A physicist might call it inflationary. It germinated for almost 25 years and then sprang forth in the final weeks. Two to be exact. A unity in adversity. Three uniting as one. It was their mother’s final wish. She worked on it sporadically for 25 years. I tried to infuse impetus in the final few months. Nothing. A little. Nothing, nothing, nothing, a touch, a tad, nothing. And then it was there, full blown. Two brothers and a sister: a team. They united for a future. They allowed their mother to go in peace. But, as she knew, they needed a fourth. She would be gone. They can’t have, don’t need, and certainly don’t want a foreign father, especially when they shakily share a French one. An uncle, wise in the practicalities of France, a necessity. The best fourth she could muster.

Of course they hurt. It was their mum, their mummy, their only mother for all their life – and a very special one at that. They couldn’t know how protected they were, because it still hurt. If you have never known real pain the first pang is an awesome thing. And she insisted they live their lives as normally as possible right up to very near the end. It was her last gift. Still she worried about their mettle. The youth of France lead a very, very sheltered life; through their teens, through their twenties, sometimes deep into their thirties. Cradle to grave is sometimes literal in France.

To be sure she was concerned about the modes and mores of current France. She and we, both of us, preferred straight talk and substance to the meandering locutions that signify almost nothing today. Talk is worth a tuppence over here, and overpriced at that. Still, we older folks always worry too much. Things usually tend to work out. Another 25 years and Bang! Presto!! Then they understand – a new generation takes over! And, finally, we get the respect we are due today.

07/07/2008 / May 31, 2008 – The Three that is Four / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 724, © 2008 / CIP May 31 / SHE

Thrice now I have built a world. Once in the hell-hole of America that is Los Angeles. It was an inauspicious beginning, but it built the only thing that still endures. My primary family – it has splintered, but still strongly endures. I rebuilt my world once in the mountains of the Sierra Nevada. It was a very good milieu for me. When I left that universe I was sure my third incarnation would be my last. I knew, or thought I knew, I would be the one to die first. It didn’t happen. She did.

In the immediate aftermath, I envisaged just retiring upstairs, with occasional visits down and out. Mostly I could just wait amongst things familiar, two floors up from where I had known true happiness. I had hoped I could simply watch the starlings cavort in the cool of the evening over the Paris skyline. Gradually though, the language, culture and generation differences proved too much. I found that, without Minou, I did not fit. Without Minou I couldn’t fit in Paris, nor in France, nor in this family. She was the fulcrum that made those three circles possible.

Now her children must build three separate but intertwined spheres. She did everything she could to build the individual bases. She worked hard to unite them as a unit. Just towards the very end she saw real success, and she rested. She was, she is, and she will be proud of her children. Each time they hear an echo of her words and are guided by them she will be proud. Each time they act as a united whole, she will be pleased. More than that – every time they strike out bravely on their own she will be delighted. She loved life, she loved freedom and she loved individuality – all within the supporting matrix of a unit. That is all she wants for each of you.

Perhaps one last thread connects us all. The game still holds some promise and allows for the small possibility of fulfilling one of your mother’s and my last hopes. I believe that in the beginning she worked on the game for us - a joint project that could build her and I as a unit, and it even had some real potential. In Colorado she worked on the game to support me and my dreams. In Paris she began to work on the game again because she saw some family potential, but in the end I think she saw it mostly an avenue for Eve. I believe Albert and you boys owe it to your mother & Eve to leave room for that. Allow her, if she wishes, to seize the ball and run.

As for me, time will tell – for certain I am super glad that I went on the journey with your mom. Threads have a funny way of circling back and encompassing worlds. Maybe in the end we will all learn to honor and respect each other – despite the differences in language, culture and generation. Let’s drink a toast, French wine of course, to three new worlds, and a fourth.

