We’ll Always Have Paris

I dreamt of
the Eiffel Tower
last night.

I will always
see you above me
half turned back to
give me your hand.

I was halfway
through high school.

The last thing
that I needed
was my nanny
helping me
up the stairs.

I was petulant
and childish
that day.

I didn’t yet know
all the moments
I would miss by
getting in my
own way.

So I turned away.

I made it
all the way
to the staircase
that led up to
the very top
of the Eiffel Tower.

You reached out
your hand and I
turned away.
Paris is where the road ends for me, in a lot of ways. I got to spend the better part of one whole day there, the first time I went to Europe. My best friend/former babysitter insisted we go all the way to the top because “You’re father will be mad if we don’t.” I was annoyed I had to waste such precious time, when going up to the first level would have been more than enough to satisfy me, and I could have explored more of the City.

She took the stairs up to the tippy top of the tower, and I didn’t go. Now, I have every intention of getting back to Paris in my lifetime. (She’s 83 now, not sure she could get all the way up there – but god knows she’d try!) So I still believe there is hope for me, to get there and to make it up to her.

Here’s to a woman who loves you like her own child, sees past all of your faults, and forgives you for being you, when you need it most.


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