of wait staff and all of the warm bodies pressed up to the small bar before being taken to their reserved tables offered us a unique challenge but one we were happy to accept if it meant being fed. Since Dan and I are devout ‘people watchers,’ we felt we had nothing to lose. That is, of course, if you don’t count stepped-on toes and feeling quite exposed along with six to eight others brushing arms together by the curtained-off front door.

With patience can come great rewards. After a ‘loud’ span of around thirty minutes, our smiling maître d leads us towards a cloth covered table for two within the main dining area while explaining that we had been so patient and the couple at the tiny table had taken so long to wrap up their dessert and pay their bill. We were delighted, of course, and celebrated with a glass each of fragrant, Provençal Rose, a cheese and fruit board to share, and small loaves of crusty French baguette. Pure heaven!

The table for four near us was, eventually, vacated just about the time our entrées arrived and the staff was elegantly clearing away dishes and exchanging soiled cloth for clean, pure white linens. Each movement was orchestrated right down to the tinkling of the new glassware and spotless flatware being inspected and set out for four new guests.

THINLY SLICED ROASTED DUCK

DAN'S FILET MIGNON

As I am taking pictures of my thinly sliced duck with seasonal vegetables and sweet potato purée, I hear Dan saying, “We know the gentleman they just seated at that table. He’s a news or sportscaster but, I just can’t place him right now.” Sneaking subtle peeks at his table and peering out through the bottom of my tilted wine glass, I felt I had a good idea about who the man was seated only several steps from our table.

His name I could not connect with and I reasoned that we only saw him upon certain occasions as a broadcaster for the Peacock Station. Sitting in the heart of horse country, we associated him with the Derby and proceeded to Google him for a name. Tom Hammond was staring back at me from across the short distance as he drank his white wine. I didn’t have the heart to share with Dan, at the time, all of my thoughts about this man, a University of Kentucky alum who lives in Lexington (thank you, Google!) and has broadcast basketball, football, and the Olympic Games. After all, I couldn’t even remember his name a few moments ago!

TOM HAMMOND AND FRIENDS

This chubby man with his thick, salt and pepper mane and strange, overly made-up eyes was now staring at me because I was the only person directly within his line of sight in this small, three room maze of a French Bistrot that is so wildly popular with many Lexington locals. Instinctively, I did what anybody with an i-Phone would do and took his picture! Granted, Dan was intended to be the main subject but, I was pleased by the results. I am hoping that Tom Hammond was flattered because you couldn’t put much past anyone in such small quarters.

No dessert, coffee, or brandy for us after such a great meal. We had a long day of driving the following day and wanted to get enough sleep that night. 

What a wonderful date with my husband on a Saturday night in Lexington! It almost felt like being in a small bistrot on a side-street in Paris with delightfully anticipated food and wine to tantalize the taste buds and get the blood flowing. Perfect!

Oh, and when we sit down to watch the 2018 Kentucky Derby on Saturday, May 5, and listen to the dulcet tones of Mr. Tom Hammond serving as NBC’s main host and broadcaster, I’ll be sure to tip my lavishly eccentric, wide-brimmed, beribboned, “Southern Belle” inspired hat while raising a frosty mint julep his way. Cheers! And may the best horse win!!

MY SWEET GARDENIA PLANTS GREETED
US HOME IN FULL REGALIA ~ HEAVILY LADEN
IN SOFT, CREAMY FLOWERS...

Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

Photo Copyright © 2018 by Jacqueline E. Hughes

All rights reserved

THE JOY OF LIVING

A series of essays.....

Paris 2003 ~ Where People Meet To Talk, Eat, Drink, Love, And Watch The World Go By!

.....as seen through my eyes!




By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


You would had to have lived under a rock all of your life not to be somewhat familiar with the French, and highly universal phrase, 'joie de vivre.' The joy of living! Maybe you don't pronounce it quite correctly in French. That's okay. At least you try. Maybe your spelling is off a bit. That's why the Internet exists.....certainly for me, anyway!

