The last two weeks have, without question, been the least pleasant weeks that we have spent in France; what we had thought was a well planned exit has degraded into a hasty retreat. Where I had envisioned the ability to visit our favorite places one last time, we have found ourselves overwhelmed and constrained; we barely managed to squeeze in an (abbreviated) holiday meal. Still, we finally seem to have finished, and after this post goes up, I’ll pack my faithful Surface Pro up and stick it in my carry-on in anticipation of our flight back to the States tomorrow morning.
I’ve written several vignettes; an epilogue for the cats (Fezzik can fly), a description of my last day at work, the sadness of our last visit to the Louvre, scattered thoughts about the latest Star Wars (let’s hear it once more for VoSTF); the time for those posts, however, has passed.
Sitting here, I find that I don’t really know what to say; I’ve had a version of a final post in my head since we first approached the end of our original contract. It has changed, as my feelings towards France and my willingness to return to the US has waned, and now that I’m writing it, I don’t know that any of the previous versions address what it is that I would like to say.
I’m happy that we were here (particularly when one considers that the original one year turned into nearly four). I’m sad that we have to go back. I’d like to hope that we can find a way to come back.
Fezzik can fly; I suppose that there is no reason that I can not do so as well.