Faire-part
fehr-par
noun, masculine
an announcement (of birth or marriage or death)
This morning I received an email from a longtime reader. Only, on closer look, there was something unusual about the courriel: the sender's full name was repeated in the email's subject line. The last time I received such a letter from a subscriber address it was bad news.
Clicking open the email, I soon learned that the sender was not a reader of my newsletter, but the son of a reader. The email was a faire-part announcing that his mother, Ginny, had passed away.
Ginny…. Like Cher, Madonna, Oprah, or Martha, it took only a prénom for me to recognize her each time her name popped into my inbox. I never hesitated opening her emails, which were full of warmth and self-deprecating humor. How could she be no more?
Caught off guard, I clicked shut the email and sat back to stare at my inbox, where the letter was sandwiched in between dozens of emails labeled "SPAM". Heartless spam! I quickly deleted the intruder messages in order to safeguard this touching nouvelle.
Clicking open the email again, I noticed how the next line of the letter reflected the newly-peeled sentiments inside of me, including sorrow.
The writer was apologetic about the delivery format of his message:
"I'd prefer a more personal way to let you know, but for many of you, this is the only contact information I have…."
I wanted to thank Ginny's son for informing this stranger who, under the circumstances, felt something like a voyeur or an illegitimate mourner. After all, how to explain the relationship that I had with his mother, who was, in effect, a "virtual" acquaintance—someone I had never seen or spoken to in person?
My mind was normally as busy as a hummingbird's wings, and now a new and sorrowful stillness reigned inside: a stranger's grief… my own.
I began to wonder. Had I answered Ginny's last email? I went back over the 61 courriels received from Ginny in the four-and-a-half years since she began responding to my internet column.
She addressed me as her "Chère amie du courrier électronique". Other times, I was "Chère Madame" or "Chère Kristin" or, simply, "Chère amie", to which she added, in her signature humble way, "si l'on ose à le dire" ("if one might be so presumptuous as to say").
I noticed that self-effacing "P.S." that she usually added: "Réponse Pas Nécessaire" ("No Response Necessary", she always insisted, as if to say "you must, or should have other priorities than answering this silly note").
In the dozens of to-the-point emails that Ginny sent, she rarely spoke of herself and, when she did, she mostly poked fun at her persona: "Salut d'une vieille dame de Californie," she once wrote, and I can still remember the smile that it forged across this rigid-while-working face.
I learned that the "vielle dame" was a teacher and "when lucky … taught French." Mostly, Ginny offered encouragement and support. As to my first, practically pasted-together book (which she bought) she wrote: "I hope you sell a jillion of them!"
Whether in French or in English, her signature lines varied, and light-heartedly so, bringing to life one unforgettable character in my inbox: "Ginny 'la bavardeuse'," or "Ginny in the foothills of the Sierra, off Highway 50". By associating a "place" with her name, I could better identify this French Word-A-Day lectrice in an inbox full of unfamiliar names. For me she was "Ginny dans le piédmont…. where we are three inches low in rainfall" and "Ginny in Placerville, just downhill from Lake Tahoe" and, finally, "Ginny en Californie… qui rêve d'un voyage en Norvège cet été."
Ginny, wherever you are, in the piedmont or, finally, up north (yes "up north" I trust…)—YOU ARE MISSED! And while I never knew the color of your hair, the tone of your skin, or the twinkle in your eye—you were indeed a mystery to me—I knew a charming precious lot about "la vieille dame de Californie".
P.S.: Ginny, I wished my own signature line had as much zip, character, and warmth as yours… I'm sure that the teacher in you would be encouraging—so here goes:
Love,
Kristin
"une moitié-vieille dame de Provence qui a beaucoup apprécié votre éloquence électronique"
("a half-old dame in Provence who very much appreciated your electronic eloquence.")
Your Story Edits Here.
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French Vocabulary
le courriel
email
le faire-part
announcement (of birth, marriage, death…)
le prénom
first name
nouvelle
news, update
la bavardeuse (le bavardeur)
the chatty one
la lectrice
reader
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If you’ll forgive my personal editing bias, I most respectfully suggest dropping “that” in the last sentence of the first paragraph, in the second paragraph and in the P.S.
In my own writing I try to clean up my sentences by eliminating unnecessary “thats”.
Adore the story and it’s most definitely wonderful as is.
