Eleven Days

Zara blazer (similar)
Zara dress (similar)
Dune London mules
Chanel handbag
Zara sunglasses (similar)
Linjer rings (c/o) (similar)
Maris Pearl Co. earrings (similar)
Location: Palais Royal – Paris, France

Paris, October 11, 2021

Dear friends,

It seems hard to believe that this is the last letter from Paris that I’ll share this year. It’s Thanksgiving day in North America this morning, another day we rise to greet darkness over Paris and make our to the Palais Royal just as the sun begins to rise. Morning is my favourite time of day, especially in this city. As dawn breaks, most locals are still at home, dawdling over their cafe and croissant. Work days don’t start until 10 am here, sometimes later, so it only makes sense. That means that if we stick to our usual Canadian schedule, we can have parts of Paris, even busy ones, almost to ourselves for a few hours. The feeling of walking alone, with only history to accompany you, is one I never tire of.

This morning, the world, and life, feel new. We’re settling into a very different pandemic life than the one we’ve lived for the past two years, one governed by mutual trust and collective responsibility rather than fear mongering and threats. I feel safer here, even though I wear my mask less and go out more. I feel that way because expectations are clear: we are responsible to make our own choices and we will be required to live with the consequences. That means I can trust, to some degree, that everyone around me is considering the actions they take, rather than blindly following what they believe they’ve been told to do, or alternatively, disregarding instruction entirely.

It’s a beautiful morning. We snap our photos, wander the garden and then stop for coffee at the Cafe de la Comedie. I’m still so careful, washing or sanitizing my hands every time I touch anything new. But there is a freedom in personal responsibility that I embrace wholeheartedly – and know I will miss when we’re home again.

Looking back on this Parisian morning, just eleven days from the end of another year, I can’t help thinking how right I was. I started 2021 with cautious optimism. Apart from the ten days we spent in Paris, it mostly disappointed me. But until recently, things seemed to be looking up. Now, with eleven days left until we wake up in 2022, we are staring down a new wave of infections and the threat of further lockdowns. It isn’t anyone’s fault. And no approach to pandemic management, even those that credit people with intelligence and critical thinking skills, would likely have changed it. But we have only eleven more chances to make this year memorable. The day we took these photos, that felt possible – now that I’m writing this, though, it feels like the possibility is quickly slipping from my grasp.

If nothing else, I’m glad we got to make these Parisian memories this year. Even if the holiday season is, once again, not what it might have been. Even if another lockdown awaits. I’m glad I took the chances I could take while they were still available. And I hope for more chances, more memorable moments amid the chaos, for us all next year.

In the meantime, I plan to make these last eleven days count, however I can. I wish you all the chance to do the same. Happy holidays!

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