This past Friday, November 13, 2015, I reasoned this phrase, this inspiring interpretation of life, must have died along with all of the poor souls that had been so wrongfully taken away from us during the late hours of a charming Friday evening in Paris.....France. I couldn't have been more wrong!

I believe that the spirit and joy of living, enjoying life, people, and the world around us, has, if nothing else, intensified. Everything that 'joie de vivre' implies makes us realize even more how precious this feeling of happiness and excitement about life truly is. Especially when such barbaric attempts to eradicate its 'pure joy' is alive, well, and, seemingly, unstoppable.

Perhaps you were acquainted with one of the victims or with members of their families. In this age of social media, this is even more probable than any other time in our history. The question is asked, "How do we, the survivors, continue on after such a loss?" It's still life......we know it is different now but, it's still life and so many others have become more dependent upon those who have been left behind to pick-up the pieces.

There are children made orphans; spouses abandoned by the loss of their husband or wife; survivors instantaneously categorized as a single parent; older parents losing an adult child and, so much potential for giving back to others lost in moments filled with pure  evil and hate. The carnage was only half of it; so much more seems to be at stake here. I realize it's the human beings left behind, like pieces of a gigantic puzzle, they take on the shape and curvature needed to fill in those spaces created by the loss of each one of those lives. 

You might ask what could possibly be the protocol for rising above such depths of despair? Is there really a simple guidebook or set of rules governing the aftermath of such grave, unexpected loss? Not really. However, in my admiration for the French people and their particular design on everyday life, joie de vivre still shines through the fragile cracks like much needed sunshine after a long, arduous storm.

Afraid, hurting, and reeling from the massacre of their fellow and worldly citizens, Parisians, being themselves, being French with everything applied to this title, cautiously began to fight back in the best way they knew how. Fitting each word together like a novelist creating  her next chapter, Parisians knew that the hate mongers   could not take away the high spirits, gaiety, exuberance, and zest for life they chose to enjoy and define themselves by. At least, not for long. Their next chapter, their brand new story, was not going to be based on the hate they had recently experienced first-hand. Life is meant for the living and the French, especially Parisians, know how important it is to live life to the fullest.

And, this is precisely the attitude that most of us who love and admire the French lifestyle are drawn to. We are moths seeking the flickering, bright flame we associate with owning élan and want to experience the rush of adrenaline served-up to the French as a birthright.

Daesh. Daesh is an Arabic word meaning a group of bigots that impose their will upon others, according to "Morning News USA." I remain uncertain as to why this group dislikes this title so much considering the terminology seems to fit so perfectly. I believe that most of the insane and radical reasons that Daesh chose the particular venues that it did last Friday was its attempt to cripple the youthful spirit and extinguish the bright light of joy and hope that flourishes within the heart of each French person. The flame may have sputtered and almost gone out that night but, the French, Parisians in particular, will never allow that to happen.

My question is this.....  Do we fight hate with hate? Do we allow fear to be the negative beacon that lights our path to a worldly disaster? And, do we allow Daesh to cripple our sensitivities to the point of filling our own hearts with hate, as well? You know that is their goal. If we hate, we will be just like them.

Unfortunately, by not accepting the innocent human beings, the refugees who are attempting to escape the senseless slaughter and injustices inflicted upon them in their homeland, we are heading into a new world that even 'joie de vivre' will not be able to penetrate. The governors of each state in America who have chosen fear over love and common sense when it comes to offering refuge to living breathing souls are falling deeply into the patterns of the same hate dictated by Daesh and al-Qaeda. You can be certain that they will be warming the pews of their religious affiliation of choice this Sunday with more than enough smiles and handshakes to go around.

The general hypocrisy of mankind is based on many things with power, money and the fear of losing the next election being among them. Although, power and money, in my estimation, are one and the same. Fear, hatred, and greed has polarized the United States for way too many years now. It is time to inject our own 'joie de vivre' into the world we call home and live, laugh, love, and even, disagree with one another while we kiss and embrace the moment.

