My cell phone vibrating alarm clock goes off from underneath my pillow. It's still dark and the sun hasn't risen yet. I tiptoe out of the bedroom and make my way upstairs to the kitchen, trying to be as quite as possible. No one is awake but me. I get my breakfast ready. Normally, in the interest of saving time, I would have just eaten my oatmeal and tea and be done with it. But this was the last morning. So I also take out my aunt's homemade preserves and a slice of their rustic bread, the real butter, the organic milk, and have a little of each. The peach preserves are especially flavorful. I watch the sky out the window as it turns from pitch black to gray. I can already feel the tears choking up inside of me.
I go back downstairs to wake Charles and get ready. I pack the last few things. It's full daylight now and my aunt Suzanne has turned her car around so we can more easily pack it with our luggage. Charles lifts the large ones in. It doesn't fit. We keep rearranging until my aunt finally is able to shut the hatchback. Everything is ready. All that's left is saying goodbye. I have my small snapshooter ready for a few last photos in front of the house. We take turns being in the photos with my aunt and uncle. Finally, I say goodbye to my uncle. I try not to think about the fact that due to his age and certain medical problems, I may never see him again. He is all too aware of this as well. It is understood, yet not spoken. I try to express my gratitude in French to him. But my vocabulary is not so vast.
We climb into my aunt's small car with luggage bursting everywhere and take off down the country road toward the train station at Valance. On the way, we stop in Crest to return the rental car. We thank the man at the garage and ask if we can take our photo with him. Back into my aunt's car. It's a 40 minute ride to the train station. I watch the small towns go by. There's a "traffic jam" due to some construction along the way. It only lasts for a few minutes. My mom has a brief conversation with Suzanne, but otherwise, it's a quiet ride. When we get there, it's cold and windy. We get inside the station and finally must say goodbye to Suzanne. I had practiced in my head how to say what I wanted to say. But even this consisted of merely saying that there were no words to express the deep gratitude in my heart. Suzanne being a hearty soul shed no tears, but still embraced us forcefully.
Our train arrived and we settled in for the 3 hour ride to the airport. I tried to stay awake to watch the last of the French countryside go by, but my lack of sleep was already catching up with me. Still, I was able to see the last of the farm fields and stone houses and impress these final images upon my memory.
Arriving at the airport, we searched for something to eat for lunch. But it seemed there was only a choice of high-end overpriced restaurants or a sandwich stand. So we ate at the sandwich stand only to discover more choices once we passed security on the way to our gate. One note about French airport security versus American: we did not have to remove our shoes, but we did have to display all electronic devices. Strange.
Eight hours after leaving my uncle's house that morning, we finally boarded the plane for our 11 hour, non-stop flight home. I had heard that the food on Air France, especially returning from France, was supposed to be pretty good. However, I had chosen special meals for my mom and I: bland for me and low-sodium for my mom. Apparently, they think that folks who need low-sodium love fish. Unfortunately, my mom doesn't like fish, but due to some mix ups, I got her fish and she was able to get a regular meal. Yes, there was even brie with the meal.
It was a long, long flight back home broken up only by a limited selection of films, solitaire, naps and bathroom breaks. Once we landed and our friend Suzy picked us up, I was suddenly, briefly energized as we told stories all the way home. But the fatigue set in as I was changing into pajamas and just couldn't keep my eyes open any longer.
(Epilogue to follow soon.)
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