In between the French and the English words are smiles and laughs, gestures and drawings. We share snippets of our lives with those we may only see again in our photos and memories.
Usually the one to hide behind someone who knows the language, I am forced out in front. At each shared meal I initiate introductions. And then I stay in the common area to speak with the French and the Fins and the Norwegians, the Swiss and the Germans. Charlie, are you surprised? How about you Laura?
In Duford we shared a gite with three French. It was the most difficult place to stay as there was a ladder to the loft where mattresses were on the floor and the ceiling so low we couldn't stand up. It was a terrific physical challenge. Yet, it was a fun night of speaking between the words. After we found out that everyone was retired and what their careers had been....this was at least an hour, the French wanted to know about Parkinson's disease and how I dealt with it. Between the words, I shared my message of hope so that they may carry it on to their friends who may have the disease.
Between the words of languages we do not share, is love. Patricia showed me that love upon my first arrival in Montuq. She showed that its not the words, but the between...
She called ahead to Ultriea and left this msg. Don't worry, be happy, like snoopy.
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