Mom and Me in Paris

Mom and Me in Paris
By Eve Brownstone

Mom said to me “I don’t think we spent this much time together since you were in Kindergarten.” There was a brief wave of fear and nausea in my gut. It could have been the jambon (ham) and fromage (cheese) I just consumed for breakfast. This was our first morning in Paris together for a start of a ten day vacation. Before I left Chicago, a friend said with a smile, you might want to kill your mom 20%, if you don’t come to blows 70% of the time it is a good time. This friend had just spent some quality time in Europe with his daughter and was speaking from experience. I laughed at the time.

During the ten days in Paris, I experienced the magnificent Eiffel Tower, café au lait and exquisite people watching at side walk cafes, the beauty of Versailles the but more importantly, my mom and I got to know each other. It wasn’t all crème Brule and champagne but mom and I kept talking which helped.

Our second night in Paris we were out on a café/ people watching adventure in Bastille Square, home of The French Revolution of 1789(there were others) and my mom and I developed this code word to use to let her know when she was pressing my buttons. The code word was “Le pain”; it means the bread in French. My mom’s code word was to growl. This kept us laughing together for most of the night.

Le pain did come in handy. While out “shopping till we drop” mom encouraged me to be thrifty, which was a good idea, but then persuaded me to buy a red scarf. I am glad she did, but I can be too influenced by my mother when she holds something in front of me saying “Don’t you want this?” I wish I could have said it’s lovely but I don’t really want it. Another “le pain” moment came when we talked about me quitting my job due to burn out.

I spoke from my heart. I told mom that “I feel like I had been living my life for other people. I am tired and burned out from my last job. I’ve been working for other people for almost seventeen years and I want to try to be my own boss.” I am a therapist. Once you’re a therapist you never really stop being one. I told my mom, “I want to be a writer. You know that I have been working on a novel for two years. It is important to me. I want to have time to get it published.”

Mom said,”I hear you but I can’t help worrying about you. I am not going to stop being your mother.” I said, “I am glad that you are my mother and I love you but that there are better uses of your energy than to worry about me. I like it when you ask me how my book is going.” We agreed to continue to talk and learn how to accept each other more. I felt like our talking this stuff out brought us closer.

Mom got to exercise her growling abilities due to my late night snoring habits. Mom and I shared a hotel room. We slept in separate beds but had to be creative about finding a good solution to the problem of both mom and daughter both snore like chainsaws.
“Oh, boy, roll over mom, I’d say.” Mom and I both tried those anti-snore strips that you put on your nose and of course earplugs. One of the best remedies was pure exhaustion.

Mom and I were on the go all day to Le Louvre, Le Musee D’orsay , Le Pompidou or Le Champs-Élysées and most of the night to a Jazz club on Lombard St., Saint Chapell for Shubert and Dvorak, Saint Germain De Pre for a round of extreme people watching and a walk about to try to find where mom lived for a summer in 1956. Mom came to Paris with her mom and little sister, when her mom was on sabbatical from teaching. They could have stayed in Paris for a year but decided to live in London because it rained everyday in Paris.

Mom was glad to be back in Paris. This time the weather was beautiful for eight of our ten days. The rain and cold made a brief appearance cause it could. It rained at Versailles. I traveled to Chateau de Versailles by myself. That was another thing my friend suggested to have alone time. Good idea. The magnificence of the palace and the stunning grounds were breathtaking, I spent the whole day.

I tried to imagine myself at fourteen coming to this enormous palace for the first time as Marie Antoinette. I learned that Louis –Phillip her husband wasn’t much older at fifteen. They didn’t consummate their marriage for four years. Sophia Coppla’s movie Marie Antoinette, which mom and I saw together at a Parisian movie theater, made the young queen seem likeable but very naive. Mom and I were surprised at the empty movie theater. Maybe there were three other people in the theater.

This trip to Paris with my mom was full of learning. Facing my fear of heights at the top of the Eiffel Tower, negotiating how to end the loud snoring coming from the other bed, and understanding better where my mom is coming from were important lessons I learned. I am glad we liked each other at least 70% of the time Mom. Where to next???