French Windows Call My Name
Are you as tired of all this hospital foo as I am? Or even more than I am? I’d guess the latter. So, let’s think about something else for a while.
“You just call out my name… Like the windows that continue to call to me wherever I go, and in this case, the mirror that shows the window to the world of Cotignac, without revealing that I was there too, looking in, looking out. That’s a great metaphor for how I feel right now, half in and half out of the world as we knew it, before it became a hospital world. Looking forward, looking back.
And you know wherever I am… Even in Auray with this really cool set of windows, part of an impressive collection of half-timbered houses that speak of history, careful preservation, restoration. They have the life we’d all like to have, long, rich, beautiful, well-preserved, and rescued from the casual extinction that seems to be the hallmark of the human condition.
I’ll come running…and speaking of running, I’ve spent a lot of time recently being glad that I’m not a nurse, although it might be easier than being a window washer in the old part of Vannes. Actually, I think this guy was a plumber, but perhaps he gave the windows a swipe as well, while he was three floors up without any sort of visible safety gear. Mmm, yeah, that too is us, far from having our feet on solid ground, no safety net.
Just to see you again…Of course, these guys in Vannes might also worry that the whole front of a house is going to fall on them before they get a chance to get a really good look at each other, the kind of look that lasts a lifetime.
Winter, spring, summer, or fall…For those whose jobs, or lives, are too stressful, how about this chocolatier in Dinan? Everything you see in this window is made of chocolate, and is advertised as “my stress remedy.”
All you gotta do is call…Although personally, I find that sardines, the “candy of the sea” call to me more than chocolate does. That is, if I were to even admit that putting things in one’s mouth can momentarily relieve stress.
And I’ll be there…Probably a better solution would be to hide behind this lovely window near Avignon, imagining life as it used to be for those who had a chateau to calm their stress, a beautiful place in which to see their loved ones.
Just to see you again…” Not through that window of pain, out of that white sterile world, alive and well and at large on the earth. As you say in French qu’on se le dise: Let it be said! And let it be heard.
All of which goes to show, I guess, that you can take the girl out of the hospital, but you can’t really take the hospital out of the girl. Soon, I promise, soon.