I’ve been thinking of Paris a lot these weeks. Along with the rest of the world, I was horrified, saddened and struck in the gut by the Charlie Hebdo terror attacks. Somehow Paris seems like the kind of place that’s immune to such ugly acts.
I’ve also been floored, on a personal note, that it’s been four years since I came home. Six years since I went over. Six years ago, I was packing and preparing to move to Paris. Incredible.
I also saw a House Hunters International episode (ah, the benefits of being at home on maternity leave! Daytime TV!) in which a woman was moving from Maryland to Paris. All the street footage made me pine for a visit, and a peek inside the apartments made me remember my own whirlwind real estate tour.
So while I’m clinging to my last days of maternity leave, and my head and heart are firmly here in Brooklyn, I can’t help but let my spirit drift across the ocean from time to time, to check in with the dream of Paris.