25 Years of Friendship
What my mom and my French mom’s LDR taught me.
By Sam Starks, Creative Director
There is a sweet smell of fresh pain au chocolat dancing its way through the thick, humid air reaching out to lure her to the la pȃtisserie down the corridor. It almost stops her in her tracks and redirects her, but she’s already lost on her second day in Paris and she’s determined to learn the arrondissements like a local.
This was my mom, when she was 22 years old, a fresh college graduate. She took a leap of faith across the pond and was an au pair in Paris. If I were in her shoes, the only place I would’ve known was the la pȃtisserie down the corridor, but she knew better and found herself standing at a church to get her bearings.
When unfolding her map, a lady with thick-rimmed glasses and the sweetest pursed lips came up to her. My mom was the luckiest American that day.
This is a love letter to my mom, to my French mom Christine, and to their 25-year friendship that never should’ve happened but made long-distance relationships seem magical.
Here are 25 things I learned from their friendship:
If your future husband asks you out right before you move out of the country and you say no, say no. Because dancing like you’re 22 in Paris is better than dancing like you’re 22 in Minneapolis.
Always say you’re from Alaska because even the French don’t associate it as part of America. This will make you seem less “Emily in Paris.”
The 80-year-old couple in their little Parisian apartment upstairs will ask you if you know the Alaskan politician Sarah Palin and if she really can see Russia from her house.
Eating Chinese food in France probably will require you to bring some extra soy sauce, sriracha and garlic.
When someone asks you a question and you’re indecisive, just respond “if you want” with a little shoulder shrug. It really embodies the Pariasian flâneur.
Take dinner at 9 p.m.
Drink lots of wine until then.
Always eat the cheese they give you.
Two goats standing on top of each other on top of a cow to eat off a tree is the only countryside anyone should look forward to driving through. Sorry Midwest farmland, you will never compare.
There will be two types of people on the flight over: the younger sibling up for 14 hours straight, glued to the TV screen or the older sibling sprawled across the entire row in a deep snore.
Surprise Christine and Peter by telling them you’d prefer to go to Giverny to see Claude Monet’s house over going to Disneyland Paris when you’re 12 years old.
You will be a strong believer that a franske hot dog tastes better sitting by lily pads than by a castle (which isn’t even real)!
Your parents will dress you and your sister in matching pink raincoats so they don’t lose you to the masses of walkers and motorists.
Nothing beats a French breakfast.
When a geographer and a pianist meet, second chances at love are at full force residing in a small home on a small island south of France.
Maybe, 20 years later you’ll be invited to be the Maid of Honor to your best Parisian friend on that little island of Corsica. Also, bring your 16-year-old daughter with you.
The French hairstylist will put 20 bobby pins in your hair but when his name is Froufrou, you let Froufrou do it.
A small island wedding really is like “Mamma Mia.” The whole island dances under the lights in a small courtyard outside a church. The sound of glasses filled to the brim with champagne and strawberries. The feeling of family flows through the guests and the music.
There will be little girls dressed in sequins and feathers mesmerized with the newly wedded couple.
They will also play Lizzo. They will know the lyrics better than you.
All you need in a crêpe is lemon juice and sugar.
Not everything will be picture-perfect. The scaffolding will be interlaced with escalators filled with people. It will remind you of a hamster tunnel, fitting for a city of two million people.
Christine and Peter will come to America for the first time for your sister’s wedding.
They will buy your parents an espresso machine for a housewarming gift and take you to your first day of college at the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
Christine will love you like her own daughter and will believe in whatever you decide to do. You will be excited to share your future with her but sometimes goodbye is earlier than you could foresee.
These are the 25 things I will always cherish with me. My French hasn't gotten better but my love for my mom, Christine and their companionship has no language barrier.
I love you, Madame Christine Valery.