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every year
i make
a resolution
to
find alexandra.
each year
comes and goes
and
where she is
is still a mystery.
you see,
i have carried
this box with me
for almost
15 years...
i decorated
this box
for her
for her birthday
the year
after
i visited her
and
her family
in
bretagne.
somehow,
as often
happens in life,
i missed
the opportunity
to send it to her.
i moved
then
she moved.
we
lost
touch.
i met alexandra
in the little
farm town
of pullman
surrounded by
wheat fields.
i took
a french
conversation class.
she was the
graduate student
that taught it.
i cannot
tell you
exactly why
but
i instantly
liked her.
i wanted
to be
her friend.
i have always
loved french
but
i needed
help with
speaking
french
so
i asked her
if she would
tutor me.
we met
at the only
coffeeshop
in
this little town
and she
tried
to help me
with my french.
before long
we abandoned
the tutoring
and spent
afternoons
chatting
about life.
and
especially,
at the time,
about love.
when
she returned
to france
at the end
of the year
i promised her
that
i would visit.
and
i did.
the following
summer
i was studying
literature
in
lübeck
and went
to visit her
in
la trinité-sur-mer.
i wish that
i could share
with you
the photos
i took
on that trip.
but
they are buried
somewhere
in an old chest
in my parents' barn.
i can picture
that trip
as if
the photo album
laid open
in front of me.
walking
along the port
with her
little sister.
making crepes
with her
grandma.
playing
pétanque
with her
grandpa.
and
afternoons
driving
with her
and her friends
to
carnac
and
eating crepes
on the sand
by the sea.
her family
took me
on a long drive
into
the countryside
to a large
cottage
in the middle
of nowhere
where they
served
"the best crepes
in bretagne."
her little sister
took me outside
to a window
where you could
look in
and see dozens
of old ladies
in
an enormous kitchen
making crepes.
i have
often wished
i could take
grub there.
alexandra
wrote to me once
at my parent's
house
a few years
after she left.
by the time
i wrote back
it was
too late
and
my letter was
returned to me
unopened
months later.
each time
i was
in paris
i tried
to call the number
she wrote
in the letter.
i left
messages
on strangers'
machines in
broken french.
no luck.
last year
when i packed
to move
to switzerland,
i packed
this box again.
i thought
that
i will try
one more time.
if
i can't
find her
i will bury
this box
in bretagne
somewhere
by the sea.
. . . . .
the other day
a comment
appeared
on my blog.
it made
my heart jump:
Cela fait des mois
que je lis tes blogs
à présent
et
je suis heureuse
d'y retrouver
la Gwen poétique
qui m'avait tant
charmée à Pullman.
Alexandra
. . .
she left
no email.
no address.
i hope that
she sees
this post.
that
she contacts me
again
and
finally
we can
reconnect.
finally
i can
give her
the box
that was meant
for her
so many
years ago
instead of
burying
it somewhere
by the sea.
xo
. . . . .
update:
alexandra left
this comment
february 26th:
C'est incroyable...
Moi aussi j'ai toujours espéré te retrouver.
Nous allons avoir bien des choses à nous raconter ! Je vis sur une petite île en Bretagne-sud, près de Belle-île, qui s'appelle Hoëdic.
J'ai trois enfants de 6, 5 et 4 ans (Gaspard, Adélie et Jeanne).
Leur papa s'appelle Benjamin.