I often tell my two girls about the open-minded concept concerning social topics that their father and I experienced while attending Michigan State University back in the late sixties. It was common to walk through the study areas of your dorm at midnight only to find groups of students hotly debating various ideas generated by class discussions or particular world affairs and events. We didn't have a cell phone attached to our faces and we relied on our knowledge and personal opinions to feed the conversation. Not seeing eye-to-eye was all part of it. Talking with one another and sharing views was healthy and there wasn't a computer to lean on when a discussion got heated. I miss those days for so many reasons. We have lost the art of face-to-face communication and I find this to be very worrisome.

I will be honest when I say that writing about the terrorist attack on Paris that took place last Friday was difficult for me. First of all, I had to calm down a lot and try to make some sense out of a senseless situation. Still haven't accomplished this one yet. I had to employ many of my own beliefs with regard to love vs. hate, good will always overcome evil, having faith and hope in mankind will conquer all, and showing kindness and forgiveness towards others will bring joy into my heart and soul. I questioned myself on all counts just as I had done after the destruction of the Twin Towers in 2001, the realization that the Syrian President, Bashar al-Assad, could destroy and murder his own people, trying to understand the multiple suicide bombings that have killed thousands of innocent people, and commercial aircraft being taken out of the sky by various means in order to kill thousands more.

I sit back and shake my head in wonder.

Daesh believes it has found our Achilles heel. It has learned that to strike terror in others, it must completely destroy the joy in their life. It must deplete the innocence we were born with and insert fear and hatred in its place. It has learned to attempt to destroy the creative side of our natures by crumbling great works of art and wiping-out the visual history of statues and monuments that represent some of  man's greatest achievements. It wishes to relieve us of our freedom of speech, as well as the sheer joy of sharing thoughts and ideas with one another. Daesh knows that to kill the body is the only way it can be assured of accomplishing this.

Planting terror into the hearts and minds of free thinking people would mean one thing......successfully extracting the 'joie de vivre' that exists there. This past week tells us that the French, Parisians in particular, will never allow anyone to deplete their 'raison d'etre,' reason for being, or dismiss their Joy of Living under any circumstances!


Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

Photograph Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved

LIVING VICARIOUSLY IN REAL TIME

A series of journeys.....

CORINNE AND MICHELLE AT THEIR AIRBNB FLAT IN AMSTERDAM

.....as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E. Hughes        

Occasionally, my thoughts are written down in longhand. I like to feel the slight heft of my pen and observe the swirls of black, gel ink as they are semi-absorbed into the fibers of the yellow pages of my legal pad and continue to accumulate until they exhaust the space of each blue-lined sheet. Writing in cursive script is a beautiful thing. How it lends itself to a creative and artistic inclination warms my heart and brings me pure joy! Why it is being forsaken within our school system infuriates me....but, another story for another time.

This 'old school' writing exercise began this past Friday when my youngest daughter and one of her best friends from college flew to Amsterdam to begin their sixteen-day, European adventure together. Seeing ink on paper, I believe, was my way of feeling a bit closer to them. With Amsterdam, Paris and London in sight, these two beautiful young ladies have so much to look forward to, experience and enjoy.

Oh, to be so young and carefree........but, wait a minute! Let's apply the breaks here and analyze this situation! Corinne is the Mother of three of our five grandchildren. This includes a seven-year-old and a three-year-old set of twins. Wife of Matt, our son-in-law whose love of hunting and fishing is much like an extended career, she is responsible, hard-working and a pillar of her small family nucleus. Corinne is certainly young, however, carefree may not be one of the adjectives most of us would apply to her everyday, hectic lifestyle. So, how is it that she is able to pull this one off?