07/07/2008 / June 5, 2008 – Building Worlds / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 726, © 2008 / CIP, July 7 / SHE

It’s smaller now but it has become a badge of honor. It was angry and black, and almost all encompassing the first time I noticed it. I don’t know when I got it. One day, very near the end, it was just there. I saw it some days later. Perhaps ¾, maybe more, of the big toe nail. Black, pulsing, horrid! I remember one day, three or four days before the end, when she fell again. I had caught her a hundred times before, but this time just barely, and she bumped horribly. That is an ugly, ugly day when you are not strong enough to fully support the woman you love. To catch her, and hold her, and protect her as you are meant to do. To save her. Maybe it was that day. I don’t know. It is still there. 3 ½ months later, it’s smaller, maybe a third of the nail now. A badge of honor to trying. She tried so hard she deserved the world she left.

07/07/2008 / June 5, 2008 – The Black Toe / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 727, © 2008 / CIP, July 7 / SHE

Could I paint a picture of her? No, the hues wouldn’t be bright enough. The foreground deep enough. The lines distinct with clarity of purpose, the shadows playful with a tinge of humor. No, I will take the photos. Rembrandt couldn’t do her justice, and I couldn’t do her at all. But the camera caught some of her facets exquisitely. Axel did it once. I was lucky once or twice. Karen the most consistent. Minou’s mirror reflections frequently worked. She often also did superbly with simple shadows. I may have a thousand, certainly hundreds I love – now they are my treasures, all that is left – except the memories they invoke. Thank you my Love for the thousand photos that launch me, and allow me to “slip the surly bonds of earth.”

07/07/2008 / June 6, 2008 – The Pictures / Minou / Mixed/ AFW, 728, © 2008 / CIP, July 7 / SHE

Let’s flash back about six or seven hours, because that is the official beginning. That is when I left. Decamped, abandoned, fled from our apartment building. Minutes after the ambulance left, I left . It was somewhere between 9:00 and 10:00 AM; the ambulance was scheduled for 9:00. The hearse, for indeed it was a hearse, though it was called an ambulance, left from the 6th floor, I left from the 8th. No one saw me leave. No one yet knew I was gone. It was the beginning of the end.

For clarity I suppose we have to go back to the day before, actually the year before to even begin to comprehend the next 30 hours. I lived the lifetime and still don’t really understand it. In the previous year we had had many recurrent conversations. One of the most frequent started out: “If you ever leave me, I will die.” Literally I had heard those words, or some variation, 50 or 60 times, maybe more. I believed her. It was one very good reason for never leaving. Another was I loved her – deeply, deeply loved her.

In the early days there was raw panic in her voice. Just as I could feel the dread when she clutched my hand and held so tight whenever we ventured out, even just across the street. Gradually the terror subsided. The full realization that I was not going to abandon her seeped in. Now the voice was less insistent, somehow calmer. Still, late at night when we snuggled just before sleeping, when I always rocked her, she would occasionally repeat the phrase. “I will die if you ever leave.” By now I knew it was true. And yet I left. A half hour after she left, I left. Six or seven hours later I was shivering.

The preceding day was about as tough a day as I had ever known. For the past 30 plus years I had always said the day I lost my kids was the worst day of my life (lost them to their mother, not to death). This day was worse. It was building for six weeks, perhaps 6 months, even 16, but since the first of the year the truly ominous signs were multiplying virulently – almost like a cancer.

07/07/2008 / February 22, 2008 / Thirty Something Hours (2) / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 725, © 2008 / CIP, July 7 / SHE

I saw a hummingbird today – or did I? I think my sweetheart was talking to me. I think she said “of course I had to go to the Antilles with the kids, but I’m back with you now”. Later Adrien and I looked again at the pictures, it wasn’t there. A different bird looking in a different direction was – but not my Happy Hummingbird. I think she changed the picture in my mind just for me. She spoke to me.

