Death

I don’t have a car at my disposal during my short stay this month. When I have a car, I race into town the first morning I’m here, and gobble down the first perfect croissant of my visit. But on Wednesday, not having a car, and feeling too lethargic from my jet lag to walk or bike into town, I asked the caretaker to pick up some bread for me. I guess she didn’t understand my directions to go to my preferred bakery, because she brought me back some walnut bread that wasn’t as good as the walnut bread from my bakery.

Three days of French bakery deprivation were taking their toll on me, and so I headed into town today, on foot – a ten kilometer round trip. The weather was cool, about 40F, sunny and beautiful. I discovered a new “shortcut” to town, a steep uphill trek through woods that probably cuts off 150 meters of the walk. It doesn’t make the trip that much easier but it’s pretty, and I avoid the traffic from the “big” road, which isn’t very big, but I still like to get as far away from cars as I can . . . to walk through the woods and vineyards and imagine that I’m not in Modern France, that I’m in romantic France . . . where all the people walk quaint trails with sheep trailing behind them and supermarche’s don’t exist.

At the bakery, I purchased my walnut bread (my husband will be jealous) and a croissant. At the patisserie, I purchased an apple tartlet Alsatian and then, thinking that maybe I wouldn’t be walking back into town for a few days, I purchased a chocolate-pear tartlet for good measure, thinking I’d eat it tomorrow.

On the way back home, I thought about sitting on the side of the trail and eating my croissant, but I had the fortitude to wait until I arrived back at the house. It was delicious. There is nothing as heavenly as a really good croissant -- experiencing the pleasure of your teeth biting through that crispy buttery crust, then slowly sinking into that moist flaky inner cloud of pastry.

After eating the croissant, it was my intention to make myself a healthy sandwich of walnut bread, tomatoes, and cucumbers, but I ditched the idea and opted to devour the apple tartlet instead. For dinner I ate the chocolate-pear tartlet and my favorite local combo, walnuts, Papillon Roquefort, and raisins. Today I’m on the high-fat, high-pleasure regimen and I have no regrets.

Life’s too short not to eat good croissants and indulge yourself at French bakeries . . . life is too short to live anywhere other than France where food is a high art and wine made by your neighbor is served at lunch.

My husband has been spending the week with his very ill father. Bill had a heart attack and stroke. He’s ninety-one, so any health issues at this time are life and death. He was mentally robust and enjoyed great health up until two weeks ago, so it’s extremely sad and frustrating for us, and for him, to see him incapacitated, unable to easily communicate or take care of himself. It is very difficult for my husband to watch the only authority figure he has every respected start to fade away.

We all begin at the same starting line and we all crawl across the same finish line. The only thing that matters between those two points is: did you find LOVE in life? I’m not talking about the grand, romantic, mythic soul mate who supposedly fulfills all your needs and fantasies. I’m asking, have you discovered what unconditional love is yet?

This evening, I received a message from my friend Laurie. Her friend of several decades died in a tragic boating accident. He was young and healthy and handsome one minute, and then the next minute, he’s crossing the finish line. Do you see how we don’t have control over our lives? You’re a healthy guy in your forties and poof, you’re gone. You’re a healthy ninety-one-year-old man, and poof, your body just won’t work any more. You’re my beautiful, homecoming queen sixteen-year-old best friend and cancer kills you before you can graduate from high school.

It doesn’t matter if you’re sixteen, forty, or ninety, life is too damn short and if you want to find unconditional love you better start searching . . . this minute … in earnest. Because when you reach the finish line that is the only thing you will regret not finding. Unconditional love. As you lay dying, you’re not going to be regretting that you didn’t work more hours, make more money, that you needed to be slimmer, or that you should have gotten a face life. No you’ll only regret not having experienced unconditional love.