Illustration by Elf-Moondance
To My DAD
My Dad passed away quite a while ago now. I believe my Parents have been reunited in the afterlife, which makes me very happy for them to assume this.
In his life, he got more vehicles, some that I was told about, others that I saw in pictures. This said, I am going to only talk about what I can remember he got since I was born. Living in Paris, plenty of people do not have a car, since obviously, we do not really need a vehicle in a city with so many bus lines, underground stations, and such. When we were traveling during the full month of August, we did it by train and at times bus as well. I recall two cars, one large navy blue when I was a child, and we went for a long trip of like 12 hours to reach the south of France. When I was 16 or so, another big car, grey metalized. I think both cars were Japanese cars. The first car was parked most of the time, but the grey one was used more. It was at different periods of time, and since we had moved, the second car was more needed, although we still had a lot of transportation choices. When I was younger, my Dad also drove a light grey truck, not very big, and I was totally crazy about it. Several years before to become a minimalist, I actually bought a larger die cast of it. It was such a treat for me to go with my Dad in this truck. It was an old model, probably from the 1960’s, way before my time on Earth. I love the old time, a lot of items from the past, that I have not known when they were popular, back then. It was noisy to be in this or any of his three trucks though, since the Parisian traffic can be terrible, the reason why many individuals are not willing to deal with possessing a vehicle. This truck was no longer in good use, and was replaced by the truck number 2 that I have known. It was a much spacier truck, a kind of electric blue. When it had a bad issue, it was switched for the almost exact same truck number 3. The color was just very close to the other one, and it was just an updated model. Although they were more secured with a seat belt for the passengers, I think there was space for two of us, besides the driver seat, I always missed the grey truck. When I mentioned space for two, actually was more like one and a half person, since only one spot, but a nice spacious one. The second truck did not stay long in our life, but the third did. Good quality trucks, the three of them. The two last must have been when I was a teenager. Still, it was such a pleasure to be the passenger of those trucks. I love it so much, going all around Paris. Did I ever tell you how much I LOVE MY PARIS yet!?! (Smiling…)
Since I was little, but more as a teenager, my Dad and I were walking to make some shopping together, that must be at the time we had no cars, and he only used his trucks on week days. We enjoyed going together. It was a good distance to walk, but Parisians are used to it with all our beautiful boulevards, avenues, streets, and so forth.
After I moved out as a young woman, we followed to go to some places together. One day, we were next to the Arc of Triump (l’Arc de Triomphe), when I saw a man leaving a shop who just looked like a popular singer. I told my Dad, and he recognized him too. I said let’s go to talk to him. My Dad looked at me, and responded that I was going to talk to someone so known, that I even did not know. I started walking towards the celebrity, and he was just like he is on TV, someone very kind. This singer is Gérard Lenorman. We regretted not to have asked him for his autograph though or a picture. But it was a great experience to be able to talk, we the little, with someone so simple in spite of his success. Bravo to Mister Gérard Lenorman!!! Shortly after, my Dad offered me two cds of this singer. Not that long after, I shifted to the US, and anytime my Dad was seeing this singer on the French TV, he was telling me on the phone.
During some winter vacation we took, my Parents and I when I still was a teen, coming back from an evening event or our supper, it was very sliding on the way to go back to our cabin. It was a little vacation village with a multitude of similar cabins. I started to lose my balance walking on ice that I had not spotted. My Dad seeing that I was going to fall tried to help me, and if I remember correctly, I have not fell down, but he did fall on his buttocks!!! Hihihihihihi!!! We all laughed, but we knew it was dangerous to fall on ice though, because he could have hurt himself bad. The year after, we went back, same situation arised, what was wrong with me not keeping my balance straight on the ice!?! LOL This time, he did not fell. I am unsure I did or not, but it was some crazy situation I always was in, not sure why, since I was/am not that clumsy!!!
At some points, my Dad taught me how to tight a tie, since I occasionally wore one from my teen’s.
