In honor of St. Valentine, this seems like the perfect day to give up one of my long-held romantic fantasies.
I will now give up my dream of someday marrying a Frenchman and moving to France.
I know, I know what you're thinking...why give up on your fantasy when you're in the prime of your life? Well, my 20-year (now 23-year) marriage looks like it may take, after all.
And, although Earl has said he's willing to make concessions if he can move to France too, maybe as a gardener or cabana boy, I think I should simply put this dream to rest.
Why, you may ask, did I not act on this dream before I married a boy from Ohio?
Well, after my stint in France, I wasn't actually intent on living there. I came home and made plans to go to grad school. I dated the New Zealander. I studied in Washington, DC and visited the French embassy only once. I fought for an internship in United Arab Emirates. The world was my oyster and I could have nestled anywhere. I did not, at that time, have my heart set on France.
Now I've visited France nine times and when I come home, I long for the lifestyle of France -- not just the food.
So, I have informed my daughter that if she wants to live abroad, the easiest way is to fall in love with a man who lives in that country.
I'll find some other path, and take my husband along with me.
I wouldn't enjoy it without him anyway.
Photo from http://www.timoelliott.com/personal/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/heart.jpg
.jpg)