{i didn't
publish
her comment
because it
had her email
and address}
she found me!
the sun
was just
rising
as
we ate breakfast
and headed
out on
a little fishing boat
to see dolphins.
the sun was
so incredibly bright
and
the boats swayed
on the water.
as we moved
farther and farther
from shore
the waves
slapped the boat
and
my heart
quickened.
for some reason
it reminded me
of a book
i read
and loved
many years ago.
a girl alone
on an island.
the island of
the blue dolphins.
i don't remember
the story
that well
but watching
the shore
fade into the distance
reminded me
of
the dolphins
following
karana
as she left
the island.
do you
remember
the story?
something
about
the loneliness
of being left
to forge
for oneself...
there were
moments
during
this trip
i felt that way.
but
in the end
there are
friends
to help
you
through it all.
i imagined
how she must
have felt
leaving
the island
behind her
as the dolphins
swam
alongside the boat.
far away
from the shore
there were
other
animals.
sting ray males
dancing
for the females.
and
sea turtles
like
the ones
released
a week or so
ago.
and
i remembered
a line from
that book
i read
so many years
ago...
more than anything,
it was the blue dolphins
that took [her]
home.
xo
it's times
like this
that you
feel like
you are
riding a wave.
exhilarated
and then suddenly
pulled under...
tumbling down
and around.
a
mouthful
of
sea water.
then
you reach
and come
back up
into
the sunshine.
breathing
the air
again.
i look
at the
calendar
and
the month
is
two-thirds
over.
soon
we will
be back
in switzerland.
grub & i often
talk
about
the two
different
types of trips.
relaxing trips
and
adventure trips.
relaxing is
like going
to
sea ranch.
mexico
is
always
an
adventure.
i have had
moments
that were
relaxing,
but
it is all
so new
and
so different
that
i can
never
be
totally relaxed.
there are
moments
that make
up for
all the
stress
and worry.
for all
the fear.
one of
them
was
watching
the
baby sea turtles
desperately
crawl
towards the sea.
watching
these
turtles
disoriented
and
so very small
against
the backdrop
of the ocean,
i thought
that
compared to them
my life is
so easy.
my struggles
are few.
their struggle
is the embodiment
of all that
i have studied
in biology.
the struggle
to survive.
it's so
much more
than just
making
it to the water
because
the water can
be just
as dangerous
as the shore.
some people
thought
i was crazy
to take
my 3.5 month
old baby
to mexico
but
even though
i have
wondered
if we did
the right thing
when
i cannot sleep
at wee hours
of the morning.
there is one
thing
i have learned
and
hope to teach
my daughter
by example...
all
the most
wonderful
things in
life come
with some
risk.
don't be
afraid
to catch
that wave
even if
it may pull
you under.
you can reach
and find
your way
back up
to the surface
and
into
the sunshine.
xo
{all fisheye photos & panorama above by my friend maria ikenberry}
when i arrived
a little over
a week ago
the wisteria
was in its
full glory...
now
the little
purple
flowers
are
beginning
to coat
the ground.
i think wisteria
will always
remind me
of
my move
to
switzerland.
i sat in
the
jardin botanique
(where
i am
staying)
and wrote
thank you letters
and postcards
in the sun
all afternoon
while
families
walked in
the garden
and had
drinks and
ice cream
on the benches.
as the sun
began
to fade
i went in
to the kitchen
to gather
my bread
and cheese
from
the saturday market
for
an afternoon snack
in
the last
of the sun.
there was
a huge selection
of cheese
yesterday
at the market
but
when i explained
to the cheese man
i could only eat
pasteurized cheese
because
i was pregnant
he thought
for a second
and said
there were
only two
that
were pasteurized!
how different
from the US,
no?
hope you
have a wonderful
mother's day.
xo
i am
sentimental
about summer.
i use to
wish
that
summer
would
never end.
laying on the beach
and
curling sand
between
my toes
and
the pads
of my feet.
summer was
freedom.
eating strawberries
on the cliffs
over-looking the sea
and tossing the
little green tops
over
the
edge.
watching
hang gliders
windshield-wiper
the sky.
chocolate
covered
soft serve
ice cream
from
foster freeze
melting
all over
my hands.
i long to
lay in the sun
with nothing
to do.
summers
are so different
for me now.
they are
the time
of year
i work
the hardest.
i look forward
to summer's
end.
maybe
someday
i can sit
by the sea
with
my kid(s)
and
eat
one of those
a foster
freeze
cones
again.
xo
