So Now What?

It’s been awhile.  I have lost track of how many times I have started this post.  I’ve been waiting until I could write something a little more upbeat and humorous than my last entry when we lost our Parker Boy.  Not sure if today is the day.  Oh well…..we’ll see where this goes.

It’s going on two months without the pup, and in many ways it’s gotten easier, but he’s on my mind all….the….time.   I feel like I should be getting over the worst of it by now, but some days are still pretty miserable.  Everything about our lives here in France revolved around the pup.   Every inch of this house holds a memory of him – all of his favorite napping places, smudge marks from where he would push doors open with his pink nose, the attic that fascinated him – where he could climb the ladder-like steps and poke his nosy head in every cobwebby nook.   The yard – forget it – I can hardly go out there.  That  was his mini-kingdom.   The newly blooming wisteria just reminds me of the magnificent photos of him from last year.  There is still fur imbedded in the old stone bench from when I brushed him on his last day.  There are scratch marks from his nails on the ancient stone walk where he would get up and stretch or when he’d gain traction to take off to scold a passing dog or cat. It blows my mind that the walkway that has stood for a thousand years now has the marks of my dog to add to its long history.   It feels so alive and enduring, yet the boy is gone. 

I still hate 5:00pm – dinner time. It’s ok if I’m busy, but if I notice the time, my heart sinks. Coming home is still tough – no welcome home fanfare and squeaks of excitement. I can’t think of one good reason to take a walk down by the river or through the farmland to see the cows, or through the woods, and definitely not near the trails of “Parker’s Loop”.  Walks are for people with dogs and I don’t have a dog. 

Spring has sprung, new life is blooming all around.  It is truly magnificent.  The deep green fields, the flowering trees, the sheep dotting the hillsides……breathtaking.  But what had brought me such joy and wonder over the last three years is now just reminding me that time is passing, a new season is starting and our boy is not here.  He loved to lie on the terrace in the warm sun and run under the walnut trees and nibble on the fresh long green grass.  He should be here now, protecting us from the cats across the street – coincidentally both named “Little Fucker”.  I talk to him all the time, like some crazy person.  I pat the top of the container with his ashes and tell him it’s stupid that he’s in there….it doesn’t make any sense.  As I’m writing this, I’m sitting in my yoga room next to his unwashed blanket, happy to see there’s still dog hair lingering.   I’m a weirdo, I know. 

Our tight little family of three is now just us two humans.  We are missing the simple joy and whimsy of having a dog. Our house feels subdued and lifeless.  I am a dedicated, over the top dog owner without a dog.   Some say that getting a new dog is the cure to heal a broken heart, but I am so not ready.  My Parker was a unique soul, one in a million (I know I’m biased).  He was an unusually gorgeous specimen with the most lush, soft fur – like a rabbit.  He was scary smart, learned commands in minutes, figured things out on his own, but had no use for frivolous tricks.  He understood so many words and could also read our minds. His hyper-vigilance caused him to be both neurotic and curious.  He could be a jackass, had little use for other dogs, he had weird fears and quirks.  He whined and grumbled and talked all the time.  He really knew how to communicate and command us to do his bidding.  He loved Christmas and opening to presents.  He smelled delicious. He was demanding, loving, silly and  sweet. He was spoiled and over indulged but very obedient.  He was so loved.

Our third musketeer isn’t here anymore and I don’t know what we’re supposed to do next.  Parker was our anchor here in France.  He loved it here and seeing him happy, content and confident here was one of the main reasons we stayed.  The journey here was particularly difficult for him.  Traveling back to the States with him seemed nearly impossible and I couldn’t imagine doing that to him again.  I’ll be honest, sometimes I felt trapped here – not resentful of Parker – never, ever – but resentful of the situation – the situation of my creation.  But now with him gone, I’d live in van down by the river just to have him back by my side.  Oy vey. 

My intention when I started this blog was to tell the story of our journey and our life here in France.  But now that Parker is gone, it seems pointless and foolish to continue looking back when he was such a big part of the story.  In fact, being able to bring Parker with us was THE deciding factor in coming to France in the first place. Maybe I’ll get back to that later…..we’ll see.  I’m not really sure what direction to take this blog.  I’m not really sure what it is anymore, or what it ever was, really.  Certainly not a blog for travel tips or a “how to” guide to international relocation, right?  More so just a place for me to purge my thoughts.

Often times, I imagined I’d be writing about France from the rear view;  my story of “The France Years”, after the fact, after I got back to my normal life, my real life.  But, I’m still here.  This is my real life, my life as it is now.  My relationship with France, as the cool kids say, is complicated.  On the list of pros and cons, the list of pros is very long.  We are, indeed, living a life of privilege and leisure….a dream come true, right?  It definitely should be. 

I’ll stop here for now.  I’m going to share more about life here in France.  I’ve been wanting to write about the friends we’ve made, the animals we’ve met, places we’ve been, experiences we’ve had.  I want to write about the good things since I’ve spent plenty of time wallowing in grief and sadness.  I’m sure Parker will still be prominent in my writing – he’s been part of it all.  Eventually I want to write about his whole life – it may be just for me since I’m the one who will want to steep in all of the memories.  He definitely had an extraordinary life.  My weird and fearful dog with very tough start to a very charmed and adventurous life….Marley’s got nuthin’ on him.  

Lots of love to you.

❤️ Lisa