Wednesday, March 9, 2011

The Blurrrr....

The River Seine at Carrières-sur-Seine

Arriving in France was like waking up from a dream, not necessarily good, not necessarily bad. The last few weeks in New York were packed with tedious necessities, painstaking good-byes, and un-grounding my very rooted self. Looking back I couldn't pinpoint one particular day or week even, it was just a glob of events, one leading into the next, some great and some not so great, but those are best forgotten. I was relieved as the plane touched down. The move was over. I knew things would be slow again, at whatever speed I wanted them to be. And I was finally at the beginning.

Having visited countless times before, I knew what to expect. Our new apartment was typical French - light and airy, with glass doors opening unto a balcony, not very large but good enough. I made a mental note to keep the balcony off limits to Jasmine until she could be trusted not to try and climb over the railing. My doubts were confirmed the next day when she tried to do just that. Our new but yet old village is quaint with the likely boulanger, crêperie, fresh outdoor market, post office, and a few other basic necessities along the Seine. We are situated where the Impressionist movement began. I bought some paints & canvas for Jasmine and I, all that creative energy emanating from the ground will surely inspire us. She already wants to paint Papa. I took photos of the Seine on Saturday, looking through my camera was like looking at Monet. I could definitely see it and undoubtedly feel it.

Surrounded by so many new things, my thoughts were really on my husband, Jasmine, and me. After six weeks apart, the separation took its toll but I hoped not by much. Both of us experienced this transition in different ways, changing us, a smidgen. With so much emotions and tensions, it was difficult to sift through its wake and find ourselves as a couple, at least for me. If anyone knows us, they know we've been inseparable these past eight years like Paul & Linda (minus the bust for cocaine, of course). I can see and almost touch the old “us”. There are moments were it shines through, when all is relaxed and we're alone. I know a whole lot of adjustment has to happen in our new roles, in a new home, in a new land, before things normalize. Reflecting on the situation now, I can see how leaving New York might've been the easiest part. This is a long journey with many bumps and holes in the road...well at least that's a familiar New York City street.

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