much love, beth

Not much to say except - I leave in a few hours for the airport (at rush hour - crowded subways, many Canadians to warm me as I journey.) I just read today's Star and am very glad I can leave behind and try to forget briefly about Stephen Harper and his twin Netanyahu, cynical exploitive terror-mongers both. Now I can learn about another country's problems which don't matter so much.

My grandson went skating for the first time today, wish I could have seen that. In meditation this morning, Judy mentioned that perhaps, as we walked the path she was guiding us along, we might be holding someone's hand. And I was, I was holding Eli's hand. How I will miss him and his beloved mother and his wonderful uncle. I've come through a very long whirlwind with my kids, I now realize - so many years as a single mother, years of worry continuing to very recently. Because neither of my kids has chosen anything like a traditional path - steady job, steady relationship, hell no, that's much too conventional.

They are beautiful human beings, loving, kind, generous, loyal and funny. And I can only hope that my staying home with them, impatient, scattered and inconsistent as I was as a mother, has something to do with that. Anna showed me a picture recently of a storytime session at a local drop in; there are ten kids on the floor, surrounded mostly by Filipina nannies, and the one kid riveted on the storyteller is Eli. His mother's patient focus and attention shows so clearly in him. I am so very proud of her.

Her brother Mr Tall, Tattooed and Handsome is blazing his own path - he is in a cocktail making competition at the extremely trendy Drake Hotel next week so is practicing his cocktails. He helped a friend who has just opened a new bar by working there on St. Patrick's Day, in the drunken frenzy, from 11 a.m. till 4 in the morning, and then they discovered a problem with the Visa receipts and stayed till 6 a.m. working it out. I could not be more proud of him either.

So I am the luckiest of women. Paris is the icing, but the cake - no, the bread, the core, the raison d'être - is family.

I need to find my new place in the 14th arrondissement and then find an Orange shop and get something called a clé that will give me the internet before I can chat from France. I'll be in touch.

P.S. As a final going-away present, just got this email from a former student:
This is a quick note from a voice from the past. I have just finished watching the final round of the Canada Reads debates and decided to write you a note to say a heartfelt "Thank You". Today was the first time, ever I believe, that I have not felt like an outsider watching the literary debates around choosing this year's Canada Reads book. I was moved to tears by the thoughtful discussions - on both the books' literary merits and their social relevance, the respectful and yet passionate arguments put forward; and the presenters' pride, without exception, at being Canadian. For today's experience (and many others like it), I am grateful to you and your patient coaching. You were top of my mind today as the show signed off.
Thank you, I'm so glad.
Signing off, b.