We were all there. Adrien, Eve, Jerome and Sophie, Florence, Karen and Albert. Lunch had been great, Versailles cold, but the atmosphere warm, and we were all now gathered around to see the pictures for the first time from the Antilles. There were a bunch, I don’t know how many, but a bunch. I thought it was the third or fourth frame that caught my eye. A hummingbird floating there drinking the nectar as they often do. Quickly it was gone. The following frames tumbling in succession. Very quickly. There were a lot of them. They were a mélange, but happy and good. Six souls on a gorgeous island. Half way through the presentation I said, quite loudly actually, “I want a print of that hummingbird, I want a print for sure”. It had made a strong impression on me.

Later, in the car on the way home, I said to Adrien again I would like a picture of that hummingbird. He had his laptop with him, so we looked again through the pictures. It wasn’t the third or fourth, but perhaps around the seventh. There had been many pictures of birds later on, but only one was in the beginning. I knew it was the trigger, but it wasn’t the picture. This bird was looking left and sitting amongst foliage. It was a beautiful bird, but not my gorgeous hummingbird. She had been looking right, floating on air, sipping the sweetness of life.

01/06/2008 / April 13, 2008 – A Happy Hummingbird / Minou / Mixed / AFW, 719, © 2008 / CIP, June 1 / SHE

March, April, May – not your usual quarter, but it is a quarterless world. No quarter given, none received. Still it seems, finally some progress. After the real first quarter disaster, and April only slightly better May looks good. Today was actually better than good. Stephane called from China, just to be kind. Béatrice had Minou’s pillow repaired – a super blessing almost beyond measure. Tonight dinner at Oresto’s. Things are looking up. Of course there was nowhere to go but up! Acceptance helps. And the kids are treating me better. Should I wonder why? Can I trust the thaw? I am going to be optimistic. It has usually worked for me – at least till February 23rd. And it gave Minou a pretty good 2007 – which, realistically, was much more than what we could have asked for. So OPTIMISM it is!!

01/06/2008 / May 29, 2008 – End of The Quarter / Minou /Mixed / AFW, 721, © 2008 / CIP, June 1 / SHE

When you actually take stock there is much to be thankful for. Many people have been kind, and some exceptionally so. Minou is my heroine, but Christine is her sister. Without her my Minou would have lost much of the joy in her life. A tad over 24 years actually. Without her, in the last 24 hours, her Domi couldn’t have slept peacefully. Without her in the following 24 days, I am not at all sure I could have survived. For the next few eternities we will both be grateful to Christine. When Minou and I hold hands again, and that day will come, we will toast the best friend we ever had. And then we will wait patiently to hold her hand again. For sure, that day too will come, but we will hope not for a long, long time. Love is patient.

01/06/2008 / May 30, 2008 – Off the Scale / Minou /Mixed / AFW, 722, © 2008 / CIP, June 1 / SHE

Of course there were other kindnesses, both before and after. Certainly Antoine and Karen leap to mind – a brother and a sister, though not of each other. There were two Guillaume’s, one amazing for his age, but actually quite exceptional for any age; the other Italian, with, excluding mine, the most exceptional wife in the world. Two Laurence’s – unconnected except that they both loved Minou, they actually even called her by different names. A Stephane for me and a Veronique for her, and an unconnected Stephanie. From across the great divide a superb first family and a surprising number of friends. All these and a hundred more should be named, a thousand more considered. They cannot be thanked adequately, but they were all rewarded, because they knew Minou.

01/06/2008 / May 31, 2008 – Other Kindnesses / Minou /Mixed / AFW, 723, © 2008 / CIP, June 1 / SHE

It wasn’t cold yet but I was shivering. There on a secluded section on the banks of the Seine – shivering quite strongly now. The barges plying their trade, ignoring me. I didn’t know it then, but in about twelve hours my wife would be dead. I did know it was imminent. A couple of days perhaps, three or four at most. The shaking had started. Violent shaking now. It is a long story. This part lasted, give or take, only thirty hours. The whole tale lasted two lifetimes. It should have ended 12 hours from now. It was, and will be continued.

01/06/2008 / February 22, 2008 / Thirty Something Hours / Minou /Mixed / AFW, 718, © 2008 / CIP, June 1 / SHE