KERRINGTON, LYDIA AND BRENDAN

So much thought went into their trip and, many obstacles had been thrown along the path leading to its fruition. I know it had been planned over three years ago with last summer being the original departure date. Michelle, friend and travel companion, unknowingly had other matters to contend with last year when she experienced kidney failure and spent a lengthy amount of time on a kidney donor list with surviving this ordeal as her only objective.

Corinne graciously volunteered her kidney but was denied after taking the appropriate tests to determine if she would be compatible. Would I have been so forthcoming given this situation? I wonder to this day.

Miraculously, a young gentleman, husband and father whose appropriate medical criteria matched Michelle's, heard of her 'fight for life' and came forward to volunteer his kidney. Not knowing Michelle or anyone in her family, he said it was something he felt he needed to do as long as he was healthy and capable of helping someone in dire need.


MICHELLE AND VAN GOGH

Michelle received her new kidney and it was accepted by her without major consequences and....today, she is roaming around the beautiful, canal-filled, capital city of the Netherlands, Amsterdam, with my daughter, Corinne. The attainment of something worked for, desired and planned for so strenuously, made real at last, is a major victory for them in my book. The result of which made so much sweeter by having overcome such adversity along the way.

International texting is magnificent! "Canal tour and Ann Frank House today! Freshening up for the evening. These made me think of you." Knowing my love for hydrangeas, Corinne sent a picture she'd taken of them growing within an Amsterdam cityscape. "It's true....Heineken really does taste better here in Amsterdam!" she wrote while dining on Herengracht Street. When I asked if the colorful French macaroons she sent a picture of were as delicious as they looked, she replied, "I took this picture from outside of the shop! I was afraid to go in."


MY HYDRANGEAS

I have always wanted to visit the Van Gogh Museum so, a few minutes ago, I wrote and asked if it was one of their destinations today and just received this response, "Yep, just got home from there....walked through Vondelpark back to our flat. Enjoyed it very much. Earlier we rode the tram to Central Station and walked to the Sex Museum, bought souvenirs (not from the SM), ate a nice breakfast, and walked the canals." No shocker there because the Sex Museum just happens to be on my list of places to see, too!



MACAROONS

Even though their final day in Amsterdam is coming to a close, if I know my child at all, this day will be chock-full of amazing sights, people and conversations that will highlight her memories of this beautiful city for years to come; generate stories to be passed down to her children and grandchildren. "I remember when Auntie Michelle and I rode our bikes down the cobbled streets of Amsterdam. We skirted around the canals and stopped for a breakfast of Pannenkoeken (Dutch pancakes) at a quaint little café overlooking the Amstel Canal." These memories, coupled with the many pictures she's taken and already placed on Facebook for all to enjoy, will keep this journey alive in her heart and soul forever.

Getting back to the question of how was she able to pull this thing off! One word: Determination! What is that old saying.....where there is a will, there is a way? I know it's quite a cliché, however, if you truly want to do something, you will find a way to do it, in spite of any obstacles. In Corinne's case, any obstacles would be the ones she chooses to create herself because Matt, her in-laws, Mary and David, and, of course, her father and I, were all for it! Leaving young children even for a few days can be challenging for a young mother. Leaving for sixteen days can test one's ability to cope. She knows how much knowledge and enthusiasm for travel she will be bringing back home to share with her children. This experience can't be taught in schools. Her adventurous soul will gently inject the love and respect she has for other people, places and cultures directly into the makeup of her own young children and last them a lifetime. I am proud of my daughter for making this happen!

PANNENKOEKEN

Tomorrow, fourteenth of July, is Bastille Day in France, the French national holiday which celebrates the beginning of the French Revolution. It is France's equivalent to our Fourth of July celebration. Bastille Day is a day of celebrations of French culture when many large-scale public events are held, including a military parade in Paris, as well as communal meals, dances, parties and fireworks.

COURTESY OF: My French Neighbor ~ BASTILLE DAY!