When I was 14, we had recently moved in an apartment that had a larger balcony. My Dad and I liked standing and watching the traffic from this balcony. He had started to teach me the automobiles’ brands, mainly cars, and a few motorcycles… & maybe some trucks. Don’t ask me, I do not recall anything about these specific cars, however I remember the apartment pretty well, the street and balcony. From that day, I lost interest in standing at the balcony, and learning about the vehicles altogether. I only focused on a specific group of vehicles when I was older, the same one I still appreciate a lot. So, we were at the balcony, we saw this truck and this motorcycle, even mentioned about them. In the space of seconds, this motorcycle had been hit by this truck. The man on the ground. I have never known whether or not he had passed on though. If he has not, he was certainly in a very critical emergency situation.
In our apartment we were previously since I was a baby, probably when I was 13 of age, my Dad asked me to pick up something in his bedside table’s drawer, which I did. Oh my goodness, you would never think what I spotted in it!!! He had a very old comb holder. It was brown, handmade, and torn apart on some parts. I told him why do you keep something in this condition. He replied to me that I made this for him at school when I was at kindergarten, probably was 4 or 5 years old. I knew this fact, because I remember I had made it, still that was something to discover my Dad had followed to use this all of these years. He was bringing it in his pocket each and every work day, and I was even not aware of it!!! That was an excellent memory though!!! So, after this apartment I loved so much, we moved to the smaller one with the balcony. As a teen, I went to study far away from my Parents for a couple of years, so I stayed over a year in this apartment. When I returned from my study, my Parents had moved to a bigger apartment, and I moved in back with them, was still a minor. Once, in this apartment, I think this comb holder was not able to fix, and if I remember correctly, I believe I am the one who offered my Dad a new one for whatever of the three (either for his Father’s Day, his birthday, or Christmas). I cannot recall this detail. I do not think my Dad throw his old comb holder though, but it retired in his drawer. I think to remember it was another bedside table though.
When my late Husband (just very long-distance relationship then, not yet married) came to visit me from the US to Paris, France, he only could stay for a few days, because of his job. I had the intention to have him meeting my people, but it did not happen that way, since only few were available. I invited my Dad to come home, so he came. I did not tell him anything about him, until someone pushed my interphone. So I responded. When my Husband-to-be arrived upstairs, I saw a bouquet of flowers for me. That was the perfect trick for my Dad. He still did not know anything that was going on. I invited this man (boyfriend then) to come in without to say anything to my Dad, but pretexting he was a man delivering flowers. My Dad did not say anything, but he must have thought, goodness, his daughter is very friendly letting a stranger in her home, inviting him to join us. A few minutes later, I introduced my boyfriend to my Dad. We stayed home for a while, then we went to a very nice coffee/bar not far from the Champs-Elysees Avenue (l’Avenue des Champs-Élysées in French or also just called Les Champs-Élysées). Needless to say that I did not stop to speak, because both counted on me for the translations. My Dad was only knowing a few words in English, and my boyfriend a few words in French. Nice combination for the full work on me!!! Thus, I spoke for three people, them two, plus myself. It was a good moment for them. To me, I was glad the both of them got along so greatly, but I was grieving my uncaged elderly bunny that just passed away overnight, so it was a little different for me. I had her as a very little baby, and she spent over 8 years with me. She was like a little dog. I should talk about her in my section “Meet my Family” later on.
When I was married, already in this house I am writing in right now, we purchased two mural shelves with glass. I wanted one in honor of my Dad. So, I started painting them both, with different colors and design. The one about my Dad has his name on it, and was representing his profession. Usually, I am not gifted for drawing anything, but only with a model, where I am better. The drawings were not too complicated, but not bad either. I surprised myself, and my Husband liked it too. A part of our dining-room is about my Dad’s with pictures of both my Mom and him. A part of our kitchen was dedicated to my Mom’s from where she grew up. My late Husband was super cool, and was always letting me whatever I wanted to do. I had a rare Husband, again much more difficult to lose such a person…
Have fun with “the club”!!! Not many people will understand that. Kisses to you & Mom, tell my Husband I kiss him and my numerous pets! And thank you for who you notified me about, was a great help!!!
Ta p’tite fille!!!
(Your lil daughter)
Note, I am not little or short, it is just a manner my Dad used to call me, as in a loving manner to express himself. For Parents, even adults, a part of them still see us as their little kid from the past, so he used to tell me “ma p’tite fille” (my lil daughter).
