Adieu, Au Revoir

Our time together has concluded. We started with two goals: Show mom a good time for her 75th, and experience Paris using emotions. On the first point, I think we accomplished our mission. On the second point, I would like to share some of my French poetry with you.

 No, seriously, I wouldn’t do that to you.

Let’s tally up some data. We walked 26.2 miles and climbed 83 flights of stairs. We flew 7500 miles on two large aircraft. Despite my course work in Microbiology, I ate an embarrassing amount of beef tartar. And macarons. So, so many macarons. Our final itinerary is below. We sadly didn’t make it to The Whiskey Bar, but that gives us a reason to come back someday.

To be a parent is to accept enormous sacrifices for this sometimes cute, mostly manically selfish creature that demands everything and may (or may not) turn out to be a decent human being whose company you enjoy. Even if you like them, there’s no guarantee they will like you. Or that their eventual spouse will either.

I have never wanted children of my own. People always said I would change my mind, but it never happened. It’s like everyone sees the color chartreuse and adores it. “Let’s paint every wall this color! All the furniture, all the carpets, it’s an amazing color you’ll never regret fully integrating into your life.” I look at the chartreuse-plosion and am left wondering, “Is this really a good idea? Like, have we thought this decision through as a species?”

Interestingly, my mother was ambivalent about having kids. Maybe it’s genetic? She wondered, while pregnant with me, if she would even like this parasite growing inside her. She’s quick to add, “If I knew I’d have such an awesome kid I wouldn’t have hesitated.” For the record I was still a selfish prick who caused his fair share of grief with my temper, stubbornness, and entitlement well into my teenage years. I could tell you all stories but won’t. It’s hugely embarrassing.

Despite my “best” efforts she still feels fortunate, but it is me who is lucky. As mothers go, I won the maternal lottery. I got a mom and pal in a single package. I am who I am because of her. If you like me, it’s her hard work you’re witnessing. I love you, mom, and will forever appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You should get as many trips to Paris as you want. I value our friendship very much.

Phew. Emotions. My hands are sweaty and I feel vaguely ill. Enough of that.

If you’re leaving us here, I wish you all the best. Thank you for joining us. A link to unsubscribe is in the footer of this email.

Thank you to my producer, editor, and sounding board, RBD. It is through She all things are made possible. I get to play student and hospital worker, which is educational though not lucrative. We both look very much look forward to the day I contribute again to the household income. Soon now. She has the patience of a saint, as indicated by tolerating my jokes and spending a week in Paris with her mother-in-law. Not a “bucket list” item girls dream about.

This concludes our 2021 travel year. I do not know when our paths will cross again, but I think it fair to expect some stories and adventures in far off lands in 2022. I hope you’ll join us.

Until then … take care, be well, happy holidays, and thanks for reading.

Au revoir.