Tomorrow Corinne and Michelle arrive via train in Paris for the second chapter of their brilliant adventure. It will be as though the City of Lights will be welcoming them with open arms, and enough pomp and circumstance to rival the coronation of King Louis XVI with Marie Antoinette by his side. True.... This is probably not the best analogy for Bastille Day. But, you can be sure that cake will be eaten and that the booming, colorful fireworks display at the foot of the Eiffel Tower will draw typical huge crowds filling up the elongated and well manicured, green space of the Champ de Mars spreading out from her base to, eventually, tickle the entrance of the École Militaire (military training facility) located along its southeast side.

The ladies could not have chosen a better time to be in Paris. On this adventure I will be living vicariously through them in one of my most beloved cities in the world and, I can enjoy it in real time thanks to the convenience of international texting and social media. I am so excited about walking the boulevards of Paris tomorrow morning! Ding away little iPhone. I will be waiting for you.....!


Copyright © 2015 by Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved
Pictures from Amsterdam: Courtesy of Corinne Grimm

NOSTALGIA

A series of essays.....

Photo Credit Naked Authors        A WALK DOWN MEMORY LANE......                                   

 

.....as seen through my eyes!



By: Jacqueline E. Hughes


Nostalgia, my old friend, why must I always find you lurking in the vast recesses of my mind...waiting, waiting for my vulnerability to emerge?  Wrap me in your rose-tinted vail so that I may see all that I long for once more.  Seduce me with your false promises but drown this present feeling of 'hope lost' so that I may smile and feel whole again, if only for a short while.

NOSTALGIA

John Larkins, author and one of New Zealand's founding fathers, once wrote, "Nostalgia is the intimate refuge of every man and every woman in a world seemingly gone mad."  If this statement holds credence, this may explain why so many of us choose to escape into a recent past that's been softened and gently shaped by our own good intentions.

My love affair with nostalgia has been a lengthy one and often reveals my true nature as a 'Hopeless Romantic' which includes everything from classic novels to ancient architecture and places that sweep you away to another place...another time.  Nostalgia has always encouraged my love for travel, foreign languages and the embracing of history in all of its myriad forms.  It would be impossible to see Paris without a lengthy visit to at least a portion of her many museums.  Housing some of the world's most important and rich collections, these museums are outstanding for their breadth, accessibility to all and historic importance.

THE LOUVRE MUSEUM IN PARIS

Whether we are seeking to enjoy masterpieces in painting, sculpture, drawings, art objects, and the history of a particular area itself, a museum is arguably the first place to visit in order to flood your senses with a healthy dose of beauty and nostalgia all in one!

The word nostalgia is a strange one.  And, when you say it out loud, it begs to be analyzed.  It feels funny as it vibrates through the nose, dribbles into the mouth and is imprisoned between the teeth.  In the end, it is released from between the lips like an exotic caged bird that's been given its freedom.  With exaggerated expression, speaking it can give the lower half of the face a good workout!  Go ahead....try it for yourself.  And that's just the physicality of this word. 

Nostalgia, as defined by the New Oxford American Dictionary, is a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past; acute homesickness.  For me, impactive emotions radiate from it like laser light beams strobing the atmosphere during a major rock concert and its affect on human nature can be measured by a thousand different points!

There is no intention on my part to debate the positive and negative aspects of nostalgia here, especially since, as stated above, I have  embraced it for all of my own personal reasons.  David Guterson, an American novelist and author of the book, Snow Falling on Cedars, was quoted as saying, "There's a certain nostalgia and romance in a place you left."  This idea has guided me through the small villages of Provence and the wide, organized boulevards of Paris.  A bit of yourself, your own spirit, remains behind in each new location you visit and that place will remember you if and when you ever decide to return! In the meantime, I capture each space, romanticize about it and write down exactly how it made me feel then....how it makes me feel today.

Many insightful factors play important roles as to how nostalgia can and does touch all of us.  They may include age, gender, geographical location, religious background, education, and so on.  Whether it's a certain circumstance, fact or influence that contributes to a particular result in our lives.....we can sift all of these elements together in a vintage mining pan and the odds are that finding the 'golden nugget' at the bottom will be determined by the measure of our desire and time!