Amicalement
Ronni
Hello. I think perhaps “As I clicked open the email again,” sounds a bit more clear to me. Blessings, Dianne Vergos
Dear Kristin,
This story is a poignantly beautiful counterpoint to the many light-hearted tales you share with us. It makes one realize that not only do we live on in the memories of those we knew, we can continue to grow. I miss Ginny too and so will all your readers, I’m sure, though we never knew her.
Perhaps that is what we should ultimately aim for in life: to leave fond memories.
Possible edits:
Do you mean: ‘someone I had never seen or spoken to ever?’
instead of ‘someone I had never seen or spoken to before?’?
While ‘self-depreciating’ is correct, it is more usual to use “self-deprecating’.
With kind regards,
Sushil.
Thank you Ronni, Dianne, and Sushil. Ill have another look at your edits and suggestions and incorporate them soon. Much appreciated!
Hi Kristi: A few small cxx:
In American style, punctuation is put inside quotation marks, not outside (that’s GB style)
I think you mean “self-deprecating.”
I might add to the sentence about never having spoken to Ginny “…never having spoken to her before (our conversations on) the internet” (or something like that, which you do in the next para).
I’d take the comma out after “teacher.” An “and” and no new subject follows, so no comma necessary.
Best, AMANDA
Kristi,
You don’t need a comma after “stranger”, just say “stranger who”.
I agree with others that “before” is not correct since you never did meet her. You can just end the sentence with “spoken to”.
I think we’ve all given up the old rule about not ending a sentence with a preposition!
She sounds like a lovely person and your tribute is touching.
Amicalement,
Diane
“After all, how to explain the relationship that I had with his mother” .. May I humbly suggest eliminating “that” from the above sentence 🙂 Aloha, Bill
“I learned that the “vielle dame” was a teacher” Another “that” …. “I noticed that self-effacing “P.S.” that she usually added” could be “I noticed the self-effacing “P.S.” she usually added. … “and I can still remember the smile that it forged across this rigid-while-working face” … another “that” … and one last “that” … I’m sure that the teacher in you would be encouraging—so here goes:
THAT’S what I’m talkin’ bout 🙂 Humbly, Bill (I may never do this again .. it kills me to critique your wonderful writing, but I believe you will benefit by becoming aware of the uneccesary “that” usage .. I struggle with it all the time. I believe we toss “that” in frequently because it is is a common part of the American English venacular. I have adopted the habit of reading back to myself any sentence where I use the word “that” .. I’m discovering the sentence generally sounds better and flows better without “that”. This critique meekly sent with genuine admiration and humility. Aloha, Bill
Hi dear Kristin,
This is wonderful,warm, and a most touching story.Though we never became personally acquainted with Ginny, your words make us feel as if we were.
Kristin,I dislike alot of corrections because I feel that too much perfection is a minus rather than a plus.
In my opinion this story is perfect as it is.
Love, Natalia XO
Hi, Kristin,
I have read this story before and it is so touching. I think I might make one small edit:
change ‘bit’ to ‘lot’ (since you are comparing about not knowing some superficial things, you did know a lot about her from her wonderful missives, you knew more than just a ‘bit.’ If not ‘lot,’ then maybe some word or phrase that shows how much you really did know her……
…And while I never knew the color of your hair, the tone of your skin, or the twinkle in your eye—you were indeed a mystery to me—I knew a charming precious LOT about “la vieille dame de Californie”.
Now, I must go get a Kleenex and wipe away the tears. Lovely story – we’re all just trying to have someone Know Us, aren’t we!
Do you mean “self-deprecating” instead of “self-depreciating”?
“sandwiched in between” could be changed to “sandwiched between” and ” inside of me” could just as easily be ” inside me.” (I try to avoid using double prepositions unless they enhance the meaning.)
“when lucky … taught French”. The period should be inside the quotation marks.
“californie” should be capitalized.
“votre éloquence életronique” should be “electronique.”
I’ve again gotten to this late so all the corrections I saw have already been noted. I loved this story when you first printed it and enjoyed it just as much this time as it expresses a feeling we all seem to have toward people we never meet in person but get to know through the virtual world.
Lovely story, Kristin! I believe, traditionally, the “P.S.” should follow the sign off, rather than come before it. And “wish my signature line…”, rather than wished.
Bon courage!