NOSTALGIA IN A VINTAGE
MINING PAN

I sift through these elements to help summon all of the great memories I have stored-up in my mind or written down in journals in order to recall the many places I have 'left my spirit' after visiting there.  I reflect upon the beautiful people I've met who have influenced me along the way and graciously shared their spirit, as well as the numerous circumstances revolving around my travels that have generously impacted my life.  From the aged and softened heights of the Twelve Bens, part of the Maumturks Mountains of Connemara in Ireland to the water-smoothed, white speckled rocks found along the Côte d'Azur near Nice in France, and everything in-between.....I draw upon the memories of you each and every day.

ROCK COLLECTION

In an article written by Kacey Culliney for Datamonitor, "Consumers want that trip down memory lane, too, and evoking memories through packaging and marketing falls under the nostalgia and comfort trend. It is about inducing a positive emotional response as they, an aging population, anchor their emotions to another time and place where things were simpler and happier."  A prime example of this would be the annual sales of Girl Scout cookies.  A lucrative business that utilizes this trend fervently....  After all, it's all about triggering memories!!

MY PARENT'S TYPEWRITER

The terminology of 'Retro Style' has been around since the 1970's and the concept of nostalgia is linked to retro.  Wikipedia describes retro as forms of 'technological obsolescence' including manual typewriters, cash registers and bulky hand-held cellphones.  It suggests a fundamental shift in the way we relate to the past.  "Retro suggests a half ironic, half longing consideration of the recent past; recalling 'modern' forms that are no longer current."  As ladies, we may refer to this trend as 'vintage' and flock to upgraded second-hand stores in order to find original designer pieces at a lower cost.  Shopping connoisseurs in Paris have taken advantage of this concept for many years and American woman have returned home with vintage clothes, jewelry and shoes that dot their closets like the sparkling gems their original designers always meant for them to be.....

AHH!! PARIS......!

Yes, I freely admit to being a member of the aging population.  Memories are being triggered by so many sources and Facebook has definitely contributed to this 'overwhelming at times' trend.  If we have reconnected with childhood and school friends, and most of us have, we can literally be bombarded by a timeline of products, music, clothing styles, habits, and so much more every time we connect online.  The true advantage of this trend, I believe, is having the opportunity to share with and analyze early friendships that may have contributed to and helped shape our life as it is today.  Generally, this knowledge can be most enlightening!  And, good for the soul!

Think about how many of our waking moments are spent thinking about our children when they were young and how good it felt to be, well....needed.  Even though the pride we take in raising such strong and independent children is evident and we really wouldn't have it any other way, it is human nature to want to be needed and to be able to pass on to those you love all the life experiences and knowledge you've acquired throughout the years.  And, if so blessed, hallelujah, we have been afforded new chances with new opportunities and they are affectionately entitled.....Grandchildren!!

Have you ever wondered if living in the present might be more liberating for us than evoking our 'old friend' nostalgia to seduce us with false promises?  If you meditate as I do, then you have.  If you are indeed a spiritual being who is constantly enlightened by this beautiful world and people that surround you....then you have.  Who wouldn't welcome improved concentration, increased relaxation and a minimizing of the continuous chatter of thoughts about the future, the past or judgments about what is, which distract us from what's going on in the here and now? 

The blending of these two concepts, living in the present while embracing the past, has been working quite well for me even though I realize this could offer-up contradictions of basic beliefs.  However, I find it liberating to be able to clear my mind of unnecessary chatter through meditation in order to write.  But, to be able to write, it is necessary to fill my mind with facts, ideas and experiences that have been collected from my past. 

Sounds crazy, I know.  But it works for me.  So, they teamed up, discovered that they could make sweet music together and, as they say......the rest is history!

Copyright © 2015 By Jacqueline E. Hughes
All rights reserved